Vicky slammed the back door. “Funny, so did I.” She walked around to the driver’s side door. “You should probably get out of the way so I don’t run you down.”
Derek stepped backward onto the grass. Vicky hoped he would trip and fall on his ass, but as always, the man had the reflexes of a cat. Olivia’s face hung, pale and round-eyed in one of the garage door windows. From experience Vicky knew from that vantage point the other woman could hear every word. Vicky backed out with deliberate calm, leaving no tire marks on the drive. She backed into the turn around, reoriented her car and coasted to the street. Supposedly looking for traffic, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Derek was still standing on the grass, but Olivia had disappeared from the garage window. No doubt she was inside trying to look like she’d been innocently working Sudoku puzzles on her ereader the whole time.
Vicky drove to a parking lot at a lake overlook and pulled in. A few other cars dotted the lot and families clustered along the fence searching for Canada in the distance. She took out her phone again and stared at Ryan. Good looking, clever, kind, willing. She called him.
Four rings. No answer. Damn, he must be busy. She stared out the windshield at the gray water and the phone rang in her hand.
“Hey Vic, what’s wrong?” Ryan asked.
“Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay. I was up a ladder and couldn’t answer before.”
“Not a problem.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound funny. Did you pick up your stuff?”
“I got the clothes I went for.” And a little payback.
“Good. Can’t wait to see you in them.” His voice dropped. “Can’t wait to take them off you either.”
“I’m looking forward to that myself. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I—well—I guessed, but you never said it.”
“I do. I love you.” A warm sensation developed in her chest, trying to well out her eyes. Crying would make it hard to drive home.
“I love you too, babe. Be careful on the drive home.”
“I will. I’ll be there in about two hours.”
“Okay, I’ll be done here in about three, three and a half. See you at home and we can go out tonight.”
“See you at home.” Out tonight. He kept pushing this out thing. Did he not remember what happened last time? Dealing with Frankie all week had been awkward because of it. Well, she’d just have to cook a nice dinner at home and convince him.
The two-hour drive to Ryan’s was a lot less stressful than it had been the first time, but then she’d just dumped her one suitcase in the back of her car and cried the whole way. Ryan’s first sight of her must have really been a doozy. Good thing he got past that.
At the house, she parked the car and considered her options. No reason to move three twenty-five gallon tubs of clothes anywhere that wasn’t going to be their final destination. He usually slept in her bed in the apartment, but there was no reason to keep doing that. If she moved into the house then they could rent out the apartment to someone else, making him money. He hadn’t slept in his own bed, as far as she could tell, since Lissa, but there was no reason he couldn’t. She’d cleaned the room weeks ago, closing the gaps Lissa left behind and tidying everything. Now she could exorcise that little demon permanently. Might be nice to move in for real, too.
She dragged one box full of her ideal weight clothes directly to the attic. No need in wrecking her ego trying that stuff on now. The other two boxes she unpacked and sorted in his bedroom, filling the drawers and the gap in the closet Lissa had used for her things. Her fancy dress gowns, she returned to one of the tubs and took it to his attic. Maybe she’d sell them to a consignment shop or online when she found time. By the time Ryan pulled in, she had everything put away and was modeling an old outfit of white capri pants and a pale blue, lace-trimmed silk cami. A little snug still across the hips, but easily zipped.
Chapter Six
“Vicky, are you here?” Ryan shouted. Heavy work boots thumped around the first floor.
“Upstairs.”
“What are you doing up here?” He stomped up the stairs and into the room. “Why are you in here?”
“I moved my things in. Just the things I brought from my old house. I’ll get my things from the apartment tomorrow.” Vicky twisted to see the reflection of her rear end in the mirror. Not bad at all.
“But why here? What was wrong with your apartment?”
“Seemed silly to take up an apartment that you could be using for income when I could just move into your house.”
“Why would you want to move in here?”
“Because it’s your house.” She found his face in the mirror. He should look happier than that.
“Exactly, it’s my house and you just moved in.”
She turned to face him. “What’s wrong with that? You’ve been living with me for weeks. I just condensed us into one house so you can rent out the apartment to someone else and I won’t have to run between kitchens for supplies.”
“I just wish you’d asked me.”
She pooched out her lower lip and crooked her finger at him. “I suppose I should have. Let me make it up to you.”
He moved closer, still frowning.
“Don’t be like that,” she murmured, brushing his hair off his face and kissing his cheek. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Do you have some issue with us having sex in the same bed that you slept with Lissa in?” She pulled him toward the mattress. “Don’t tell me you’re still hung up on her.”
“Hell no.”
She sat down on the edge. “Down on your knees, please.”
“Can’t we fuck face to face?”
Nose to belt buckle with him would have been fine if that was what she had in mind, but all day she’d been thinking of his tongue teasing her bits before the main event and he always came home too hard to last long enough without a starter. “Sure, after a little appetizer.”
He knelt, slipping his hands under her cami. “I like this shirt. Slippery.”
