Chapter 25

As Vince opens the front door to me, Gracie dances on her hind legs behind him. He nudges her away then looks at me. And I fall into him. I don’t even wait for him to bring his arms up. Pressing my cheek against his shoulder, I snake my arms around his torso, basking in his warmth and clean pine scent.

It takes a few seconds, but then his arms are around me, one hand at the back of my head, the other rubbing up and down my back. “You’re okay.”

And for this moment, I am okay.

I try on the truth. “I missed you.”

He doesn’t say it back, only hugs me a little tighter, kisses my temple. “What happened with your job?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He slowly pulls away, nudging my chin up to meet his gaze. “What do you want to talk about?”

That’s the thing; I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think or be responsible. I want to be reckless, throw myself into things I know I shouldn’t. I want to kiss him.

So, I do.

When I pull him down to me, he’s taken by surprise, his gold-green eyes wide and confused, but when I press my lips against his, he closes his eyes and I close mine. His hands find the dip at my waist, mine wind in his hair. His lips are familiar in a way they shouldn’t be, his soft grunts my favorite sounds. If I never heard or felt or tasted anyone else for the rest of my life, I would be satisfied.

Together, we take blind steps until we stumble against the staircase, which forces us to break apart, and I grasp his hand, leading him upstairs to his bedroom. He sits on the bed, slow to catch on as I toss my clothes aside until I’m in front of him in only my bra and underwear.

He blinks.

Blinks again.

Then he’s up, clumsily stripping off his shirt and pants. His throat bobs on a swallow, his eyes drinking me in, and I become the most confident version of myself under his rapt attention.

He seems a little nervous, but his earnestness only proves how special he is, and how special he thinks I am that he continually chooses me.

I truly don’t deserve him.

I take him in, from his bare toes to the top of his hair in need of a trim. His legs are covered in dark brown hair, his thighs like tree trunks, and I place my hands on them as I sink to my knees. He meets my gaze over the plane of his long torso, slightly muscled and fuzzed with hair that narrows down toward his belly button and his thick cock that hardens with every second we stare at each other.

I curl my fingers around the elastic of his light-blue boxer briefs, peeling them down his legs so he can step out of them as his erection extends out toward me. Before I can lean in to kiss it, he stops me with his fingers in my hair.

“Are you sure?” he asks even as his hips move forward, tapping the wide head on my lower lip. But with how his mouth opens on a sharp breath, I don’t think he meant to.

I wrap one hand around the base and curve my other around his hip, and even though I know it won’t fit, I pretend my stomach isn’t flip-flopping at the thought and answer, “I’m sure.”

He doesn’t remove his fingers from my hair, but he does curl them tighter as he guides my head toward him, groaning quietly when I open my mouth to him. I suck the salty flavor off him, lick his velvety length, all the while, we never break eye contact.

He doesn’t force me any further than I want to go, merely cups the back of my head, tells me that he’s fantasized about this often. About having my sweet mouth on him.

I can’t believe it. That this is happening, and that he’s the one who’s confessing how long he’s dreamed of me.

“That first year you were in college, when you came home for winter break, you came to a party with RJ and me,” he says, dragging his thumb around the corner of my mouth as I lave him with my tongue. “I hadn’t seen you for a long time, and even though I always thought you were cute, I saw you that night, and…” He blows out a breath, his abs clenching, his fingers tightening in my hair when I lick the bead of his desire. “Shit, Cass, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I wanted to talk to you…” He grunts when I work my fist over him, sucking at the tip. “I wanted to take you to a quiet corner, tell you how I’d always had a thing for you, always thought you were stronger and smarter and more beautiful than you ever believed you were. But when we got there, some douchebag got your attention first.”

My eyes tear at his confession, and I want to please him, give him something in return, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he bends and pulls me up off the floor, kissing my already-swollen lips until I’m out of breath.

He palms my backside, squeezing hard enough to earn a gasp, and tows me right up against him, all my soft along all his hard.

“I remember that night,” I admit, thinking of the party in the basement of Joe Kieffer’s house, a guy Vince and RJ graduated high school with. “That guy was Patch. We ended up making out.”

“Patch?”

“I’m not sure where the nickname came from, but he was Keiffer’s younger brother.”

“Stupid name,” Vince grumbles.

“You jealous?” The idea makes me giddy, and I trace the line of his shoulder, giggling. I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a good long time.

“Back then, yes.” He slips his arm around my waist and hoists me up to toss me onto the bed. “But you’re with me now.”

I ignore how those words wrap around my clay heart, shaping it into something a little more usable. Something a little more valuable.

“I only did it because I didn’t want to see girls hanging all over you,” I explain, and he crawls over me with a playful grin then nips at my ear and shoulder like it’s payback.

“You were the only one I wanted. And you broke my heart with Patch.”

I laugh, toying with the small pendant on his gold necklace hanging between us. “I didn’t break your heart.”

“No,” he agrees, “but you can.”

