Can't Buy Your Love

by Lockwood, Tressie

  “Oh no.”

  His lips compressed into a straight line, and his brows dropped low. “She said they were studying together.”

  Vanity frowned. “Don’t tell me you believed that crap.”

  “I beat them almost unconscious and threw them out of my apartment. Melinda accused me of not trusting her. I told her she had no idea, but we separated for a while, and then we were on and off again continually for the next few years.”

  So what Melinda said in the grocery story was true. Their relationship had its ups and downs. Maybe this time spent with Vanity was one of the down points. “When’s the last time you two were together? Wait, don’t answer that. I—”

  He ran a hand over her belly and stroked her inner thigh. She drew in a shuddering breath. “Just before Jamie was born.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. The flash of pain in his face brought an ache to her chest.

  “To be honest, I don’t know if Jamie is mine.”

  “You’re not serious?”

  “I would like to believe so, but like I said, Melinda wasn’t faithful. Before you ask, no, we haven’t had a paternity test, and my name is on his birth certificate since we were married at the time of his birth. However, I’m ashamed that I don’t want to risk it. Jamie is everything to me, and Melinda has always been content to allow me to support him. We have joint custody. He lives with her during the school year and me for the summer and every spring and winter break. To rock that boat isn’t something I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  Vanity thought about the little boy and his appearance. Jamie took his looks from his mother. One could attribute his nose to Owen, but that could be wishful thinking, as Owen’s nose wasn’t distinctive. Now if he had those blue eyes or that dirty blond hair that would be good. Jamie’s hair and eyes matched those of his mother. How unfair. The poor boy—and man.

  “I understand, and I’m sorry.”

  “Enough serious talk. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  They washed quickly, and Owen climbed from the tub to help her out. He dried them both, and she slung her arms around his neck. He pushed her hair from her face and stared into her eyes. Vanity thought she saw the love he said he felt glinting from his, and it both drew her closer and made her want to run scared. What did she feel for him? She still didn’t know.

  Vanity climbed on Owen’s bed and reached out for his cock when he walked up. “This time, I please you, and no denying me, Owen.”

  He ran a finger down her chest to her nipple and flicked it gently. “Say it again, baby.”

  “Say what again?”

  “Say my name.”

  She stroked him from base to tip and paused. “Owen, I’m going to make you feel good.”

  “Yes, baby.” He shut his eyes, standing in front of her. “You’re already half way there.” He closed his hand over hers wrapped around his cock, and he made her squeeze him. His grunt of pleasure in a deep tone spurred her on. “One touch is all it takes.”

  She tipped his shaft toward her and licked the beaded precome on the head. Owen hissed between his teeth. She took him into her mouth, sucked hard, and then worked her way down the sides, her concentration on the thick vein running his length. His girth was such her fingers just touched at the tips, but she pushed him as much as she could between her lips. A moan deep in her throat sent the vibrations through his dick, and she knew he liked it. Vanity had gone down on a lover many times in the past, but this seemed different. Her feelings for him might not be clear, but he was more than all the other men she’d known.

  Vanity moaned and sucked his cock deep into her mouth. She didn’t suppress the sounds but gave herself over to letting him feel and hear everything she did. She stroked his taut thigh muscle and ran her hand around to his ass to give it a squeeze. Embracing him with both hands, she controlled his dick with her mouth alone and took him deep and allowed him to slide out at a fast-paced rhythm. Owen began to pump his hips, easy and then a bit faster. He groaned and begged her not to stop. She didn’t plan on it, but pumped his amazing shaft until he jerked and grabbed her shoulders to hold her still. He stiffened, and the next moment, Vanity’s mouth filled with his come. He pulled back, but she held onto his ass, drinking down his hot liquid.

  When he was done, he dropped to his knees and drew her into his arms. He skimmed a hand over her back, holding her head to his shoulder. “Vanity.” The emotion tied up into her name shook her from head to toe. She remained in his arms a long while, neither of them speaking.

