by Aubrey Rose
“We’ll get it all wet,” she exclaimed, amazed he could pick her up, not even against a wall for support.
He stopped with her nearly to the bed while she clutched his shoulders, and he seemed to ponder what she’d said for a second, then he turned and started walking out of the master bedroom. “There’s other rooms,” he announced. “I’m licking that sweet, hot pussy of yours.”
NINE / EASY ON ME NOW
Tess woke in the morning, lying on her belly. She was naked in bed, in the master bedroom of the condo, and she could feel fingers lightly stroking the crease of her behind.
“Sweet ass.” Vincent’s gravelly voice sounded by her ear. “You ever let a man in here.”
Her heartbeat seized, then began beating super slow as some fear collided with instant excitement. “N-no,” she stuttered, turning her head to look at Vincent's inky black eyes, while his fingers kept stroking and her butt started small movements, following.
He felt the movements and his gaze turned molten and wicked, like only pitch-black eyes could. “I like that,” he said, then he grabbed a cheek, squeezing. “Virgin ass.”
Her eyes widened and she was about to start sputtering millions of excuses and reasons she ... they, should not go there, when he chuckled and said, “You need to get to work, beautiful, I let you sleep in.”
His hand still warmly held the contours of her buttock, while she quickly turned her head to look at the bedside clock. “Oh, heck,” she exclaimed. She had an hour, maybe. As she rolled out of bed, away from his enticing hand, she wondered how Vincent knew what time she had to be to work. Once she stood beside the bed, she winced lightly. She was a tad sore after their marathon sex sessions last night, and she meant mar-a-thon. My God, Vincent was amazing!
“Damn it, knew you’d get sore,” he muttered, and she turned to look down at him; a pure masculine vision sprawled across the bed with tussled black hair and a fine, rope-muscled chest. He was so handsome lying in her temporary bed with his well-built chest bare and just a sheet pulled up to barely cover his groin.
“Not sure you know this about women, honey,” she started to explain back. “But we have a good sore and bad sore and this, baby, is a really good sore. It’s going to put me back into our hot moments together, all day, whenever I feel it.”
“Hot moments,” he stated, with his gaze trailing over her really naked body, in the light of day. It was one thing to see naked bits and parts of her, here and there, but all at once, when she was sober. Eek.
She scurried to the bathroom, her finger pointing at him. “No shower sex, now. No, no. Get me? No!”
She got ready in less than twenty minutes. It was record time, mostly because Vincent was gone from the bedroom when she got out of her quick shower. Putting on her makeup, she realized that she hadn’t been thinking about her disintegrating marriage, her hurtful asshole husband, the cheating, or any of it at all.
She’d been too busy having an amazingly hot and dazzling affair with a man who was the definition of manly. She’d have to mull it all over later at work, because she didn’t have time then to analyze it.
Moments later, when she came slowly down the stairs, she could smell coffee, while her gaze searched for Vincent. Next she sighed with a happy and excited breath at the sight of him, leaning on the kitchen island with his shirt opened, his feet bare, and his ridged belly drawing her gaze down to the unzipped top of his jeans. Wow. Tingles leisurely tingled through her and she wondered if she’d ever been more attracted to a man as she acutely felt the truly good soreness between her legs. Vincent watched her over the rim of his coffee mug, tilted to his lips, as his gaze roamed over her.
She’d chosen a pleated leather mini skirt with a ruffled print camisole and a pair of leopard-print short kit boots with four-inch heels. She might have gone overboard trying to impress Vincent, but his gaze said, even though her hair was still wet, he liked what he saw.
He set his coffee cup on the island top and he started to walk toward her with intentions striking his features. They met before she took the last step down and it put her to his height with her heels on.
“You wear this to work?” His voice was low as he latched on to her waist with his gaze traveling over her, down to her sexy boots. Then he commanded, “Tonight. You naked. In just those.”
He was looking at her leopard kit boots, which were very hot, and the tingles turned into heated throbs caused by his words. She wasn’t going to be able to get his sexy, hot idea out of her head all day.