It takes my breath away, this simple revelation.

I could break his heart.

“Now,” he starts, skating his hand down my side, “you can make up for that night and all the others you owe me.”

“Yeah?” I help him remove my bra and lift my hips when he tugs my underwear down and off. “There are a lot of nights?”

He nods and presses a kiss between my breasts. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”

I guess I don’t. Because the heat of his gaze on my bare skin is more than I expect. Like he’s been waiting not only nights, but years. Those hazel eyes of his flutter like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, even though I’ve never felt all that special. Slim with big hips, long legs with dimpled thighs, and a bust size that’s nothing to write home about.

Yet he stares at me as if I’m flawless.

He tows me to the edge of the mattress, places my legs over his shoulders, and then with only a tiny smile my way as a forewarning, his mouth is on me. His licks are perfect, languorous like I’m a dessert he wants to savor, and maybe I am, if his satisfied moans are any indication. When I sink my fingers into his hair, he mumbles a quiet, “That’s it,” then loops one arm around my hip to press his palm above my pubic bone at the same time he slides two fingers inside me, pushing me closer and closer to climax.

“Never in my wildest dreams as a fourteen-year-old did I think I’d be here with you while you do this,” I pant, and he tips his head up to laugh, his mouth shiny with the evidence of just how well he knows my body.

“Never?” he teases as he lazily plays with my clit.

I shake my head, tugging his head back between my legs.

“So demanding.”

“Please, Vince,” I whine, and he holds my gaze as he licks up the length of me.

“Whatever you want. I’ll give you anything.” He kisses both of my thighs. “Everything.”

Then he returns to my pleasure as if he didn’t just split me in half with his promise.

Like he means it.

Like I’m worth it.

Like he hasn’t merely kick-started my heart into working order but sent it careening off a cliff.

With a cry that’s half agony, half bliss, I orgasm, and he praises me with quiet words as he levers himself over me, his erection hard against my stomach, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him close while I recover.

“Since neither one of us really planned this, I assume you didn’t bring condoms, and I don’t have any either,” he tells me, taking time to suck on each of my nipples so what he says doesn’t quite register at first. “But it’s been a while since I had sex, and I was tested after I broke up with Sandi.”

Thatregisters, and I roll my eyes.

He smirks against the underside of my breast. “You jealous?”

I’m unrepentant. “Yes.”

His eyes flare a possession that makes my skin erupt with goose bumps, and he settles his hands on either side of my head. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Taking his cock in hand, I rub the head over my wet entrance. “Tell you that I’m on birth control, but it’s been a really long time for me. Like, so long, I’m a little worried it’ll hurt.”

Vince’s brows furrow. “I’d rather cut off my own dick than hurt you.” He ducks his head, leaving an openmouthed kiss on the slope of my shoulder then another under my ear. “Guide me in. We’ll go slow, and you’ll tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”

He kisses me, plying me to relax, before winding his arm under my leg, positioning me when I notch him inside. With a crooked and reassuring smile, he gently pushes in farther then retreats, waiting after each stroke for me to adjust.

He fills me so deliciously full that I can hardly breathe, and he must know because he presses his forehead to mine. “Breathe, sweetheart.” And I do, allowing him to completely seat himself in me. “How’s it feel?”

I fist the comforter below, starting to swivel my hips. “Good,” I tell him. “So good.”

He rests on his forearms, bringing us chest to chest, belly to belly, using shallow thrusts as he still holds my leg up. To help, I fit my hand between us, stroking my swollen clit, feel how slippery we are together, how desperate I am for him.

He practically growls, proud of me. “Attagirl.”

Then he really takes off, hitting me exactly right, his muscles tensing with effort, his skin sweating from work. It’s so fucking sexy, the way he’s breathing and arching his back. He’s doing this for me. Making it good for me. Taking care of me.

“Oh god,” I whimper. “Never. It’s never been like this.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Feels like…” I lick my lips, not quite able to put it into words. “I’m dying.”

He agrees with a ragged hum, occasionally licking and sucking at my throat and the tops of my breasts. “You were worth the wait,” he murmurs into my shoulder, almost like he didn’t mean to say that out loud. But then he traces the shell of my ear with the tip of his tongue. “When you come, I want you to open your eyes and look at me. You understand?”

I do, and I nod.

“I want to see everything inside you. I want all of you.”

I don’t know how he does it. Makes me feel like I’m enough, and I blink my eyes to him, so that he can see me.

I want him to see me. All the good and bad, even the macerated thing currently working hard to survive inside my chest.

Vince reminds me of what I’ve been missing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man, and I need not only this release, but I need him.

It’s with that thought that I fall off the edge, making sure to keep my eyes open, letting him in.

“That’s it,” he rasps, “give it all to me. Give everything to me, and I’ll take care of you.”

With one last thrust, he stills and lowers his weight on top of me, before rolling us so I’m on top of him. I don’t hesitate to bury my head in his throat, and he tightens his hold on me, pecking kisses over my hair, ear, and shoulder.