  After some time, Owen stood up and pulled Vanity with him. They climbed onto the bed together, and she lay facing him, stroking his cock. He grew hard under her palm, and then he moved her hand away. He reached for a condom from the nightstand and rolled it into place before he raised one of her legs to position over his hips and tugged her closer. Vanity bit her lip from the first second he thrust his cock into her. She moaned and stretched her legs wider. He sank deeper as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. They moved together in a steady rhythm, their bodies in perfect harmony. With each passing second, her desire increased along with her pleasure. She cried out his name but didn’t allow her voice to rise too high. She clung to him, riding on his shaft and loving the way he glided in and out. Her pussy gushed with her release, but she didn’t slow down. With one arm slung about his neck, she reached between them and pinched her clit. Another orgasm rose to fever pitch. She struggled to catch her breath.

  Owen groaned his bliss. “Vanity, do you know how good you feel? You’re so tight and wet, you make me want to forget everything except your sweet pussy.”

  He pulled out and flipped her over. Vanity didn’t have the chance to move on her own. He raised her to her knees and hunched behind her. He pierced her with his thick cock, and her arms gave. She kneeled there, ass in the air as Owen pummeled deep inside of her.

  Vanity rubbed her clit, jerking her hips back and forth. Sensations of need rocked through her system, and she planted her hands on the backboard. Owen seemed to take it as a signal to pumper harder. Vanity drove into his thrust and cried out for more. Her lover gripped her hips, and soon the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of their flesh meeting and the shouts when they both came.

  Chapter Five

  Vanity left Owen’s bed sometime in the middle of the night. She had intended to grab water from the bathroom, but there was no cup there, so she threw on one of his T-shirts and headed downstairs. After she satisfied her thirst, she checked the clock. At two a.m., did she want to slip over to Aunt Ella’s so Jamie wouldn’t question what she was doing there in the early morning, or did she want to stay a bit longer with Owen? She wouldn’t lie to herself. Lying in Owen’s arms felt good. The way he held her and stared into her eyes drew her closer like nothing else, but wouldn’t it be dangerous to stay—to her heart most of all?

  She stood in the living room chewing on a thumbnail considering it. In a few days, her time in Charlotte would be up, and they had not discussed a long-term relationship. Hell, she had never had a relationship with a man. Maybe in his eyes, telling her he loved her was all a part of the process of a brief affair.

  While she debated, lights flashed in Owen’s driveway. Vanity frowned and peered out the window. Her eyes widened when someone got out of the car and stepped up to the door.

  “What the hell? It’s two in the morning,” Vanity muttered. Thinking it might be a family member who hadn’t been able to reach Owen on the phone, she flipped the light on outside and peered through the window. The unwelcome sight of Melinda met her gaze. After a single bell ring, Vanity unlocked the door and jerked it open. “It’s late, Melinda.”

  “What are you—” Her annoyed gaze raked Vanity from head to toe. “Where’s Owen? He shouldn’t bring home every whore he chooses to sleep with. It’s not good for Jamie.”

  Vanity put a hand on her hip but didn’t move from the doorway. “I agree about bringing women around your son, but call me a whore again, and you’ll
be picking your teeth up from the welcome mat.”

  Melinda rolled her eyes. “You do not scare me, missy. I have been in a few fights in my life, and I’m no pushover.”

  Vanity took a step forward. “Try me.”

  Pink tinged Melinda’s cheeks. She parted her lips to speak again, but a sound at the top of the stairs caught both their attention. Owen’s bare feet came into view as he descended the stairs. “Baby, what’s going on? I thought I heard the bell.”

  At his use of the endearment, Melinda’s coloring heightened. If she gritted her teeth any tighter, they would turn to powder. Vanity saw the change come over the woman, a determination to charm any man within her vicinity. “Owen, I’m sorry I’m so late. I meant to come earlier, but well, dealing with Mama and Daddy…you know how it is.”

