Claiming Her_A Romance Collection

by R. R. Banks

  "Is this a water park?" I ask, pointing to an area of the drawing.

  "Yes," he says. "It'll have pools in different depths, sprinkler features, and slides. I want to do a specific section just for really little ones so that they can go down their first water slide and sit in the water, without it being too deep. They'll also be bigger slides in the larger section, and a wave pool."

  "Why would you need a wave pool when Avalon Bay is right there?" Gigi asks.

  "It's safer for children to play in," I explained. "The waves are controlled so parents don't have to worry about the tide or the water conditions."

  "Exactly," Vincent said. "And I've talked to a few of the staff and they're willing to give beginning lessons in the wave pool during the early morning, so people can get more confident if they want to learn to surf."

  "That's amazing," I say. "What else is there? Show me."

  Vincent sits beside me on the couch and wraps an arm around me, pulling me close against him. Using his other hand, he begins pointing out the other features he has planned as part of the expansion of the resort into a family-friendly vacation destination. This is my Christmas surprise, taking the place that is so precious to Vincent and me, and making it fit the life we have now. The life we love. It's the most incredible gesture I could have imagined.

  "When do you think it'll be ready?"

  "I'm already in the process of securing the permits and getting bids from contractors, and other vendors. Once all that is done, we can start construction. I estimate that all of the improvements and renovations will be finished in the next two years."

  "Two years? What else is being changed?”

  Vincent smiles and points out another section of the picture.

  "This is going to be the adults-only area," he says. "I want to make sure guests of all kinds are comfortable visiting, whether they have children or not. When families come, they can stay on this side of the resort and enjoy all the amenities designed for both children and guests of all ages. If a couple, or a solo traveler, or a group of adults comes, and don’t want to be around children, they'll get a room in this other section. Here they'll have amenities designed for adults, including some new shows and late night entertainment. Guests in both areas will still have access to the main building with the restaurant, spa, gift shop, and everything that's there now, but I'm planning on adding some family restrooms and a childcare area, so if parents want some time to themselves, they can have it without worrying. There will also be restaurants and a spa exclusively for guests of the adults-only area."

  "It's going to be wonderful," I say. "I can't wait to see it all finished."

  He kisses me, and we turn to Aaron. Until now, he was happily occupied playing with a pile of crumpled wrapping paper. Now he's staring at the pile of gifts still under the tree. Whether he's after what's actually in the gifts, or more paper to play with, I'm not entirely sure.

  "Let's get this little Christmas elf something else to open, shall we?" Vincent says.

  He settles onto the floor and reaches under the tree for another gift. I watch them for a few moments, then look over at my parents cuddled together on the chair on the other side of the tree. They're wrapped in an Afghan blanket Gigi made when I was a little girl, and that has been beside every Christmas tree since. It's one thing I absolutely have to have in order to celebrate the holidays. It's not Christmas until I've taken that blanket out of storage, read the new note Gigi tucks into the folds at the end of every Christmas season so I can find it the next year, and drape it over a chair in the living room. This has truly been the happiest Christmas of my life.

  Later that night, I lay beside Vincent in our bed, looking up at the ceiling. He closes the book he was reading and puts it on the nightstand before turning to me.

  "Merry Christmas wife," he says.

  "Merry Christmas," I say. I pause for a beat. "Vincent, are you happy?"

  He laughs slightly.

  "Yes, I'm happy. I'm happier than I've ever been in my entire life. Why? Aren't you?"

  I look at him and see the worry in his eyes. I roll onto my side, so I face him.

  "Yes, of course, I'm happy. I'm happier than I ever thought possible."

  "Then why do you seem so upset?" he asks.

  I let out a breath, trying to think of a way to express what I'm thinking.

  "Do you ever think about Charlene?"

  He looks at me strangely.

  "Why would I think about her?" he asked, an uneasy edge to his voice.

  "Not her, exactly, but what she did. Do you ever think about how we are so happy, and she could have taken all this away from us? In fact, she tried to take it all away? Numerous times?"

  "Try not to think about it," he says. "If I do, it just makes me angry all over again."

  "Me, too," I say. "I had a dream the other night. I was reliving that morning at the resort when I found your note and went to the lobby. The second I saw those pictures, my heart shattered. I thought you wrote me that note to lure me there and humiliate me. Earlier in the trip, Charlene had tried to convince all the other girls you were only acting like you were interested in me because of a bet, or a dare. Right then, I believed it. When I had the dream, I felt it all over again. It was horrible. I know you don't understand why I didn't just find you and talk to you about it. I wish I had. But that was the worst moment of my life. I had fallen so deeply in love with you already, and made myself more vulnerable to you than I ever had to anyone else in my life. I had started thinking about trying to get you to come to Virginia with me. The second I saw those pictures, though, I was not only heartbroken, I felt stupid and foolish."

  Vincent shook his head.

