Blueprint for Love

by Chanta Jefferson Rand

  Or so she’d said.

  And he’d believed her.

  Until she showed up tonight with Vic.

  Allen grunted to himself. The whole night, Ronnie had eyes only for Vic. She’d even left the party with the dude! Mister Tough Guy. All biceps and flashy smiles. What the hell did she see in that guy anyway? If Vic Romano was supposed to be some kind of competition, the fool had another thing coming. There was no contest between the two.

  Allen might not be as good looking, but he considered himself far more superior to Vic in every way.

  What Allen lacked in physical ability, he more than made up for in mental aptitude. He had an IQ of 140. That made him a genius in most people’s minds. He could figure out a solution long before others even knew there was a problem. He was a shrewd businessman too. He was a silent partner, who owned a handful of subcontractors. He’d sacrificed blood, sweat, and tears to escape his poverty-ridden beginnings and make a name for himself. He’d worked his ass off to make his companies successful—by any means necessary.

  His only setback was that he wasn’t a woman. It was crazy, but in today’s world of Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action, white male-owned businesses were losing ground to women and minorities. He’d lost countless contractor bids, including some lucrative ones, to Three Sisters. But all that would change when he married Ronnie. He’d be a part of her world, and thus, closer than ever to that piece of the construction pie.

  “What do you like about her?” His brother’s voice cut into his thoughts.

  Allen turned to his pathetic kin. He could smell the whiskey oozing from Kent’s pores. Too bad the genius gene didn’t extend to other members of the family. Whereas Allen was the brainiac, his brother, Kent was a freakin’ drunken idiot. In high school, he was voted most likely to fail miserably and piss everyone else off in the process.

  Allen sat in a leather chair across from his brother in his condo in an upscale Miami neighborhood. Kent pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and guzzled liberally. Kent could drink a fifth of liquor in a couple of hours.

  “I don’t know, Kent. Don’t ask me that.”

  “Ronnie is pretty. I’ll give you that. But Marlowe is hotter.”

  “Don’t you even think about Marlowe,” Allen warned.

  “Why not? We could both marry into the family.” Kent chortled. “Have a double wedding.”

  “Marlowe wouldn’t give you the time of day. And Ronnie hasn’t agreed to marry me yet.”

  “Yeah, right. You’re such a scaredy-cat, you can’t even get up the nuts to ask her.”

  “Things like this take time.”

  “Nah, you’re just chicken shit. Admit it. Always have been. What she needs is a real man’s touch.”

  “Shut up. I’m warning you.”

  “I think I’ll hook up with Marlowe. Better yet, let me have Ronnie. Show her what she’s been missing.”

  “Don’t go messing this up for me, boy. You don’t want to tangle with me.”

  “What’s it been? Five, six years since her man died? I bet she’s real lonely.”

  Kent stood and rubbed his crotch for emphasis. “Yeah, Bro. I wouldn’t mind tapping that a—”

  Allen sprang from his chair and tackled his brother to the floor. He pushed his forearm against Kent’s throat, cutting off his oxygen.

  “Damn,” Kent sputtered.

  “Don’t make me hurt you, fool. Stick to the plan!”

  “Okay,” Kent relented. “Simmer down.”

  Allen loosened the pressure on Kent’s windpipe. “I’ll simmer down, when you wise up. I’m telling you again, don’t screw this up for us like you did last time.” Allen had the advantage right now. He was younger and sober. But if Kent weren’t liquored up, he could be dangerous—just like his alcoholic father. Allen would never forget that cruel son-of-a-bitch.

  “Why you gotta body slam me? All riled up over that woman.”

  Allen stood. His chest heaved up and down. “I’m getting too old for this shit, Kent. This could be my last chance. And if it’s my last, it’s certainly yours.”

  “Sorry, dude. Chill out.” Kent rubbed his throat and fumbled for his flask.