  This time, it was Vanity’s turn to be pissed off. Logic told her Owen wouldn’t invite her to spend the night if he expected Melinda. At the same time, if he thought Melinda had stood him up, he might make other plans. No, Vanity, he’s not that kind of man. Just chill out.

  “Melinda…” Owen began.

  She darted past Vanity and laid a hand on his arm. “I need to talk to you about Jamie. It’s important. Please, Owen.”

  Vanity saw him stiffen and remembered what he had told her about his worry concerning Jamie. Did he go through this every tine Melinda made some cryptic remark regarding their son? She couldn’t imagine the torment that must be, but if it were her, she would need to know for sure. Better that than to let this bitch hang mess over his head...unless Melinda didn’t suspect his worries. Vanity eyed the woman but didn’t see a knowing expression on her face.

  “Maybe I should leave.” Vanity turned away.

  Owen grabbed her hand and kept her from going far. “I’m sure this can wait until morning, Melinda.”

  His ex seemed desperate at the thought of being put out of the house with Vanity still there. She struck a dramatic pose, eyes wide, hands folded over her chest. Vanity tried not to gag.

  “I know I shouldn’t have waited to tell you, Owen, but Daddy’s not getting any better. In fact, he’s worse, and it’s harder for Mama to take care of him. They’ve decided to move to Chicago to get Aunt Angie to help. But well…you know things haven’t been going well for me as far as a job here, and I can’t stay at the house with them selling it.”

  Owen stilled, and Vanity eased her hand from his. He didn’t appear to notice her. He ran a hand through his hair and turned toward the couch. “Come in. We need to talk about this.”

  Vanity waited near the door and watched Melinda follow Owen. She’d been wearing a long trench coat, but when she unbuttoned it and slipped it off her shoulders, Vanity caught sight of the little red dress and sheer stockings. Melinda sat down, and the hemline rose, revealing more of her legs. Full breasts, despite her slender size, nearly spilled over the dress’s neckline.

  From what Melinda had said, Vanity understood the seriousness of their intended discussion. She didn’t need to be there. While they talked, Vanity hurried upstairs and threw her clothes on. She strode back down and headed for the door. With her hand on the knob, she expected Owen to call out to her, but his focus remained on Melinda. She didn’t blame him and left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

  At her aunt’s house, Vanity let herself inside and spared the blinking tree lights no more than a glance. The lights, the stockings, all the decorations, annoyed her and reminded her that she should not have come. She hurried down the hall to her room and shut out the world after falling into bed. By four the next afternoon, she had heard nothing from Owen and figured what they enjoyed had come to an expected end.

  * * * *

  Vanity left her room late a few days later and hesitated when she picked up the deep timbre of Owen’s voice. She didn’t know if she wanted to face him or let things go as they were. If he wanted to speak to her, he no doubt would have come looking for her or called at least.

  She turned to go back into her room, but something he said caught her attention. Pain like she never expected sealed her to the spot, and tears sprang to her eyes.

  “I’ve made my decision. I’m going to Chicago.”

  The words resounded with cruelty in her head. Vanity didn’t want to believe she’d heard right. Owen didn’t even want to discuss the matter. He didn’t think she merited talking to about it. Not that she didn’t understand. If she had a child, and his father wanted to take him away, she would either move the earth to keep her baby, or go wherever he was. Owen had it worse, to feel he didn’t know if his rights were real or could be snatched away at any moment. While she got all that, she blamed him too. If he was half the man she thought he was, he would get on solid ground, such as knowing he fathered Jamie, and then he would fight. She needed to go. Why oh why couldn’t she have figured all that out before she fell in love with him?

  I can at least admit that much. I love him.

  She returned to her bedroom and shut the door. When her aunt came to tell her Owen was there, she made the excuse that she wasn’t feeling well and refused to come out. After a few hours passed, she listened at her door and discovered him gone. Vanity packed her things. The sooner she got on the road, the better.

