by S. J. Tilly
“Okay.” I hear shuffling, followed by the click of her lamp turning off. “I’m in bed now.”
“Covers up to your chin?” I ask, knowing her penchant for burying herself in blankets.
“Yep.”
“Captain already fast asleep, or is he still eating your crackers?”
I smile at the movement I hear. She’s checking.
“He’s asleep.”
“Alright, sweetheart. Leave the phone on. I’ll hang up when I know you’re sleeping.”
“Okay. Goodnight, Vincent. I…”
My eyes fly open. My heart starts beating faster than it did a second ago. “You what, Sasha?”
“I… I hope you sleep well.”
That’s not what she was going to say.
“You, too.” I murmur. “Now close your eyes.”
I’m not sure how long I lay here, listening to the sound of her breathing. Her. My Sasha. My girlfriend. The woman who almost said I love you. She stopped herself. She caught it before it was out. But that’s what she was going to say. I fucking know it.
I wasn’t expecting it. I also wasn’t expecting the feeling I’m experiencing now. I feel a sense of yearning. I want her to say it. I want to hear her say those words to me.
With my eyes still closed, I ponder how that’s possible. Do I love her back?
And, with thoughts of love, I slide into sleep. But instead of bringing me answers, my sleep only brings memories.
I fall out of the car, landing at my dad’s feet.
“Dad!” My ears are still ringing but I can hear my voice enough to know that I’m sobbing. “Dad!”
I crawl up towards his head, chunks of glass cutting into my palms.
There’s a second spot of blood on his shirt. This one lower, in his stomach. The blood isn’t spreading, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
Dad’s hand reaches out for me. I grip his fingers as tight as I can. As I look up at his face. He’s pale. Too pale.
“Dad. What do I do? I don’t know what to do?”
His fingers grip mine back. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
I beg for help, as I watch the life leave his eyes.
With a jerk, I wake.
“Fuck.” I mutter into the darkness willing my heart to slow.
Rolling onto my side I see the call with Sasha is still open. Her soft breaths sounding through the phone. Instead of hanging up, I pull the phone closer. My dad’s final words whisper through my mind as I close my eyes again.
It’s okay. I’m okay.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
SASHA
“E
ric, come on. For real?”
He blinks at me in that infuriating way he always does. “Yes, for real. Now let’s go.”
I drop my arms to my side as I tilt my office chair dangerously far back. “Can’t we take one day off?” I whine. “I’m finally not feeling hungover anymore, but if you make me practice those flipping around moves again, I’ll probably puke.”
The blank look on Eric’s face indicates that he’s not moved by my statement.
Seriously, I’m going to kill Jessica for peer pressuring me into that last round of margaritas last night. I think I said something to Vincent about her being my best friend, but I need to detox before I start feeling any love towards her again.
Love. I inwardly groan at the reminder. I might’ve been drunk, but at least I was conscious enough to catch myself before drunkenly telling Vincent I love him. I fell asleep mortified and can only hope my transition on the phone was believable and that Vincent will never bring it up. Ever.
Eric opens my office door. “The sooner we get to the gym, the sooner we’ll be done and the sooner you can go home.”
I make sure to give Eric my best glare as I grab the small duffle bag out from under my desk. At least the gym on this floor is private. I don’t know if it’s Vincent’s doing, but I’ve never seen anyone else in there. It’s not excessively big but it’s high end with the basics and a decent sized open space with rubber flooring. The perfect setting for Eric to kick my ass under the guise of teaching me self-defense.
I follow Eric down the hall to the gym. The small plaque above the door is the only indication that it exists. There are none of those stupid windows into the hallway that a lot of hotel gyms have, which is a plus. I can’t imagine coming to work out over lunch only to have my coworkers watch me bounce along on a treadmill. And if anyone does use this during the day, it must be soundproofed because I’ve never heard so much as a dumbbell clang.
Eric holds the door open and I step inside.
Opening my mouth to say something snarky, my breath catches as my steps freeze.
The room isn’t empty today.
The evening sun gleams through the wall of windows, silhouetting a body I’d recognize anywhere.
“Vincent?” I whisper his name like a question, even as a smile takes over my features.
He takes a step towards me as I hear the door click shut behind me.
“Sasha.” His voice soaks into my being.
I want to run to him. Can I do that? Is that too much?
“What are you doing here?” I ask, stunned.
He steps closer. “Disappointed?”
I know he’s teasing me, but I can’t even pretend to play along. I drop my bag on the floor and hurry to close the distance between us, slamming my body into his.
Vincent’s arms band around me, holding me tight. The scent of him envelops me and I breathe it in, welcoming the comfort. His breath against my hair tells me he’s doing the same thing.
“I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.” I speak the words into his chest, hugging him back.
“I was gone long enough.”
Vincent shifts and then his mouth is on mine. It’s hot and claiming but still gentle. His hands are framing my face, holding me still.
It’s sweet. But I want more.