  Allen knew Kent understood what they were up against. His brother had ridden Allen’s coattails all his life. Even after a dishonorable discharge from the military, no one would hire his sorry ass. Allen had to take care of him, like an invalid. And now it seemed, his older brother couldn’t even keep the job Allen bought for him on Ronnie’s crew. Good thing the two of them had different last names—courtesy of their whorish mother. No one could connect them.

  Allen sat back down. This subterfuge wouldn’t last long. Each day, he was getting closer to the prize.

  Closer to making Veronica Jones his woman.

  Closer to completing his master plan.

  NINE

  Vic stood in the shower enjoying the hot needles of water pelting his skin. After a long day at work on the site, it felt good to finally relax. Thankfully, the small trailer on the site contained not only a mobile office, but a toilet, a shower, and a lumpy sofa too. Whoever designed it, must have had a history of putting in long hours on the jobsite.

  Vic took advantage of the facilities to get cleaned up before meeting Andrea. As crew leader, he had keys to all of the buildings on the site. Funny how in just six short weeks, he’d gone from being Public Enemy Number One in Ronnie’s office to being the head crew leader on one of Three Sisters’ most important projects. He smiled as he thought about her. It had been a week since they’d spoken. A week since he’d practically ravished her on a public bench.

  Vic shook his head. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. One moment, he was eating ice cream. The next, he was lip-locked with Ronnie. He couldn’t lie. Kissing those luscious lips was something he’d wanted to do for a long time now. Last Saturday, he couldn’t stop himself. Nor did he want to. The woman had no business putting her fingers so close to his mouth. The seductive way she’d caressed his top lip was too much temptation for him. And even though she’d abruptly ended the date after the old couple caught them making out, he wasn’t sorry. Vic didn’t regret his actions one bit.

  He turned off the water, grabbed a folded towel from the back of the commode, and wrapped it around his midsection. He had an hour to get across town to pick up Andrea. His sister told him how much she enjoyed their outings. His mom never let her go anywhere since ‘the incident’. That was how Maria referred to it. Andrea was a prisoner in her own home. Vic knew the feeling. He hated being caged like an animal. He never wanted Andrea to feel that way. That’s why he took her out as much as possible. Vic guessed in her own way, Maria was trying to make up for being such a horrible mother.

  Before Andrea’s birth, she’d neglected him and his father, staying out until all hours of the night. Gambling away the mortgage payment. Drinking heavily. It seemed no matter what Vic’s father did, his mother could never be happy.

  When she started using what she called recreational cocaine, Vic’s father tried to put her in rehab, but she assured him she had control of her new habit. The last straw was when Maria ended up pregnant by another man. His father filed for divorce. It was the ultimate betrayal. The fifty-two year old accountant didn’t feel like fighting for an ungrateful PTA mom he’d fallen out of love with. Unfortunately, Vic’s father’s rejection of his mother was also a rejection of him. The man wanted nothing to do with either of them.

  When Andrea was born deaf, Maria swore it was God’s way of punishing her. She never took another drink or snorted another line after that. But the damage was done. Vic suffered because of his parents’ indifference toward him. He developed a short fuse. He would fight anyone, anywhere. Even as he grew into adulthood, he fought to control his constant anger. That anger proved to be his undoing. His father passed away last year. Vic was in prison and couldn’t attend the funeral. Now, their unresolved issues would never be addressed.

  Vic walked barefoot from the bathroom to the o
ffice. Steam fogged up the tiny room. After hours, the window unit of the A/C was shut off. He flipped the switch on a metal fan perched on a nearby desk. He put his face in front of the metal blades, letting warm gusts of air blow at him. Much better. When he reached for the pants he’d left discarded on a chair, the hem of his towel got hooked on the fan’s cord. The metal fan crashed to the ground with enough noise to wake the dead.

  Shit!

  Made a hell of a lot of noise, but at least it hadn’t broken. He unplugged the fan and picked up the bent metal face. They didn’t make these old school fans anymore. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to replace it.