“Then you’ll like what’s underneath.”
“I can’t wait.” He slid the cami over her head and buried his face in the cleavage enhanced by her peach silk bra. “Damn, this is nice. Top and bottom?”
“Open up and find out.” She buried her fingers in his hair as he fiddled open her capri pants and slid them down. The peach silk panties were already wet.
He sucked in a deep breath. “Damn you smell good.”
“I packed all my lingerie with lavender.” She ran her hands along his broad, tan shoulders.
“I like it.” He worked her panties over her hips. “I like this too. You have a lot of this stuff?”
“Quite a bit.”
“Excellent.” He kissed the inside of her thigh.
Vicky lay back on the bed, letting her knees fall open wider. He covered her hot clit with his mouth, sweeping across her with his tongue. It was a slow, easy simmer as he worked her, sliding his fingers inside. The room was hot and stuffy. Sweat glossed her skin. So good. He’d become adept at coiling her up so she could enjoy the ride.
“Now, baby?” he asked.
Her calf twitched with the intensity of her want. “Almost.”
He bent back to her slick core more urgently.
She sucked in a harsh, needy breath. “Yes, yes. Condom.”
He grumbled, crawling to the bedside table and finding a condom while she repositioned herself further up the bed. Rolling onto her side, she watching him rip opened the package and sheath himself in the latex before crawling into the bed. He reached across her.
“No, me on top,” she said.
He lay down on his back so she could straddle him. Leaning down to kiss him, she reached between them. He groaned when she wrapped her fingers around his thick, hard shaft. “Don’t play with that too much or it’ll pop.”
“We don’t want tha
t.” She kissed him, driving her tongue into his mouth, tasting herself on his lips. He unclasped her bra so he could toy with her nipples. The electric buzz of his touch shot through her, making her break her kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She sunk down on him, pumping with easy rhythm. “How do you like this?” From the expression on his face, he was entirely caught up in it.
He clutched her hips, encouraging her to go faster. “God, you are good. You taste like heaven and you fuck like hell.”
“Do you think about me all day?”
“Every day.” He grunted. “I can’t hold out.”
She rocked harder, driving herself against him. He thought she was beautiful, just like this. He wanted her. He loved her.
Climax shocked her rigid. When he released her, she slouched forward. He rolled them onto their sides, stroking her shoulders and back. “We’ll work it out,” he said.
“Work what out?” Drifting in the afterglow she couldn’t imagine what could need working out.
“Just stuff. I love you, you love me.” He tangled his fingers into her hair. “You look so hot. I’m glad you got your old clothes.”
“Me, too.” Getting back into those clothes had been a life goal. “I had a few more pounds to go and I’ll be able to get into my other clothes.”
“Do you have to lose more weight? You get any skinnier and you’re going to blow away in a strong wind.”
“I want to get back down to what I weighed when I was married.”
“So we’ll get married and you’ll already be down to what you weighed when you were married.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She rolled to the side of the bed and stretched.
“What’s ridiculous about it? We could get married.”
“They’re two separate things. I still want to lose the weight.” Her bra was on the floor beside the bed and her panties were at the foot and still damp. She threw both in the hamper and opened a drawer to select a fresh set.
“You put stuff in the drawers?”
“Of course. I told you I moved in.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. He’d stood up and was pulling his jeans back on. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“It’s not. You just surprised me is all. I’m going to take a shower before we go out.”
“I don’t want to go out.” The blue set would match the cami and still be pale enough to wear under the white capris.
“I thought we were going out tonight. There’s a thing in town.” He stopped beside her at the dresser. “Did you make something?”
“No, I was going to run to the store and get a rotisserie chicken and throw together a salad.” She snapped on the bra. “I’ll be back before you get out of the shower.”
“Or you could wait for me to take a quick shower and then we’ll go out to dinner together.”
“I don’t want to.” She pulled up her panties. The cami and the capris were at the foot of the bed too. She stepped around him to get them.
“I do. Why can’t we do what I want to do for once?”
“Don’t you remember what happened last time we went out?” Vicky rolled her eyes as she shimmied into the capris. “I’d rather not repeat that.”
“It’s not going to happen and who cares if it does? Come on, baby, let’s go out. You look hot and I want to show you off.”
“No.” She slid the cami over her head. “I’ll be back from the store in a flash.”
“God dammit.” Ryan slammed his fist on the dresser. “We are going out.”
Vicky jumped. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting my way for once.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She picked up her purse. “You get your way.”
“I do not. I come home and it’s hey I moved into your house, lick my pussy, hire Frankie back, eat what I put in front of you, fuck me like this, don’t touch me like that, you’re going to work like this now.”
“I didn’t twist your arm. Hiring Frankie has already been good for your business. Moving into your house just makes sense. I thought you liked going down on me.”
“I do, but Jesus I come in the bedroom and you tell me to kneel like I’m your fucking slave or something.” He put his fists on his hips.
