by Kira Blakely
“I did that because I didn’t want to spoil anything. I wanted a shot at an ordinary relationship with you. I was trying to get away from who I am, but now I know it was wrong. I should have been honest with you from the beginning,” he said, coming closer to me. His voice sounded hoarse and guttural. His eyes had narrowed and his face had darkened as he focused on me. I wanted him to touch me, but I didn’t want to make the first move. I didn’t want to break my resolve, but I knew that if he touched me I would melt. I would give in.
“So, you were using me to experience a small-town ordinary life, as you put it?” I snapped, and he shook his head silently.
“I wasn’t using you, Gemma. I hadn’t planned on it. But when I met you, I didn’t want any of the LA nonsense to ruin the connection we had,” he continued in that same quiet calm voice. He had come up very close to me now, and I had to crane my neck to look up at his face.
“And what about those rumors? They can’t all be false,” I said in a meek defeated voice. I knew that it was over. Whatever anger I had felt toward him had all been washed away. All he had to do was turn up.
“No, they’re not,” he said and my heart stopped for a second, “I led a frivolous life. I couldn’t commit to one woman.”
I could feel my cheeks burning up; my eyelids had grown heavy, I could barely continue to look into his eyes anymore. I was going to buckle at my knees and simply fall into his arms.
“What about your engagement?” I said in a small voice that was choking up.
He shook his head. “Those are just rumors. I’m not engaged. Whatever else I may be, Gemma, I’m a man of my word. I wouldn’t be unfaithful to anyone. I’ve never done that,” he said and now he was standing directly over me.
His breath was falling on my face, making the dark curls on the sides of my cheeks flutter. He was looking down at me with seriousness. The smile had disappeared from his face. We had come so close to losing each other, so quickly. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling as he held my gaze, without making a move to touch me. All I knew was what I was feeling; something I had never felt before. Like I could do anything, that I was capable of absolutely anything.
He placed his large hands on my shoulders in silence. Just his touch was enough. I was already wet between my legs and when he touched me, I felt like I was going to explode.
He spun me around, so that now I was facing the tree trunk. My palms pressed into the coarseness of the trunk and I felt his hand on the back of my head. He was pinning me to the tree. I felt a rush of excitement in my belly, just as I heard him unbuckling his pants.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson for running away from me again,” he said gruffly, sliding his jeans down to his ankles.
Without him asking, I parted my legs, sticking my butt out toward him. He stepped forward, grazing my butt with his erect throbbing cock. He was so hard for me already. How long had he been hard for me?
“Stop running away, Gemma,” he growled again, and encircled my waist with his hands. He was holding me in position, with no preparation this time. He was going to take me in broad daylight, against this tree. And I was all but begging him to.
I could feel the dampness between my legs, and I couldn’t wait any longer. He was stroking my butt with his cock, teasing me, while holding me in place. All he would have to do was lift the shirt…
I felt his hands on my skin. His fingers were searching out my panties. When he found them, he slid them down with one quick flick of his wrist. I moaned, biting down on my lip. I could feel my insides knotting and unknotting with every brush of his cock against my skin.
Now his hands were caressing my butt, slowly, feeling out my flesh… squeezing with his hand.
I had my legs parted already, so when he slid into me, he fit inside me tightly. I gave out a loud groan when I felt him there. He was holding me by my waist, and I was holding the tree for support as he drove into me. He pumped in and out forcefully. Our voices were harsh, and we were both moaning. He grunted with every thrust. He really was teaching me a lesson… only the wrong lesson. I was definitely going to run away more often if he was going to do this to me as punishment!
Within just a few minutes, I knew I was going to come. He reached so deep inside me. With his cock, he stroked that spot that made me come quicker. He felt strong and masculine standing behind me, our bodies stuck together as he made me orgasm.
Something seemed to explode deep inside me. “Luke,” I screamed as I came.