  "I wish you didn’t feel that way. Of course, I wish I’d talked to you that morning, so I could tell you I would never do something like that to you. It would have saved us so many days apart. But I understand. I don't blame you. When I went to the bungalow that morning to look for you, Charlene was there. Looking back, she was probably gloating, but I was too worried to notice at the time. I asked where you were, and she said she didn't know. I was convinced she knew you had left, and why, and she just wasn't telling me because she was mad. Laurel told me she saw Charlene in the lobby that morning. I went back and told Charlene I was falling in love with you. I expected her to tell you when she came home. I called you so many times, and you never answered."

  "She never told me any of that," I say.

  He nods.

  "I know that now. But when Charlene and I met again, I asked her about you. I didn't want to. I knew it was stupid. I wanted to convince myself I had put you behind me; that I was capable of moving on. That was a bunch of lies. All I wanted was you. She said you didn't care. She told me you weren't actually interested in me – that I was just your vacation souvenir. That just confirmed it for me. I think that's the only reason I could even bring myself to spend any time with her. She convinced me there was no point in even thinking about you, and I saw so much of myself in her—”

  "But we found our way back to each other," I interject. "No matter how hard she tried, we managed to somehow find our way back."

  "Then she tried again," he says. "She would do anything to try to take our happiness away from us, even to go so far as to actually use it against us." He strokes his thumb across my cheek. "But it didn't work. She failed.”

  "I still can't let go of what she tried to do to us."

  "I know." He leans forward and kisses me. "I love you."

  "I love you too."

  I curl into his arms, happy the conversation is over. I needed to get that out, but I don't want to talk about her anymore. There's a tremendous amount of satisfaction knowing that she's stewing over our marriage, and the fact that her scheme didn't work. I only wish there a way to hold her accountable, and ensure she thought twice before trying to hurt someone like that ever again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Olivia

  I open the door to the balcony and step out into
the sunshine. It's unseasonably warm for late January, and I'm enjoying the mild weather before the bleak gray of late winter sets in. The sheer nightgown and robe I have on are thankfully so light that they add no weight and I lean against the railing to look out over our estate.

  For miles there is nothing around but trees and solitude, making this our perfect cozy hideaway away from the world. I close my eyes and breathe in the honeysuckle-tinted air when I feel a presence behind me. Vincent sidles up behind me and puts one arm around my waist, kissing the side of my neck, and I close my eyes again to focus on the sensation. I can feel his bulge behind me and realize that there is nothing between it and my robe. I open my eyes and look down, noticing that Vincent is naked, his erection pushing up against my bottom. His hand drops from my waist and slips under my nightgown, the fingers gently finding their way to my waiting pussy.

  I reach one hand back and fold it over his cock, massaging it gently. With his free hand, he pulls off my robe, letting it spill onto the floor of the stone balcony, and pull up on my nightgown, unburdening my body from it in a single movement. My breasts tumble out and I feel his hand immediately go to them, caressing them with a quiet hunger.

  I feel him push down on my upper back and I bend over for him, holding the railing and opening myself to him fully. To my surprise he kneels down, moving the hand that was around my waist under me and resuming his slow massage of my clit. His tongue, the master of my pleasure, begins to explore me. I cry out in pleasure, moaning softly at the feeling of his tongue on my most sensitive parts.

  He continued to caress me languidly with his powerful tongue, massaging my clit in a tight circular motion when I began to cry out with a earth-shattering orgasm. Vincent knows what that means, and the hand that was preparing himself for me, moved and I could feel it running up my thigh.

  Vincent

  I want her to come before I am inside of her, and I know exactly how to make it happen. I continue massaging her clit with one hand and with the other I turn myself around so that I am sitting. My tongue never leaves her as it slides up her folds and to her center, while my hand moves to her wet opening. I can tell she is ready for me, and I want to be inside of her, but first, I want to taste her.

  I slide a finger inside of her and continue to massage her clit with my tongue as one of her hands drops down to grab my hair. I begin to enter her with my finger, mimicking what was to come, and I can feel her body rock into me. Her whimpers, so low and desperate, only drives my desire higher, and I increase the speed of both my tongue and hand. My other hand holds her bottom in place, but she pulls it away and shoves a finger into her mouth. I can tell she is almost there as her moaning gets louder and faster. Suddenly she begins to shake, her hand holding my face still as she rides the wave of an intense orgasm to completion. As her tremors begin to slow down I can hear her above me, still shaking and breathing heavily, whispering something to me.

  "Fuck me. Please, Vincent."

  I pull myself up behind her, keeping her in place as I examine her sexy curves. I stand behind her and reach one hand forward, grabbing some of her long hair and pulling her back up a little. My other hand grasps the base of my cock and guides it to her waiting opening. She is more than wet enough for me.

  I can feel the warmth and wetness of her pussy on the head of my cock and it sends a wave of pleasure and adrenaline surging through me. I push slowly into her, making sure that while my speed is slow, that I do not relent until she has taken all of me inside of her. As I plunge into her, I pull her face back and crush my lips against hers, as her moans become trapped inside a kiss. I pull back and then push in again, this time thrusting harder, faster and with more intent. I can see the mixture of pleasure and pain flash across her face, and I kiss her deeper.

  I rock into her now, my pace quickening as I fill her to the brim, and her tight walls surround me. Our bodies move together and apart and for a few moments I feel like I might be about to orgasm myself. Not yet, though. Not quite yet. I pull out and take her hand, leading her into the bedroom and the king-size bed.