A swipe of my tongue has his mouth opening, and I pull his bottom lip between my teeth. I keep my bite soft, but it serves its purpose. Vincent’s grip tightens as it shifts to my hair. I part my lips to deepen the kiss, then he’s gone.
I nearly stumble at the loss of him. I open my eyes to see Vincent striding away from me, towards the door.
“Where are you…” My words are cut off at the sound of the door lock engaging.
When Vincent turns back, I can see the hunger in his eyes. When I first walked in here, the Vincent that I saw was the cool and collected businessman. This Vincent, this is the one I know well. My Devil. My Mr. Sin.
Warmth rolls through my body, and I’ve never been more thankful for dresses. Or for my everyday shaving habit.
I expect Vincent to crash back into me, but instead he takes my hands.
Walking backwards, he pulls me with him.
“I came in here intending to see what you’ve learned in self- defense. Intending to stay professional.” He glances behind him. “To be a gentleman.”
He hasn’t said anything dirty, but my heart is racing.
“And now?” I ask.
“Now?” Vincent drops my hands and grabs my hips as he sits on some sort of weight bench. “Now, you’re going to ride my dick until you’re screaming my name.”
My whole body heats. “Holy fuck.”
I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
A smirk spreads across Vincent’s face. “Exactly.”
I brace my hands on his shoulders as I climb onto his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. My short legs combined with his large form means that our bodies are already pressed flush together. His hard length perfectly lined up with my core.
He’s so close. Right where I want him. There’s still too much between us. But the need for him has thoroughly taken over my body and I start to undulate against him.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Make yourself feel good.” He growls.
His words spur on my confidence. Vincent’s hands are still on my hips, but h
e’s letting me lead.
I need him inside me.
Trusting him to keep me from falling, I lean back and reach down between us. My fingers unclasp his belt, yanking it free from his pants and tossing it to the side. Still giving me room to work, Vincent leans forward, trailing open mouthed kisses down my neck. When he licks my cleavage, my hands flick the button of his pants open. The sound of his zipper lowering sounds through the room like an alarm. Or a dinner bell.
Tugging the material of his briefs down, I’m finally able to wrap my fingers around his hot length.
We groan in unison.
Vincent’s head drops against my chest, his back rising and falling with deep breaths.
Firming my grip, I stroke up. Down. Once. Twice. Three times.
I like this. I like being in control. I like being dominated too, but there’s something about having a man like Vincent completely at my mercy that turns me all the way on. The thrill courses through my veins and I’m instantly addicted.
I rise up on my knees, as high as I can get. Using one hand, I pull my underwear to the side. No way am I getting off this bench to remove them. I’m so ready, so slick with need, that I don’t need any prepping.
Vincent’s still so preoccupied with my hand that I don’t think he realizes exactly what I’m doing. I line up the head of his cock with my entrance. The warm wetness getting his attention. A deep sound rolls through his shoulders and his fingers tighten against my hips.
I can’t wait another second. I drop down. Sinking him inside me to the hilt.
“Fuck!” Vincent’s shout sends waves of pleasure through me. “Fuck, baby. That’s it.”
On my knees, I can’t lift off him more than a few inches, but I have enough room to rock. Forwards, backwards, over and over. When I try to rise up, it causes my body to clench around his length.
I cling to him. My breath coming out in pants.
Vincent’s hands slip under my skirt to squeeze my ass. He pulls me into him as close as I’ll go.
“Yes, baby. That’s right. Feel me inside you. Feel what you do to me.” Each word is spoken against my neck. His hot breath warming my skin, sending tingles down my spine.
He’s so deep inside of me, I’m almost uncomfortable with the fullness. My arms circle around his neck and I pull myself against him. Rocking. I’ve never come just from penetration. It always takes a hand to get me all the way off, but something about this position has me nearing the edge. When I grind down my clit rubs deliciously against the base of Vincent’s cock. The friction is perfect.
I’m getting close.
“Vincent. Oh my god. You feel so good.” I say the words directly into Vincent’s ear as I work myself against him. “I missed you.”
A dark sound rumbles through Vincent’s body. With his hands still on my ass, Vincent lifts me just enough for him to swing one leg over the bench, so now he’s straddling the bench and my legs are dangling off either side of his lap. My thighs are spread even further and there’s no way for me to lift off him. He’s as deep as he can get and now it’s me who’s entirely at his mercy.
“Tell me again.” Vincent says before dragging his teeth against my neck.
“What?” I ask, barely coherent.
“Tell me you missed me.”
I feel us move again and force my eyes to focus. Vincent slid himself up the bench so now he’s leaning against the angled backrest.
“I missed you.” The words are pulled from me as I feel my edge getting closer. “I missed you, so much.”
Then he starts to move. And I can’t think anymore.
Having a surface to leverage his back against, Vincent is able to slam his hips up, pushing himself deeper than he’s ever been before.
There’s nothing left for me to do but to hang on. And scream his name.