“My name is Vincent,” he growled, as the contractions swept through me. “Say it, Gemma. Say my name.”
He kept pumping into me; he didn’t stop. Instead, he increased his pace so that my body bounced and shook as I had my orgasm.
“Vincent,” I sobbed weakly. “Oh, God, Vincent.”
“Gemma,” he said and I felt him explode inside me, too.
He growled as he came, his grip on my waist tightening. We were both out of control, especially me, because I was going to come again. What was happening?
We orgasmed together, Vincent shooting inside me while I screamed again. My body was soaring, my heart was beating out of my chest; there was no escape.
He remained inside me for a few moments longer, draining himself into me completely. When he started pulling himself out of me, I threw myself against the tree trunk, completely spent.
I could barely move a muscle. Orgasming twice, consecutively, was exhausting, although I had a wide smile on my face. It was like every time we had sex, Vincent made me experience something new. Something I didn’t even know my body was capable of.
He was pulling up his pants as I remained leaning against the tree trunk.
“Ready for a nap?” he asked with a laugh, and I finally turned to look at him. I couldn’t stop smiling, and I also couldn’t keep my eyes open.
“I’m hungry,” I said lazily, letting my eyes drift shut. Suddenly, I felt Vincent’s hands on my hips again. Only this time, he was lifting me up in the air.
I yelped in surprise as my feet left the ground and then he threw me over his right shoulder and started walking. My yelps turned into loud laughter as he continued walking toward his parked car.
“Put me down! No, put me down!” I yelled, while lightly punching his back with my fists. We were both laughing by now. My black curls fell in a cascade as he held me, my head turned over. I was flailing my legs in front of his face, but Vincent had me pinned to him.
“I’ll put you down when we get to the cabin. You’re a serious flight risk,” he said with a laugh, carrying me past the car… carrying me like that all the way back to his cabin.
I was literally flying.
Chapter 17
Gemma
I switched my phone on discreetly, while sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. Vincent was frying eggs in front of me, looking up from time to time with a smile. My phone buzzed in my hand from the texts that came pouring in.
“Sounds like you’ve been missed,” he said with a laugh, raising an eyebrow at me. He still had no clue about my parents, the trailer we lived in, or my living situation. I blushed and put my phone on silent. All the texts were from my parents of course, mostly Mom.
Where are you Gemma?
You better come home right away!
When will you be home?
Why did you hang up on me?
What will you do about your job?
“Everything all right?” Vincent asked, popping bread into a fancy-looking toaster. I only nodded my head as I gripped my phone tightly in my hand. This was not the time to discuss my family with him. Not over breakfast. Not after the morning we had just had. When would be a good time to discuss it anyway? I gulped and started typing a text.
Not coming home today. I don’t want to think about my damn job. Big Mike is an asshole, I wrote it and sent it off. I switched off my phone again for good measure and looked up at Vincent with a beaming smile.
“All good?” he asked, walking up to me with two plates of fried
eggs, buttered toast and bacon on the side.
“Yeah, just friends wondering what my plans are for the day,” I said, waving a hand at him.
“What are your plans for the day?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat down across from me.
I pulled the plate closer to myself and picked up one of the greasy bacon strips with my fingers.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said, taking a bite.
“Well, my plan is to spend the day with you. If you’re willing to do that, of course,” he said, taking a big bite of his toast. We were smiling at each other coyly. We both knew what my answer to that was going to be. I wasn’t prepared to leave just yet.
“How long are you here for?” I asked him, without answering his question.
Vincent sighed and rubbed a hand on his knee. “A few more days. Until the end of the week, but let’s not talk about that right now,” he said, the smile disappearing from his face. I wasn’t smiling either. The thought of him leaving, of all this coming to an end, sent a knife through my heart. I could feel it there, twisting in my chest.
“Tell me about your life here,” he added quickly, and I refused to meet his eyes.