Then his voice rumbled, “Hell, there's not time for what I wanna do to you this second.”
His hand grabbed her ass and skirt, pulling her to him. She laughed with excitement, bracing her hand on his shoulders, then she mimicked his deep voice. “Hell, there’s no time for what I want to do to you this second.” Her hands stroked down the warm, tight skin on his bare chest, showing him how she felt about his shirt being open. He chuckled and she loved the sound of it.
“We’re never going to get a chance to talk,” he muttered.
She tilted her head while roaming her hands down the sides of his cut waist. “There's no pillow talk with you,” she agreed. “Afterward there’s only wipe-out glow.”
He grabbed her waist, lifting her in the air, and she quickly grasped his shoulders. “Wipe-out glow, is it?” He brought her down slowly; pressed into his body the entire way. “I might have to call you to talk.” Then he said, “Give me that pretty mouth, no tongue, so you can get to work.”
That sounded so good that she did it, winding her arms over his shoulders so she balanced on the tip of her kit boots, while he grasped her wet hair and moved her mouth to his. Right before their lips touched, he said, “Easy on me now.”
She laughed as they started their kiss, which did turn hot even without tongue. She was lost in their hot kissing, and not tracking, but there was a clicking sound, a rattle, and then Vincent stiffened against her. Next a voice threw her completely out of the kiss.
“Who the hell is she!”
Vincent’s lips tore from hers. “Fuck,” he barked, dropping her and standing back.
The screech got louder. “That’s Steven’s fucking bitch!”
It was Luna freaking Whitehorse standing in the entryway with what looked like a key for the condo in her hand. Tess stumbled back to the stairway and grabbed the rail as Vincent moved to the island, but in front of her. With a vicious throw, Luna hurled her key ring at Vincent with such force it would have cut him had he not ducked to the side.
“You’re fucking her!” Luna screeched. She stomped forward. “Are you fucking her!” Her beautiful face was twisted. “Are you fucking her, Vin!” she shouted. “In my house!”
Her house? Was this Luna’s condo?
Then, before Tess realized, Luna grabbed a decorative bowl off the island and had it in the air with a heave, but she threw it toward Tess while shrieking, “He’s mine, bitch! He’s fucking mine, bitch!”
Tess cried out as the bowl went sailing, but Vincent snagged it out of the air with a bat of his hand and it sailed into the sink, hitting and shattering. Then, before Tess could blink, a metal serving spoon came at her next.
“Tess, upstairs now!” Vincent shouted, just managing to bat the spoon away.
“That bitch! That fucking bitch, I’ll tear her up!”
Tess was shaking and panting as she ran upstairs. The woman was insane! She hit the landing and saw Vincent had tackled Luna’s attempt to follow her. Vincent had Luna by the waist from behind, swinging her away from the stairs. Tess didn’t look any more; she just ran to the bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it.
“Ohmygod,” she panted, leaning against the door. “It’s like she’s mentally ill or something.”
Tess could hear shouting downstairs, but not the words. She grabbed her purse to get her cell while wondering if she should call 9-1-1. The only way to know was to look downstairs, so she kept her cell in her hand and slowly unlocked the door. As softly as she cou
ld, she opened it, and she could hear raised voices, but they weren’t shouting any longer.
She tiptoed down the hall but her heartbeat stalled for breathtaking and agonizing seconds when she heard Vincent saying, “I just did her to get back at you, Luna.” His words were snarled and low. “I knew you were doing Navarro.”
Tess’ hand shot to her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. “Baby, I thought I had to do him to get my shot at fame.” That was Luna. Tess sank down against the wall with tears burning her eyes.
“I don’t fucking want her, Luna, it was a point,” Vincent’s voice growled.
No, no, no cried through Tess’ mind.
TEN / NOT FOR A BABE LIKE YOU
Tess stomped into the office of Rowdie’s Motel, hoping her puffy eyes and red nose looked more like she was drunk than the truth—she’d been crying. It was freaking nine thirty in the morning, so if she were drunk it had to look like a bender. She saw her target and marched to the counter. There was a vague bit of surprise in the back of her mind seeing Finn O’Neil behind the counter that early. Really, her surprise was how hot he looked in a really badass criminal way, but she was heartbroken and could not dwell on that.
