Claiming Her_A Romance Collection

by R. R. Banks

  My lips curve up as I turn to the bathroom door. When I open it, the bedroom stretches in front of me. I cross through it and into the living room where Vincent waits. I had asked him to stay there, told him I would be back soon. He doesn't know what I am planning. He thinks I am only here to have dinner. I want this to be a surprise.

  He looks shocked as he climbs to his feet and crosses the room toward me. I meet him in the middle as his hands come to grip my waist.

  Vincent

  Moments ago I was sitting on the couch, staring at the blank television in front of me and wondering what was going on with Olivia. She has seemed nervous since first arrived at my bungalow for dinner. She was so distracted as we ate that she was barely able to follow the conversation. When I asked if anything was wrong, her cheeks flushed, and she shook her head, smiling but not saying anything. I wondered if she might be thinking about how soon she was leaving the resort, so I tried to calm her by suggesting we should watch a movie. Grabbing the mysterious black bag, she had brought with her, Olivia shook her head again and disappeared through the bedroom into the bathroom, leaving me alone and confused.

  The instant she stepped out of the bedroom, my mind went completely blank.

  Her beautiful dark tresses tumble down around her face and shoulders, both covering and highlighting her exposed skin. Shimmering fabric pours fluidly down the lush curves of her body, revealing taut nipples that strain against it.

  She is breathtaking.

  What she told me the first night she came to my bungalow has been on my mind ever since. Every time I look at her, I can't stop thinking that no other man has ever touched her or indulged in her sensuous body. I want to explore her and be the first to discover the wonders she's been keeping to herself.

  Now as she stands in front of me, she doesn't have to tell me what she's thinking. Her smile is both nervous and filled with anticipation, and her body trembles slightly beneath my touch. The time we spent together reached beyond her uncertainty to a point where she felt like she could give herself to me. The preciousness of what she’s offering isn't lost on me and I feel the primal urge to protect her grow even stronger.

  Olivia

  "Hello," he murmurs.

  I laugh softly, blinking away the tears forming in my eyes.

  "Hi yourself.”

  "Olivia… you look incredible."

  He tightens his hold on my waist and draws me closer. Our breath mingles between us, and for a moment we are silent. Neither one of us moves an inch until Vincent leans down and touches his lips to mine. His mouth lingers there, pressing gently against mine before lifting away. It isn't enough. I nudge his nose with mine and he understands the invitation, capturing my mouth with his again. His lips press more deeply this time, the tip of his tongue gently coaxing mine apart.

  I comply with the insistence of his kiss. My lips part and I welcome his tongue against mine as they tangle together. I am so lost in the feeling and the taste of him I barely notice when his hands go to my hips, lifting to cradle me against his body. There is nothing hurried about our kiss. He seems to have no urgency, no sense of pressure. Instead, he explores my mouth as though he relishes every second he can taste me. As I slide down his body, his hands run over the curve of my hips and along my thighs and then on to my lower back. I stroke my hands down his neck and over his shoulders across his back. I feel the tension of his muscles beneath his shirt and remember how he looked when we swam, and he wore only his swimsuit.

  After a few moments, he pulls his mouth away from mine and looks down into my face.

  "Are you sure?" he asks.

  "Yes," I say softly. He kisses me again and I meet his eyes. "Are you?"

  Vincent nods and our mouths crash together. His tongue plunges into my mouth, and I reciprocate hungrily, a light moan slipping from me as his hands move further down my body. He begins to gather my skirt, gliding it up my thighs. Instinct drives me to rock my hips against him as Vincent's hand dips into my panties. The pad of his thumb strokes through my sensitive folds and I am nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations rolling through me. I cling to him, not letting my nervousness take over. Powerful pressure builds throughout my body and within minutes I can feel myself rushing towards a dizzying orgasm.