“There’s nothing much to tell. I go to work, or I used to go to work. I attend classes in the evening. I study and go to bed. Same story next day,” I said, cutting a piece of the egg. The yolk was runny and spilled out all over the spotless white plate. At home, I would have swept it up with the toast, but in front of Vincent I wasn’t so sure. I was still self-conscious of my mannerisms. What was the right thing to do?
“Sounds simple enough,” he said. Those deep dimples on his cheeks looked delicious enough to eat.
“What about your life in LA? What is that like?” I asked, sitting back in my chair. Vincent was smooth and sophisticated with his food, carefully and slowly chewing it. There was no spillage and no mess on his plate.
“Busy. Pressurized. I’ve been working non-stop for two years to get the cure out into the market,” he replied and our eyes met. “I was surprised that you had even heard of me,” he added with a smile.
I raised an eyebrow and tilted my head at him.
“Did you think we are that cut-off here?” I asked and he laughed.
“No, of course not, I just mean that my line of work is boring,” he said. Although I was sure that some others who read those gossip magazines often would know him, his personal life wasn’t boring in the least, but I kept that to myself. There was no reason to bring that up again.
Vincent got up to pour us two glasses of orange juice.
“Don’t you have to meet with your employees or something? I thought this was more of a business trip,” I asked, following his every movement with my eyes. It was still hard to believe that I was in this place, sharing breakfast with Vincent Stoltz. There were so many questions I had for him, so much praise to give him… I had admired his work for several years. But with him in the room, all I could think about was how hot he looked and how he wrecked my body and mind.
“I did, but I’ve cancelled the meetings. They can keep themselves entertained. I have better things to do today than give tiresome presentations,” he said with a laugh. “I also had your car fixed, so we can pick it up whenever you want.”
I pushed my plate away and narrowed my eyes on the handsome man in front of me.
“Not hungry anymore?” he asked, still chewing on his food. The runny yolks and bits of bacon remained on my plate. It wasn’t that I wasn’t hungry, and I was just too self-conscious of how I was eating the food. I decided not to argue with him about fixing my car.
“No, but the food was delicious, don’t get me wrong,” I said and sipped on the orange juice instead.
“You’re right,” he said, wiping the sides of his mouth with a white napkin. “I’m not hungry either. Let’s find something else to do.”
Chapter 18
Vincent
It was evening now and Gemma was on her back, with her bare legs open as I slid my face down to her knees. The fireplace was lit, and the flames caught the smokiness in her eyes. She lifted her head to look at me and then gently put it down again on the carpeted floor.
Half a glass of wine dangled from her hand, and she took another long sip. I licked the inside of her thigh, where her skin was the softest to touch. She purred and swirled the glass around in her hand.
“You went to Yale,” she murmured softly as I licked the other thigh. She tasted like honey and peaches, a sweet delicious taste that tingled my taste buds. The scratches on her knee from the thorns she had run through in the morning had turned into bright pink scabs now, and I caressed them.
“I did, indeed,” I said, meeting her glazed-over eyes. She drank some more wine and I watched as her reddened lips stretched to a smile.
“I can’t even imagine that. What it would be like to go to a school like that,” she said, moving her hips. I traced the shape of her legs with my fingers, before settling my hand on her exposed belly. She was still in my shirt that she had put on in the morning. She was floating in it; it was too big for her. But she insisted that she was comfortable when I offered her a change of clothing.
“It was all right; I made some friends for life,” I said, as I stroked her tight belly. She was beautiful to touch, to have in my arms. Her hair was spread around her face in rich dark curls. She was the most awe-inspiring thing I had ever set my eyes on. I wanted to bite into those lips.
Gemma laughed when she heard me say that about my friends. Her laughter was becoming more and more common to hear now. Her hardened demeanor from the previous days was softening. Either way, she was just as beautiful and mysterious. Despite all this time we were spending together, she was still a puzzle to me.