Between one breath and the next, my orgasm takes over. It crashes through me, and I choke out a cry as every inch of my body tingles. My limbs shake and I can feel myself pulsing around Vincent’s cock. As soon as my bliss starts to wane, he surges up once more. His release pulls me back under.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
SASHA
A soft slap on my ass has me lifting my head from its place on Vincent’s shoulder.
“Baby, if you don’t climb off, we’ll end up spending the night here on this bench. And as lovely as that sounds, I don’t relish the idea of the cleaning crew finding us like this.” Vincent’s voice vibrates through his chest into mine, reminding me of our compromised position.
“Okay, okay. I’m getting up.” I say, wondering how long we’ve been collapsed like this.
Using his chest, I press myself up to sitting. With the way my skirt is draped around us, it might look like we’re just cuddling, expect for the sheen of sweat on our foreheads.
Pretending to be graceful, I shimmy off Vincent’s lap and hurry into the small bathroom to clean up. Where I end up throwing away my now stretched out and… messy underwear.
When I emerge, Vincent has my duffle slung over his shoulder. “You’re staying with me tonight. I gave Eric the night off but told him to stop at your place to feed Captain.”
I want to argue with him about being a demanding brute, but I really do want to spend the night with him. And he did think of my cat.
But when he goes to unlock the door, I stop him. “Hold on.”
Leaving my bag on his shoulder, I open the zipper and dig around for a moment. Finding what I need, I keep my heels on as I step into my new panties and pull them up my legs.
My dress keeps the act as innocent as possible, but the look on Vincent’s face pure lust.
Undies in place, I pat his cheek and open the door.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
SASHA
“B
ut I’m not busy that night.” Annie tells her dad with the biggest puppy dog eyes.
Vincent’s not affected. “No. This is not an event for kids.” He puts a hand up to stave off any further arguments. “Or tweens. Or teens. Or young adults. Or anyone under the age of 21.”
Annie let’s out an audible sigh and slumps back into her chair. Most of dinner was consumed while Annie filled Vincent in on nearly every second he missed throughout the week. Even though I know they spoke every day while he was in New York.
Now that dinner is done, the topic has somehow turned to the upcoming charity gala. With only two nights left until the event, most of the office has been in a frenzy. My tasks are done, so my job now is to put out any fires that emerge and to finalize my end of project report. It’s sort of like an exit interview for my time with M.E. I’ll outline the company’s PR position before, during, and at the completion of my assignment. Including a list of recommendations for the future. I’ve done dozens of these before but knowing that this report is going directly to Vincent has me feeling a little bit nervous.
I know he respects my position within the company. I know he believes I’m intelligent. But something about putting it all on paper feels so different than discussing it with him in person. Plus, turning in the report doesn’t just mean my assignment is over. It means my reason for keeping our relationship a secret is also over, which causes me a whole other wave of nervousness. I feel our connection. I know it’s there. But what if - after we go public - he gets bored of me? Then instead of being Sasha Clark, PR consultant, I’ll be that girl who once dated Vincent Mazzanti.
“Sasha?”
I blink. “I’m sorry, what?” I ask, having missed whatever Annie asked me.
She grins. “You totally zoned out there. What were you thinking about?”
“The gala.” My eyes dart to Vincent, I feel like a total asshole for lying to his daughter.
“Do you know what you’re wearing? Oh!” She perks up, clearly struck with a great idea. “We could go dress shopping!”
I smile at her enthusiasm. “I hate to disappoint you, but I already bought a dress.”
“Really? Crap.” She deflates.
“Next time
, Princess.” Vincent says. “There’ll be more galas.”
I bite my lip, hating that I can’t stop myself from reading into everything he says. It’s like he heard my thoughts about the future and wanted to reassure me.
“Did you take a picture of your dress? Can I see it?” Annie asks.
“I didn’t take any photos of it, but I can show you the picture from the website.”
It only takes me a moment to find the link and the second Annie grabs my phone she honest-to-god gasps.
“Oh my god, I love it!” She squeals.
I love it, too. I was tempted to wear my usual black cocktail dress but opted for something a little extra for this event. I made a mental list of excuses as to why I needed to buy something new, but there was only one reason that mattered to me. And his name is Vincent. Even if we can’t go as a couple, I still want to look the part. I want to look like I belong on the arm of Mr. Mazzanti.
I almost backed out of ordering the dress a dozen times. But once I showed it to Jessica, she made me buy it. She argued that I’d feel comfortable in it since the fit is nearly identical to my trusty little black dress. It stops just below the knees and is form fitting without being glued on. It has a sexy-but-tasteful V-neck. The only difference is the spaghetti straps rather than my preferred cap sleeves. Oh, and instead of black, the dress is a blush pink. And covered in sequins.
Annie is practically bouncing in her seat as she clicks through all the available photos. “Sasha, you’re going to look like a supermodel in this!”
My cheeks warm at her compliment. “I appreciate your confidence.”
“Want to see, dad?”
Vincent shakes his head. “I’d prefer to be surprised.”
Annie beams at him. “She’s going to surprise your socks off.”
Vincent reaches over and places his hand on my knee under the table. “Sasha will be stunning, no matter what she wears.”