  She found her aunt in the kitchen. “Aunt Ella, I have to leave earlier than expected. I have some work I need to get done. I had a great time, and thanks for having me.”

  “Darling,” her aunt exclaimed, rising from the table where she sipped hot cocoa. “You’re leaving so suddenly? Have you talked to Owen?”

  “Uh…” She hated lying about leaving in the first place and didn’t care to add to it regarding Owen. “We had fun together, but it was nothing serious. We had an understanding. I have to go.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Aunt Ella.”

  The older woman offered her a sad smile and drew Vanity into a hug. She kissed Vanity’s cheek and leaned away to pull money from her bra. “Here, take this.”

  Vanity cringed. “Aunt Ella, that’s not necessary.”

  “Take it!” She pressed the bills into Vanity’s hand and closed her fingers around it. “I always dreamed you would learn to trust others, including me. I think you know I love you, but you don’t lean on that love when you need it most. It breaks my heart because you could have so much more in life, Vanity.”

  “I have all I need, Aunt Ella.”

  Her aunt waved a finger at her. “You have what money can buy. You don’t have love, not like you deserve it. I know your parents almost broke you with the way they treated you as a child, but you were strong, and you overcame it—the physical part. The heart is a different matter. Stay a little longer, darling. Let me call Owen.”

  Vanity gritted her teeth. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

  Somehow she extricated herself from her aunt’s hold and loaded up her car with her bag and the gifts she received. The entire time, tension lined her shoulders because she worried that any second Owen would pull into his driveway. For the moment, she was grateful he wasn’t home. At last, she backed out of her aunt’s drive and headed down the street. Soon, Charlotte, North Carolina would be left behind, and she would get back to her regular life. Owen Chase would slide into a distant memory, and the ache in her chest would heal.

  * * * *

  The day wore on as Vanity drove north. She checked her phone every other minute it seemed. Owen called, but she let it go to voice mail. Her display said she’d received five messages, and the little bell told her she had text messages, which she refused to read. Instead, she pressed her foot a little harder on the accelerator and sped down the highway.

  North Carolina gave way to Virginia, and with it wetter weather. Vanity flipped her windshield wipers on to cut through the falling slow. She bit her lip peering through the window, hoping things wouldn’t turn bad. To check expected conditions, something she should have done before leaving, she turned on the radio. A familiar voice she recognized but couldn’t put her finger on sang out, “C
hestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose…”

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter, and the constriction in her chest grew worse. The world seemed bent on bringing him to mind, reinforcing the memories they made over the last couple of weeks—especially the times when he held her. He and Aunt Ella both told her she needed to trust, and she knew that. In her head, she didn’t deny it, but in the real world, her experience had taught her different.

  At her age, she should have woken up to the fact that a person should not let the past dictate who they were in the present. Arguing over the next half hour got her nowhere, and Owen’s face refused to leave her head. The wet streets turned a bit slippery. Her cell phone rang once again, and this time, she pulled into a rest area to answer.

  Sucking in a deep breath, she punched the connect button. “Hello?”

  “Vanity!” The relief in Owen’s tone startled her.

  “Hey, Owen.”

  “What do you mean, ‘hey’?” Now the irritation crept in. “I was worried about you. You left without a word and didn’t answer the phone. The weather report isn’t good where you’re headed… We had something good started. Why did you leave?”

  Temptation to complain that he didn’t even try to call her for two days kept her silent. She worked to calm down and find reason. “I couldn’t stay forever. I’m due back at work.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying.” Her patience snapped. “Who the hell do you think you are? I didn’t make any promises.”

  He said nothing.

  “Owen, look, I’m sorry. I—”

  “Is this what you want?”

  “What?”

  “Answer me, Vanity. Is this really what you want? To go back to Baltimore alone, to never see me again? Because I for one am not willing to let you go. That’s why I’m headed up I-85 now when I should have been making plans to fly out to Chicago.”