“I want a room,” she stated in a voice that sounded like an everyday calm voice, which she was proud of, seeing as Vincent Whitehorse had just crushed her heart, used it, and then tossed it back.
Tess avoided Finn’s crystal-green eyes, until she heard his gravelly voice announce, “No fucking way, Chiquita.”
“Ah ...” she started to say, looking up at him and seeing his black goatee pulled down with the line of his firm lips. Those eyes of his gazing straight into her gave her an inappropriate, but nevertheless real, thrill of awareness. “You can’t deny me a room,” she explained.
He stood from a stool he’d been sitting on. It brought him over her and the counter between them even with her high-heeled kit boots on. Her heartbeat fluttered more as he leaned over the counter and she forced herself not to back away. That close he was even more handsome, with long, dark eyelashes and black hair so thick it shone as if it were wet. Then she smelled a yummy Irish spring soap smell, mixed with man, wafting over her that must have lingered from a very recent shower. She tilted toward the smell before she could help herself.
Those brilliant jeweled eyes of his narrowed slightly as if he studied her, suddenly becoming very intent. She might have forgotten to breathe.
“Breathe,” he ordered on a rumbled growl. Tess shuddered and sucked in a breath. “Where’s your man, Vincent?” he demanded, looking at her mouth, which got nervous and she had to lick her lips.
This seemed to narrow his gaze further. “He’s not my man,” she hissed. “I’m married,” she blurted, and why she thought to add that ridiculous assertion was beyond her.
“Don’t need to tell you the affair on that one,” Finn said with a gentler, deep voice. Tess blinked. Hell, he knew! Finn, owner of the dive motel in town, knew about her husband’s affair. Had the cheaters come to Rowdie’s? The question was on the tip of her tongue when he continued.
“I know you know. Now take your sweet ass back to Whitehorse.”
Even though Tess liked his deep voice calling her ass sweet, she almost growled out loud, but instead of snarling in frustration she snapped at him, “You know too much about my business, Mr. O’Neil.”
“Finn,” he snapped back.
Then, just to piss him off more, she put her elbows on his high motel office counter, got up on her toes because she was short, and she leaned in. “Mr. O’Neil,” she said, snottily. “I demand a room.”
His body arrowed over the counter with his nose to her nose and she sucked in another breath. “You. Fucking call me, Finn, Chiquita.”
His sex-appeal-domination vibe sort of rolled over her, making things perk on her that had no business perking. “For a room, I’ll stop,” she tried, seeing so close that he had gold spikes in his incredibly charged green eyes.
“Too dangerous here,” he muttered.
“I need a room,” she whispered. “Really need one.”
He started to shake his head slowly, his lips drawing a firm line inside his goatee, and her gaze was so close she saw how young he was. Not like younger than her, but his overall bad vibe, adding to his facial hair and tats, when standing back, made him seem older. But he’d been in her class in high school.
“Please, Finn,” she tried some more.
“This is not the place for a babe like you,” he stated in the lowest, quietest gravelly voice she’d heard from him yet.
She quelled the shiver trying to run through her and opened her mouth to try again, when a swishing sound sounded behind her, then a scratchy woman’s voice demanded, “I need the key to twelve if you're done screwing her with your gaze.”
Tess kind of jumped back from Finn, while he moved slower, then Tess looked over her shoulder to see a slender blond woman approaching the counter. The woman was a very pretty, Suzy-homemaker type, and all that was missing was the apron. She had blond hair in a twist with a modest pink shell top and Capri pants over flat sandals along with a shoulder purse. She even had small pearls at her neck.
Finn growled at the woman, but it didn’t faze her as she reached across the counter with her hand raised out. Finn turned stiffly, nabbed a key, turned back, and slapped it on the counter. “Don’t break him, Katie,” he rasped, pulling his hand away, leaving the key.