“You sound like a child, crying because you don’t get your way.” She walked out of the bedroom.
“Ever. I don’t get my way ever.” He followed her down the stairs. “Once in a while it would be nice if I got to say, hey I want to be on top.”
“You can be on top next time if it’s so important to you.” This argument was irrational and sounded a lot like the ones she’d had with Derek, only she’d been reading Ryan’s lines.
“It’s not, but I would like to call the shots some times and I want to go out to eat tonight. There’s a think in town and I could make a lot of contacts. You’d want to go if it was your idea, but since it isn’t it’s a no go.”
“I don’t want to go out to eat because I don’t want to be humiliated by your friends and exes in your hometown. You can go by yourself if this event is so important to you.” That was not an option Derek ever offered her. With him, it was his way or his way. She stopped at the front door. “Now, am I going to pick up dinner for both of us or should I only get enough for myself?”
“You’re going to do whatever you want to do anyway. Why ask?”
“Oh brother.” Vicky walked out to her car. This was nothing like the arguments she’d had with Derek. “I’ll be back in a little while. Go take your shower.”
In the rear view mirror she saw him standing on the porch watching her drive down the driveway, only wearing his jeans. He was being childish.
But if he was being childish, why did she want to throw up?
This afternoon she’d made a logical decision to move her things into his house. She could have asked him, but he wasn’t home. Of course, she could have called to ask. Why hadn’t she? When he wasn’t happy about it, she lured him to bed. Vicky bit her lip. Actually, she told him to kneel. But he always came home just about ready to explode and she needed a bit of foreplay or she was left unsatisfied. Then he wanted to be on top and she said no. Lying on her back, all her fat blobbed out around her. It was disgusting. When she was on top she looked better and man were visual creatures. Everything she did, she did for him. By the time she got home with dinner, he’d be showered and over it.
At the grocery store she parked and went inside. Their chickens were on the weedy side, scrawny and dry looking.
“They’re not very nice looked today, are they?” the woman beside her said.
“Not especially. I guess I’m on to plan B.”
“Wait, do I know you?”
Vicky frowned at the woman. “I doubt it. I only moved here a few months ago.”
“I recognize your voice. You have been answering the phone at Ryan’s. It’s so nice to meet you in person finally.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m Emily Ferguson. Ryan comes by once a week and turns my compost for me.”
“Of course. A pleasure to meet you.” Vicky shook the older woman’s hand.
“He has been so much happier since he got involved with you.”
“So have I. He’s a wonderful man.” When he wasn’t acting like a spoiled child.”
“I guess I’ll be talking to you on the phone frequently then. Good luck with plan B.” Emily Ferguson pushed her cart away apparently not at all put off by the age difference.
Vicky perused the deli, but pickings were slim this late in the day.
“Hello and how are you?” the deli clerk said. “You look nice today.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I help you find something?”
“I was looking for something for dinner.”
“Oh, don’t look here.” He shook his head. “The football boosters are having a pig roast at the high school so we kinda under cooked figuring everybody would be there. It’s just over in the high school gym.”
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The high school gym with every other resident of town who had seen her riding and jogging along the country roads and knew how old Ryan was. Sheer hell. “Thank you.”
Last ditch, she turned to the refrigerated section. Derek had always been very picky about food. To appease him, she’d learned to cook like a professional chef. He criticized her cooking anyway. Ryan had never criticized anything she put in front of him.
Until today when he said she never let him have his way. Had she ever once said eat what I put in front of you? She hadn’t had to because he always had. She picked up a package of Oscar Meyer pulled pork. If she brought this home and put it in front of him still in the package with a loaf of bread on the side, he’d be fine with it. Like it even. Just because she hadn’t personally met the pig, seen where it had been raised, observed the butchering, and cooked it herself didn’t mean there was anything wrong with it.
Today at the house, Derek’s house, he had ordered Olivia inside and it had made Vicky queasy because she remembered being that woman. Letting Derek bark orders at her like she was some kind of inferior. Controlling her with outright orders and subtle criticism. All the digs about her weight, her cooking, and her taste in decorating. Ryan would never do any of that. He told her she was perfect the way she was.
But she did it to him.
She had ordered him to his knees and covered it with a please then refused to go out to eat because—because she didn’t want to. Nobody here gave a tinker’s damn how many years difference there were between them. A small town like this, they probably all knew already exactly how deep the waters ran between her and Ryan. When Lissa ambushed them at the restaurant she’d said that she heard.
Vicky put down the pulled pork. Might be nice to go out tonight. Maybe even go back to that Mexican place. She hadn’t had a margarita in years. Provided he was willing to forgive her.
Driving home, her hands were shaking. Ryan was sitting in a lawn chair in the backyard wearing only jeans with wet hair and a beer in his hand. Well built, tan, comfortable with himself. There had been a time when she’d been like that. Before she met Derek.
“You get dinner?” he asked.
Covet the Curves: a Romance Collections Anthology Page 23