  The intensity of my desire for her, my need for her, makes me want to pierce deeply into her soul while I fill her with my seed. We tumble onto the bed and she climbs on top of me, guiding me inside of her, sliding down until I fill her completely.

  She rocks forward on me, riding me as best she can. I help her by grabbing onto her round bottom and pulling her into the rocking motion. Her breasts are bouncing in front of me and I can't help but draw one into my mouth. As I relentlessly thrust inside of her and lick her nipple, I can feel her beginning to build again. This time, I’ll be right there with her. Her rocking becomes faster and more desperate than before, and I clamp my mouth over her breast, sucking her deep into my mouth, while my hand dips between her bottom cheeks to guide her further into me. She begins to cry out and the sound drives me over the edge as I feel myself explode into her. I hold her in place as my cock reaches the end of its spasms, and I stare deeply into Olivia's eyes. She smiles at me and I feel my heart soar.

  "I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  We walk through the bedroom and into the master bathroom where I turn on the garden tub. Sinking down into the warm water, we relax back against the jets, luxuriating in our invigorating start of the day. Aaron will be awake soon, but this time is just for us. A few blissful moments later, I look at Olivia.

  "I wanted to talk to you about something," I say.

  She murmurs an acknowledgment, her head still resting back against the side of the tub.

  "I was thinking about the conversation we had on Christmas," I say.

  "What about it?" she asks.

  "I think we've done a fantastic job showing the world that we don't care what they think about us, but I found out some, let's say, interesting things about Randall Devereaux's business and some maneuvers he made right around the time your father's business started having trouble."

  "What kinds of interesting things?"

  "Large sums of money spent, then recovered, then spent again, all under suspiciously vague transaction names. Phantom projects that were supposed to utilize some of your father's industries, but never came to fruition. Strange acquisitions. It also happens that right at the time when the thefts were happening, and the bad investments started showing up, he added an accountant to his payroll. An accountant who never worked in the offices and who drew checks for apparently nothing."

  "Are you saying her father had something to do with Daddy's business failing?"

  "That's what it looks like. He also bought up a lot of the properties and belongings your father sold. I can't prove some of it, obviously, but I'm sure the information I've handed over to some law enforcement friends of mine will be enough to at least get them looking into the possibilities."

  "What does this have to do with our conversation about what Charlene did to us, though?"

  "It's all related," I say. "She's just a product of her father. I've decided I'm tired of taking the high road."

  She turns her head to look at me.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I think I'm ready for some revenge."

  "What did you have in mind?"

  "What do you say we get divorced?"

  Her head snaps up, her eyes wide.

  "What the fucking fig are you talking about? Are you trying to get revenge on her or me?"

  Her profanity has taken on its own personality now. I love it.

  "Not a real divorce," I say, laughing. "I don't mean we'll actually do it. I mean, let's use some of her own techniques, and see what we can lure out of the woodwork.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Charlene

  I smile as I walk into the lobby of the Catalina Island Resort and look around. It’s exactly the same as I remember from the last time I saw it, except for the groups of resort guests laughing at Olivia's bare ass plastered all over. That really was such a charming touch. The thought of her makes me grin, and I'm excited about the
week ahead of me. Just a month ago, the news of the very timely demise of her marriage to Vincent hit every tabloid and news outlet. It was incredible. I couldn't have orchestrated it better myself, which of course, says a lot.

  Seeing them together after I leaked the news of their spontaneous drunken marriage and Olivia's secret baby was infuriating. I was positive the strain of that would make their relationship fail. Being exposed that way should have been so beyond humiliating for Olivia, and such an invasion of Vincent’s privacy and treasured anonymity, that it should have been impossible for them to stay together. Yet not even a week later they were bouncing around the city together with their little boy, smiling like the perfect happy family. You would have thought they'd been married for years, and her pregnancy was meticulously planned out.

  Of course, I couldn't say anything to them. I couldn't let them know I was the one who found out about their wedding, then snatched the picture of their son so I could humiliate them on an even bigger scale, and push them to the breaking point. It had been sickening to watch Olivia seamlessly slip back into society without a hitch. I was beyond furious. I know, now, it was all worth it. Seeing it unfold this way makes it so much sweeter.

  The tabloid layout describing the misery of their relationship, and the breakdown of the happy facade they had put forward for everyone was such delightful reading material, I kept a print copy of the magazine on my nightstand. I was tempted to blow it up and turn it into a poster I could mount on my wall. When I mentioned that to my mother, she suggested I wait and have it as the centerpiece at my bachelorette party.

  My mother and father are just as happy as I am. They suffered right along with me when I came home from the resort and pined for Vincent. As their only little girl, they hated to see how upset I was, and vowed to do anything they could to help me. Beau Alcott's business was already starting to show signs of cracking. A few minor instances of 'creative reassignment of assets,' as my father so elegantly put it, was enough to finally put it under. Watching their business, and their lifestyle, crash and burn had been satisfying, particularly when I finally started dating Vincent. When Olivia came back, and they got married, Daddy was understandably devastated for me. They say it nearly killed him to see how hurt and dejected I was.