  Before I can come, Vincent gently removes his fingers and scoops me into his arms before carrying me across the living room. When we reach the bedroom, he walks toward the bed and sets me carefully on my feet. He slides the dainty straps off my shoulders, causing the lingerie to glide down my body and pool on the floor at my feet. I wear only the matching champagne-colored panties beneath and Vincent steps back to look at me. I have never been looked at this way but I'm not embarrassed. Not at all. I love how his gaze makes me feel beautiful and desirable.

  Finally, Vincent lowers to his knees in front of me. Resting his hands on my hips again, he dips his head forward and brushes his face against my stomach. His breath trails down my belly and I feel the tremble settle between my thighs once again. His mouth touches the front of my panties, his fingers dipping into the waistband, so he can ease them down my hips and guide them off my legs. I gasp as his tongue mimics the skilled movements of his fingers only moments before. The tip focuses intensely on my sensitive swollen clit, and I toss my head back to let out a cry of pleasure. He climbs back to his feet and undresses, his eyes locking on mine as he tosses first his shirt, and then his pants aside. I drink in the power and chiseled beauty of his naked body. My eyes travel on the muscles of his chest and down his belly to his thick erection. My fingertips tingle with the desire to touch him.

  As if he can sense my need and the uncertainty that tempers it, Vincent reaches forward and takes my hand. Stepping closer to me, he brings my hand forward and wraps it around his shaft. He draws in a breath and I feel encouraged by the sound. I allow him to move my hand, showing me how to stroke him. As my hand glides along his length, Vincent removes his to brush his fingertips across one of my breasts. Every feeling is new and enthralling. My body hums with pleasure but aches for more. Soon he guides me back to rest my head on the pillows. Vincent crawls up toward me, his presence surrounding me. His mouth touches mine, and he stretches his body over me. I offer myself fully into his kiss, allowing the blissful sensations to heighten the desire I feel for him.

  I draw my thighs apart beneath his and Vincent settles between them. His erection glides down my belly and the tip touches my opening. Gasping at the sensation, I look into his eyes. Vincent pauses and pulls back. Worry flickers through me.

  "What's wrong?" I ask.

  Vincent gets off the bed and I watch as he walks across the room to the dresser. He opens the top drawer and pulls something out. When he comes back to the bed, I see he's holding a foil packet.

  "I hope you don't take this wrong, but I've been hoping this would happen."

  "I don't," I whisper.

  Vincent opens the packet and pulls out the condom. I watch him position it on the engorged head of his erection and roll it down to the base. Once it is in place, he resumes his position hovering over me. He dips his head to kiss me again, letting our lips play across each other to rebuild the heat that was lost when he got out of bed. He adjusts his position so that the tip of his cock settles against my core again and I meet his eyes. Our gaze holds as he pushes slowly forward. He pauses, giving my body the chance to get accustomed to him. There is a slight aching pain, but it promises the potential for something delicious, so I press into it.

  He tightens his hips again, gradually sinking deeper into me until his hip bones are resting against me. My body feels almost impossibly full and I experience a sense of fulfillment like never before. I reach up and bury my fingers in the dark, silken strands of his hair. I use this grip to ease his mouth down toward me, but not all the way. I stop him a few inches from my face and flick the tip of my tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. I want that gesture to express what I can't, to tell him what I am thinking and feel
ing. Vincent knows. He understands my body as if I am speaking to him. His hips roll against me, sliding slightly deeper with each rock. I whimper as I will myself to relax and open myself to him.

  Soon my tight walls soften enough to allow Vincent to move more smoothly, his long, deep strokes filling me completely. I press my hands to his lower back to encourage him to go faster. As he thrusts into me, growls of pleasure rumble in his throat and the sound makes me shake. His thrusts become slightly harder, more desperate, and each elicit their own cry of pleasure. I can feel myself spiraling out of control, and just as my body crashes around him, Vincent gives a final, deep thrust and lets out a primal groan.

  I can feel his thick shaft pulse within me as my body draws him deeper, milking every last drop. I kiss his shoulder and cheek, wrapping my arms around him as he tucks his head into the curve of my neck. Nothing else matters. Nothing exists but the beating of his heart against mine and the sense that I have discovered something precious, something I have been looking for my entire life.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlene

  "Do you have it?" I ask.