  Ronnie froze when she heard the noise inside the trailer. She’d decided to stop by the site and take a look at the progress the men were making. She hadn’t gotten out much in the past week. When she drove past the mobile office, and saw a light on, but no cars parked outside, she figured somebody must be breaking in. Didn’t the fool know they didn’t keep any money in there? She’d heard of robberies at construction sites. Petty thieves looking for supplies, lumber, and other stuff.

  She pulled her stun gun from her purse and flicked the setting to stun. She probably should call 9-1-1. But the guy inside might hear her. At least she assumed it was a ‘he.’ Women didn’t rob construction sites, did they? Whoever it was, would be in for a surprise. Nobody stole from the Jones family. She and her sisters worked too hard for this business. She wasn’t about to let some criminal take anything of theirs!

  Not thinking, she jerked the door open and shoved the stun gun at a man who loomed in the doorway. The electric blue spark of the gun snapped and crackled in the air, hitting him in the middle of his bare chest.

  “Aahh!” the man yelled.

  Ronnie slapped a palm over her gaped mouth when she realized who her victim was.

  Vic!

  He staggered backward. It was then that Ronnie noticed his state of undress. He was naked, except for a fluffy, white towel unraveling at his waist, slipping dangerously low. Her heart slammed in her chest. Vic’s bare chiseled chest held her eyes captive. Lord, but he was gorgeous. So many muscles! Her gaze roamed the top of his sculpted shoulders past his six-pack, down toward his ripped thighs and sinewy calves. She repeated the motion, just in case she’d missed anything. She was torn between helping him and covering her eyes. If he moved another inch, that towel was coming off. She’d get to see everything Mother Nature had given him.

  At the last moment, Vic gripped the terry cloth tight and tucked a loose end into a snug opening near one of his obliques.

  He rubbed a red spot near one of his pectoral muscles. Then, he gritted through his teeth, “What are you doing here, woman? You coulda killed me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”

  Ronnie couldn’t keep her eyes off his bronzed skin. He smelled of aftershave and soap. Freshly washed. His damp hair hung to his shoulders. The effect was primal, sending a rush of heat between her legs.

  “How was I to know you were here?” she continued. “There were no cars out front.”

  “I parked my Explorer in back.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why’d you come rushing in like a banshee?”

  “I heard a noise. I thought someone was breaking in.”

  His green eyes narrowed. “So you were just gonna confront the intruder? With a stun gun?”

  “Yes. I realize now it was foolish.”

  “Foolish is an understatement, woman. I’ll give you points for bravery, but you coulda been seriously hurt. What would you have done if someone had turned that gun on you?”

  “I said it was foolish.”

  “More like stupid. Promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again.”

  Her eyes kept wandering down to the towel. “Yes,” she finally answered.

  Vic smirked. “See something you like, Ronnie?”

  She didn’t trust herself to speak.

  In one swift movement, Vic backed her into a corner, trapping her between his half-naked body and the wall. His nearness was overwhelming. She placed her hands on his chest, trying to put distance between them. It was a mistake. The minute her fingertips touched the solid wall of muscle, her hands absently caressed one of his flat nipples.

  Without warning, Vic grabbed her wrists and pulled her against his chest.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Giving you what you want.”

  Her heartbeat hadn’t slowed since she’d burst through the door two minutes ago. She’d attacked him with a stun gun, but here Vic was, ready to fulfill her every desire.

  “Tell me you don’t want this, Ronnie, and I’ll stop. Right now.”

  Her mouth parted, but no sound came out. She couldn’t think with Vic so close to her. His manly scent filled her nostrils. His minty breath fanned her cheek. Yes, she wanted it. She wanted it so bad she could taste it.

  Taking her silence for acquiesce, Vic’s mouth descended on hers.

  The word heavenly came to mind. Vic started out with soft strokes, but it didn’t take him long to ravish her mouth. His tongue pulled and sucked hers, making her whimper beneath his touch. She melted into his embrace as his tongue invaded every corner, every crevice, and every fold of her mouth. Heat flooded her from head to toe and back again, setting the space between her legs on fire. Dear God, she should have never stoked the flames of this fire. What started out as a spark of attraction had erupted into an inferno!