“I’m sure it was more than friends you made at Yale, Vincent. I’m sure your college has something to do with your success, too,” she said, laughing still. Every time she smiled, she sent shivers down my spine. Her laughter was infectious, genuine and humble. I felt like I could be completely honest with her.
I regretted not being honest with her sooner. I should have known better. Gemma Ramsey wasn’t like any other woman I knew, and I should have treated her differently from the beginning. But I was grateful that she was trusting me again.
“Yes, look at where I am now. I have you naked under me, and all we’re doing is talking,” I said and tickled her belly. Gemma giggled, and I pinned her down with a hand. I felt her legs squeeze around me as I slipped down farther between them so that her sex was in front of my face now.
She was so wet for me, dripping wet with no panties to act as an obstruction between my tongue and where I wanted to reach.
She wriggled as I held her tight and brought my face closer to her. Gemma was moaning already, moving her hips in anticipation as I stuck out my tongue, growing closer and closer to her wetness. When I licked her, she arched herself up, closing her eyes.
I licked her again, delicately, just to tease. The glass of wine fell from her hands and it spilled all over the carpet.
“Shhh… don’t worry about it,” I said when I saw her eyes fly open with guilt.
I pinned her back down and this time thrust my tongue deep into her. Gemma moaned, wriggling under my grip.
“Vincent …” She said my name like it was a song, and I thrust in deeper. I knew where I had to stroke her to make her come, and I found it easily with my tongue. I used one hand to stroke her clit, while I kept pushing my tongue into her as far as I could. Gemma was shaking, spreading her legs wide apart for me now so that I could truly and completely consume her.
She tasted as delicious as I had predicted and I wanted to be inside her completely, make her come. I wanted to possess her, and never had I wanted someone else to feel this good. My priority was to make her have an orgasm, have multiple orgasms. Watching her writhe and scream with pleasure made me rock hard. I could come just from watching her.
I pushed my tongue in deeper, keeping my fingers on her clit, playing with it
.
When I felt her weave her fingers into my hair, I knew it was time. She came instantly, and I kept driving my tongue in, just like my cock had before. She shook as she came, screaming out my name, clutching my hair in her hands tightly.
When her voice died down and her breathing began to subside, I finally slid my tongue out of her. She was spent again, lying on the carpet with her arms spread out around her. She had her eyes open and was staring at the ceiling, breathing hard.
“Why are you smiling, Gemma?” I asked, hauling my body up so I could lie down beside her. She tried to control her breathing first before she turned to me, her cheeks flushed from exhaustion, her eyelids drooping. She was ready to pass out.
“Because I’m happy, Vincent,” she said and I drew her into my arms. She may not have told me much about herself, but one thing I knew about Gemma Ramsey was that she made me happy, too.
Chapter 19
Gemma
I had lost track of time by now; it could be the sun setting or the crack of dawn. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t looking ahead or daydreaming about the future. I was living only in the present.
We were both naked, sitting comfortably in a hot tub in the backyard of the cabin. Vincent was sitting opposite me, and our toes were entwined together under the hot bubbling water. When I looked up, I figured it could be dawn now, because the sky was a curious shade of deep yellow, nearly orange. I could hear birds beginning to chirp somewhere far away.
We had slept on and off in each other’s arms. Vincent had cooked dinner at some point, too, delicious steaks that I had dug into hungrily. Slowly but surely, I was losing my self-consciousness and turning more into myself. Vincent didn’t seem to care or notice. If he had an issue with my table manners, he wasn’t showing it.
It was calming as we sat there, the water bubbling and grazing against my sensitive skin. The bottom of Vincent’s dark wavy hair was damp, and it stuck to the sides of his wide neck. The top half of his torso was above the water level, and he had his arms stretched over the sides of the hot tub. I could see his chiseled muscles in all their wonderful glory. He had mentioned he was a swimmer in college and his body showed it. He had an athlete’s sinewy built.