“I’m going to fuck his brains out,” Katie decreed without a glance to Tess, who stood with her lips parted in surprise. Then Katie grabbed the keys and turned, but stopped to look at Tess. “Piece of advice,” she said, nodding toward Finn so the unwanted advice she was going to impart had to be about him. “Be an animal in bed or he will toss you aside.”
Then she stomped away, as Tess stuttered, “I-I’m not going in his bed.”
Finn uttered, “Fuck,” under his breath.
Katie was out the door and Tess saw her meet a tall, bald man outside, who grabbed Katie’s ass, then they both swung toward one of the rooms.
“Who was that?” Tess exclaimed, not really thinking she’d get any answer. It had to be an old fling of Finn’s
“My wife,” Finn’s voice barked behind her.
“B-but she ...” Tess turned to him, then looked back at Katie and the man opening the door to a room. “But she’s ...” Tess swung her hand around. “But you let her ...”
“Yeah,” Finn growled. “And just so you know, babe, I don’t give a fuck. I begged for that pussy once. Never do it again.”
“Okay,” Tess whispered, looking over Finn’s firm features for pain or regrets, and seeing none. What a story that must be. But she shook her head, trying to get back to her mission. A room.
“If you give her a room, you have to give me one,” she announced.
“Hers is for an hour tops ...” Finn paused. “No fuck, thirty minutes, not overnight.”
“But you’ll be here, there are chains on the door, and I have my cell to call 9-1-1. I need a room.” He shook his head. So desperately, she whispered, “I can’t go back to Steven.” Unwanted tears started gathering in her eyes.
“Shit,” Finn cussed, and Tess swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to call back her tears. She knew she’d gotten through to Finn, now she didn't want to outright bawl in front of him.
“Got a room, down the hall behind me. Ready in a couple hours.”
Tess looked behind him down the hall. “That’s the only way to get in?” she asked, not liking the setup.
“Only way you stay here, Chiquita,” Finn stated without compromise.
Tess sighed; at least she had a place, and maybe being back there behind the counter, it would be a place no one could get to her. “I’ll pay by the week, and thank you, Finn, really.”
“Mistake,” he muttered.
“I’ll be back in two hours,” she stated firmly.
Tess drove to her shop, feeling too confused and emotionally blank to handle much, so she was gl
ad her young part-time helper Shannon had opened the shop for her that morning. After Vincent had left the condo with Luna, not stopping to say a word to Tess upstairs, for which she was really grateful but puzzled about, she’d thrown all her belongings into her car. They were piled haphazardly in her back seat and trunk, and she really needed to fix them so she could put them in the room Finn was getting her.
But she kept wondering why Vincent hadn’t come upstairs and leveled with her. Thrown her out, even. She didn’t believe he knew she’d overheard his confession to Luna.
I just did Tess to get to you, Luna. Then ... I don’t fucking want her, Luna, it was a point.
“God, I’m such an idiot!” Tess shouted inside her car as she drove. “So stupid, stupid.”
Of course Vincent had been using her to get back at Luna. But then why hadn’t he called her to tell her to get out of the condo?
“Does. Not. Matter,” Tess ground out, glad she could feel anger because it was overriding her hurt and devastated feelings. She wanted Vincent. God, with everything inside her, she wanted him. “That doesn’t matter,” she hissed, shoving the feelings deep.
She was acting like a cracked lunatic ... she had a marriage to dissolve and get out from under. Then she cussed really badly. Luna had both Steven and Vincent. That bitch.
When she pulled up to the alley behind her shop she nearly turned around, seeing the blue WTSF van parked beside her flower shop.
“Not today of all days,” she exclaimed. They were there to install a security system Vincent had made her take. “Why is he doing this?” she cried, slapping her steering wheel.
She pressed forward, knowing she had to as she pulled into her parking spot, praying Vincent had nothing to do with being in that van. Just then her cell rang, and she grabbed it—squinting at the cell phone hard when she saw Vincent’s name.
She muttered angrily, punching receive call, then without waiting she spat, “I do not want your security system. Get them the freak out of here!”