  Vic was lost in Ronnie’s hot kisses. The more he plundered, the more he fell victim to her spell. She was all-feminine, the way a woman should be. He dragged his mouth from hers and trailed kisses along her neck and collarbone. A coil of raw emotion slowly winded in the pit of his belly. Ronnie had him so hot, he couldn’t think straight.

  He fumbled with the tiny pearl buttons holding her red silk blouse together. His thumbs were too large to be bothered with this shit. Frustrated, he ripped the delicate material, sending the buttons scattering to the floor. Ronnie’s surprised yelp turned him on. His cock swelled at the sight of her lush breasts. He bent his head and greedily sucked a dark nipple through the white lacey bra she wore. The bud hardened in his mouth. He rolled it between his tongue and teeth, savoring the taste and texture.

  Ronnie writhed beneath him as he generously devoured one breast then the next, lavishing them with equal attention. Her tiny gasps floated through the air as she clung to him for support. He didn’t mind when her short nails dug into his shoulder blades. The pain was pleasurable, sending jolts of excitement through him.

  So, the Ice Queen could be melted after all.

  Vic steered her to a nearby wall and pressed the hard lines of his body against her lush curves. His erection bucked against her. He hiked up her skirt and pressed the throbbing head of his dick against the thin barrier of her lace panties. He grinded against her and pulled on her earlobe with his tongue.

  Her moans filled the air. “Oh God. Oh God,” she purred.

  “You like that, baby?” he teased through nibbles.

  “Yes!”

  “You want more?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want me inside you? Just say the word. Say it.”

  “I want you inside me.”

  Vic’s heart raced. She wanted him. Ronnie Jones wanted him. “Beg me,” he ordered. “Beg me to fuck you, Ronnie.”

  She dug her nails into the tops of his shoulders. “Please, Vic,” she pled. “I want you so bad.”

  He wanted her too. So bad it was almost painful. If he didn’t get inside now, he was gonna burst from all this pressure!

  He pulled her panties to the side and prepared to thrust.

  “Wait!” she screeched. “Condom. Hurry.”

  He froze. Shit! It had been too long since he’d been with a woman. He’d forgotten to prepare. He didn’t have anything.

  Damn! How could the absence of a tiny piece of latex rain on his parade?

  He pulled away. He wasn’t riding bareback, not
even if Ronnie wanted it. That was one thing neither of them needed. He refused to make a baby out of wedlock, the way some deadbeat had done with his mother.

  Vic’s heart dropped when he saw the confused look on Ronnie’s face. He couldn’t bear to have her disappointed in him. He wanted nothing more than to sate both of their appetites, thrust his rock-hard dick deep inside her wet pussy. Without protection, it wasn’t happening. But he wouldn’t leave her aching for more. He’d send her away with a present she’d never forget. If she couldn’t have the entrée, he’d damn sure give her the dessert.

  Ronnie gazed down at the top of Vic’s thick head of hair as he dropped to his knees and nibbled his way in a southern direction. He tugged at the button on the back of her skirt, and in seconds had her unzipped and her white lace underwear exposed. She wriggled out of her skirt, happy to shed the offending material. Anything to be closer to Vic’s lips.

  He lovingly pressed kisses against the fabric, taking his time, saturating the lace and the swollen lips that lay beneath.

  “Oh, Vic,” she moaned.

  Taking his cue, Vic pulled her panties down, revealing the black curls that had just been waxed yesterday into a dark landing strip. Her heartbeat ricocheted as she watched his eyes take in the view. For a half a second, she felt embarrassed having a man’s face in her crotch. What would he think of her body?

  “Beautiful,” he said, reading her mind.

  He pushed the intricate, white lace panties past her knees to pool at her ankles. Ronnie held her breath as the pink tip of Vic’s tongue flicked toward her. When he licked the tender flesh between her legs, her knees damn near buckled. The pleasure was too much. She heard her own raw, guttural groan escape her throat.