After a minute, we disentangle from each other, and I help myself to his bathroom, cleaning up. By the time I return, he’s back in his boxer briefs, and drinks and snacks are on the bed: two bottles of water along with a banana and a protein bar.

“Gotta replenish our energy,” he says, and I can’t quite swallow my laugh. “Come on.” He tips his head to his bed, but before I hop on the mattress, I open one of his drawers. “What are you looking for?”

“T-shirt.”

“Second drawer.”

I find one and slip it over my head. It barely covers my bits, though Vince’s grin is downright lascivious.

After we split the banana and protein bar, he tucks me into his side, and I drape my arm around his waist, laying my head on his chest. His heartbeat is strong under my ear.

I briefly wonder how I could get it on audio, make it my ringtone, maybe download it to my Spotify. I think I need proof of life now.

“I, uh…didn’t expect that,” he says after a while, and I huff out a laugh. He kisses the top of my head. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Talk about what? Me getting fired?”

“Yeah.”

I sigh and toy with the gold pendant, bringing it closer to me so I spot the outline of a person on it. “Who’s this?”

“Saint Vincent. My grandfather gave it to me for my eighth-grade confirmation.”

“Saint Vincent,” I repeat. “Patron saint of…?”

“Charities.”

“Charities,” I deadpan with an arched brow, the irony not escaping me. The half-naked saint Vincent currently keeping me warm has basically been running a charity with me being the only recipient since February 14th.

He shakes his head in amusement as if he can read my mind. “Never mind that. Tell me what happened.”

There’s nothing else to lose, so I give in. But I trail my hand over his chest as I do it.

“Gary basically said I didn’t care enough about the job, which isn’t entirely untrue.”

“What’re you going to do now?”

I purse my lips. “Get another job, I guess.”

“Better learn to send a fax,” he jokes, and I pinch him before shifting away. He rolls to his side, propping his head in his hand. “Do you want me to say some clichéd thing about how this is a door closing but a window will open?”

I snort then pull the covers up to my shoulders. “No. Sassie’s sucked, but it paid better than some random entry-level job. This isn’t a window opening. It’s a wrong turn through this horrible maze.” I raise one eyebrow at him. “Maybe I’ll become a funeral director.”

“Queen of the Underworld.”

I fake a shiver. I may be in dire straits, but there’s no way I’d ever want to do that.

“We haven’t talked in a while,” he says, the insinuation of my let’s be friends talk hanging between us after what we just did. I see a yearning in his eyes to understand what’s going on, although I can’t tell him because I don’t fully understand it either. All I know is that I need him. I don’t want to need him, but I do. And I’m not sure how to feel about that.

“What’s up?” he asks like he’s not constantly picking me up off the floor from an emotional breakdown.

“I think my dad’s having an affair.”

He sits straight up, mouth open. “Your dad what?”

“I was doing laundry a while ago, and one of his shirts had lipstick on it. Like a scene from a soap opera.”

“What’d you do?” His gaze is filled with pity, and even though I have nothing to be ashamed of, I’m humiliated. My life’s become one big melodrama.

“When I confronted him, he didn’t deny it.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, curving his hand around my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“We started yelling at each other, and then he completely broke down,” I continue. “It was like… You never expect to see your parents like that, especially him, you know? He’s curt and gruff, and he’s…not the best dad, but he’s the only one I have. And this morning, the way his whole body crumpled to the floor. I actually felt bad for him. I could see the physical pain he had, in his face, his hands.”

My eyes water, threatening to spill over, and I bat at the traitorous tears. I don’t want to sympathize with my father, not after what he’s done. “It’s not fair,” I say, dropping my chin toward my chest. Even though Vince is the one person I can talk to about all this, it scares me to say some of these words out loud. “I’m totally unequipped to handle this. It’s not fair my brother died, and now…” I sniffle. “Now, I have to deal with my parents. My father’s a drunk, doing god-knows-what every day, while my mother’s wasting away. It’s too much.”

Vince tugs me to him with an arm around my shoulders, my back to his chest, and he leans his head against mine. “You’re doing the best you can. That’s enough.”

“You keep saying that to me, but it’s not true.” I yank myself away from him. “Nothing I do is helping. I don’t even know why I try.”

“You’re trying because even though everything’s a wreck, you still love your parents. They’re still your family. And you’re still you.” He slants closer to me and lowers his voice. “Your parents might be lost, and you might be too. It’s normal to try to find a way back. Give yourself credit for trying, for wanting to. I’ve seen some people never recover after something like what you guys are going through.”

I snort. “Might as well put us in that category.”

He tucks a hank of my hair behind my ear. “You’re okay, Cass.”

Those words and his kind yet mischievous smile do me in. I follow when he pulls me to him, and he kisses me like he can’t get enough. He moves his fingers over my body like he already knows it.

And I like it, him knowing me. Me knowing him.

I really like it.

Might even love it.