  "Yes," the nervous-looking young man in front of me says. "You're sure that Mr. Preston didn't put you up to this? This isn't some kind of sting operation?"

  I roll my eyes.

  "Do I look like I need money? Really?"

  "I don't know," he stammers. "He could have made sure you had the right clothes and the jewelry and everything to look like one of the guests staying here. If he was going to do something like that, he would want to make sure the woman he hired actually looks convincing, wouldn't he?"

  "What's your name again?" I ask.

  He looks at me with terror in his eyes, and I wonder how he even brought himself to do this in the first place. He seemed so much more confident when I first approached him.

  "Frank," he says.

  "Well, Frank, I think you've been watching too much bad TV. This is not a sting. This is not a conspiracy. Frankly, no pun intended, you probably don't even register as a blip on Mr. Preston's radar. Why would he go to the effort of hiring someone to go through with an elaborate charade just to find out if you're willing to break company rules? Don't you think he could come up with a simpler and more effective method?”

  "I didn't think about it that way."

  "Clearly. When do I get the video?"

  "I've already sent it to your phone. You should have it."

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and glance at the screen. I forgot to turn the notifications back on and had missed the sound that would have alerted me to his message. If I hadn't, I could have avoided so much of this inane conversation. I open the message and press the video to start it. Immediately I see what I hoped he would be able to capture. A grin curves my lips and bitter laughter bubbles in my chest. I close the video and put my phone away.

  "Thank you," I say. "It looks perfect."

  I reach into the tote hanging over my shoulder and pull out an envelope, thick with the cash I've stuffed inside.

  "Thanks," Frank says.

  "Don't mention it," I say. "Seriously, don't mention it. To anyone. Ever."

  I cringe at the cliché, but I mean every word of it. Somewhat hapless and seemingly enchanted with me from the first time he saw me, Frank was easy to pick out from the staff to complete this project for me. It didn't take much effort to convince him to use the access pass from his position on the cleaning staff to access the bungalow I had seen Vincent and Olivia walk into together a few nights before. I saw the way they look at each other. There's a sense of desire and curiosity reflected in Olivia’s eyes that I've never seen before. Vincent has gotten to her. I start to walk away from Frank, but hear him call out.

  "You said this wasn't a sting operation or a conspiracy," he says. "So, what is it?"

  "Just a memory,” I say. "Something for them to never forget."

  It didn't have to be this way. I shouldn't have been left at that bar two nights ago, embarrassed for the second time. I shouldn't have had to watch Vincent walk away after turning down my advances yet again, knowing he was either on his way to see Olivia or heading off to make plans for the next day for the two of them. The first time he didn't accept my offer was forgivable. He was just embarrassed in front of everyone at the bar, and had already made arrangements to eat dinner alone in his bungalow. I could understand him wanting to just call it a night, maybe even in an effort to be discreet.

  This was different. I blatantly offered myself to him and he instantly turned me down, pulling my hand away from his shoulder and pointedly telling me that I should try to be a better friend to Olivia. He said it smoothly and quietly enough that only the bartender standing closest to us would have been able to hear. Somehow that made it worse. The withering tone of his voice crushed me. I almost wished that he had shouted at me or said something vulgar. At least then we would be on level ground. He spoke to me like he was better than me. He scolded me. I can’t stand for that. I had already been dumped by my fiancé. I had already faced the humiliation of everyone finding out that the pampered, romantic relationship I told them about wasn't true. I'll be damned if I'm going to let a fucking resort employee reject me and then talk down to me.

  Olivia

  When I open my eyes, Vincent isn’t beside me. I reach over to the side of the bed and feel only the empty expanse of sheets. They're cold, telling me he got up a while ago, but I can still smell coffee in the air. I sit up and look around the room, giving my brain a chance to settle into the morning. There's a smile on my lips and my body feels warm and satisfied. I climb out of bed and walk toward the bathroom, not bothering to put any clothes on. I feel like I've just met my body for the first time and yet I feel more at peace with myself than ever before. It seems ridiculous that I feel so different. I'm blissful about my decision to have Vincent be my first.

  As long as I have been waiting and as much as I had built up ‘the big night’ in my mind, I wasn't prepared for how much having Vincent inside me would affect me. Before I came to his house last night, I told myself this was my way of saying goodbye to Vincent. But now I know I can't just go back home to Virginia and pretend he's not here. I can't go back to my life there and never see him again. I need to talk to him. We only have two days left, and we need to decide what comes next.

  I drop one of Vincent's shirts on over my head before walking out into the rest of the bungalow. A note is sitting on the counter next to a cup of coffee. The mug is cool to the touch. I must have slept in and he had to leave for work. It was sweet of him not to wake me. I start the coffee maker to make a fresh cup before picking up the note.

  "Good morning, beautiful. I need to talk to you. Meet me in the lobby later. If you don't see me, ask Laurel. She'll know where to find me. Love, Vincent."

  The smile stays on my lips as I take a long, luxurious shower and dress in the clothes I brought with me the night before. I don't want to go back to the bungalow where my friends are staying before going to the lobby. I had wanted to wake up beside Vincent and kiss him first thing in the morning, and I don't want to have to wait any longer. I look around as I approach the main building, hoping to catch sight of him. There's so much I need to say to him. I don't know how I'm going to say it, but I want to ask him what he sees in our future. I want to tell him that I don't want our relationship to end when I leave Catalina Island.

  I wish I knew more about him. Even though I had tried so carefully not to pry into his background or force him to tell me anything about himself, I wish now I had. I wish I knew where he came from and if he had any family around Catalina. If his ties aren’t too strong, or he's willing to take the leap, maybe I can convince him to relocate to Virginia. I know I'm rushing. I'm caught up in the whirlwind of the last two weeks and probably not thinking very clearly. But I don't care. I'll ride this incredible starry-eyed feeling for as long as possible. This is love like I've never felt and I'm not willing to sacrifice even a second if I don't have to
.

  I walk into the lobby and glance around, scanning the faces of the people milling around for Vincent. When I don't see him, I look for Laurel. I don't notice her, either, but I soon realize there are several groups of people clustered in various places around the lobby. They are staring at something on the walls in front of them and their whispers and laughter cuts through the rest of the sound in the lobby. A young man looks over his shoulder and stares directly at me, then grabs the woman beside him by the arm. She looks at him and he nods toward me. Her eyes widen when she looks my way and they both turn sharply, snickering loudly.

  Rushing across the lobby, I push through the group until I am close enough to the wall to see what they are looking at. I can’t believe what I’m looking at. Ringing sounds form in my ears and get louder until I can hear nothing else. The idea that there had been any semblance of love shatters around me. I want to pull my eyes away, but I force myself to look at the picture in front of me.

  My mind is spinning. Everything seems to blur in front of me, but when I squeeze my eyes closed and open them again, the image in front of me is in clear focus.

  When did he take that picture? How did he take it?

  My cheeks burn at the sight of my body on display in front of anyone who walks past. Another picture is beside it. And another. And another. Each is more explicit than the last and my hands tremble as I tear them from the wall. Above the pictures a large piece of paper offers an open letter to whoever wants to read it, detailing the most intimate moments of my life. I feel sick. The night I spent with Vincent was supposed to be private, a sacred experience just for the two of us. Now the most intimate moments are posted throughout the most public space of the resort and accompanied by what seems like a graphic description of everything that happened from the moment he carried me into the bedroom.

  I claw at the paper. When it's in my hand, I crush it against the pictures and turn to leave. The sound of laughter echoes throughout the lobby and my stomach sinks. A group of young men stand at one of the columns in the lobby and I know there must be more pictures. I can't tear them all down. I can't stay in the lobby long enough. Burning tears sear my cheeks as I leave of the building and I swipe at them furiously to keep my vision clear, so I can get down the walkway as fast as possible.