Debauched in Diamonds

by Nikki Duncan

  She nibble-kissed his lobe, inhaling the fading scent of cologne. “Can we go with the pros of the short wait?”

  “You drive a hard bargain.” Using the power of his grip on her backside, he repositioned and lowered her onto his length.

  Her body sighed with contentment on her exhale. On the inhale all contentment was blasted away by devouring desire. “You seem to be the one driving the hard bargain.”

  “No pun intended?”

  “It was intended, though I wouldn’t mind a harder drive.”

  He was laughing as he lifted and lowered her again. Slowly at first, he repeated the move, allowing her to sink deeper each time. After several teasing rounds, he picked up the pace, lowering her faster after each time he raised her.

  As the heat spread, suffusing her entire body and bubbling in her veins, she used the leverage of her feet on the couch to increase the power of the move. She angled her hips for a deeper thrust.

  Victor’s shoulder muscles bunched and released beneath her hands. His fingers dug into her ass cheeks. The slight pain that would probably bruise enhanced the height of her pleasure with the awakening of more nerves.

  Her blood rushed. Her heart slammed. Her head buzzed. Her body gripped his, dreading each withdrawal the closer she came to the pinnacle of release.

  As he lowered her again, she dropped her head to his shoulder and hollowed out her chest, curling her back. The move had her sinking lower, so low his engorged tip pressed her g-spot.

  Darci’s orgasm ripped through her, tightening her core and lower back. Victor tensed beneath her, stilled. The veins and corded muscles in his neck and shoulders popped. His body shook and then he was lowering them to the couch so she was straddling him.

  She sank against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and waited for the trembling to subside. A drop of sweat landed on her shoulder when he rested his head against hers.

  For several minutes they sat in silence. The first movement outside of the occasional finger stroke was his laughter, rumbling beneath her.

  “Something funny?” she asked against his neck.

  “Nothing. Everything.”

  She should move. Get up and dress and let him get back to work, but she felt entirely too decadent to make the effort.

  “Logical,” she mumbled against him.

  He smoothed her hair back and eased her head away, looking into her eyes. “I was just thinking, I enjoy working here, but I’ve never enjoyed the place more.”

  “I’ll admit I can’t remember the last time sex was that fun.”

  “Aside from the one time in a car, I’ve always found a bed.”

  “A traditionalist lies beneath your inner geek. And speaking of your inner geek, I should let you get back to work.” Her spine popped as she stood, stepping back when she lost her balance for a moment. Even the tension in that hard-to-reach spot between her shoulder blades had released.

  “For some reason I’m finding the desire to keep working has passed.”

  Feeling more relaxed than she did after an hour-long massage, she gathered their clothes from the floor.

  He took his shirt with a funny smile. “I would have pegged you as a cuddler, Darci.”

  She slid her bra and panties on. “As one of those things women see as romance, cuddling isn’t one of our agreed-upon items.”

  “So you do like to cuddle.”

  Slipping into her blouse, she smiled up at him. “That’s not the point.”

  He put his hands on her hips and leaned low, looking deep into her eyes. “For the record, though it wasn’t an agreed-upon term, I wouldn’t be opposed to you sticking around when we’re together.”

  His chest beckoned, calling to her hands, so she gave in and placed her palms against his pecs. Warmth moved into her palms, beneath the skin’s surface. “I’ll remember that when we’re not naked in your office. For now, I’m going to let you get back to work.”

  “I’m not really in the mood to keep working.”

  “I wonder what you might be in the mood for.”

  “Get dressed, let me lock up a few things and I’ll take you home and show you.”

  “Are sleepovers part of our agreement?”

  “As long as we don’t exchange drawers.”

  “I kind of like your drawers.” She smacked his still-bare ass and smiled. She was going to enjoy her time with Victor, but without admitting the indulgence to Lori and Lindy.

  Victor, as it turned out, was a major cuddler. If sprawling across the bed, pinning her to it with an arm and leg could be called cuddling. Still, and it wasn’t something she wanted to think too much about, she’d felt amazing when she crawled out from under him at 5:00 a.m. on Monday morning.

  In the parking lot, he drove by her with the smallest rise of his fingers from the steering wheel in a wave. Her smile came automatically but she didn’t stop to wait for him. He wouldn’t expect her to since they’d agreed to not advertise their arrangement, mainly to irritate Lindy and Lori who wouldn’t be satisfied with the limits they’d agreed to.

  If Lori or Lindy found her out she’d simply claim she could never be with Victor, who, for all his great qualities, was an impressive slob. Anyone who’d known her for two minutes would know she could never tolerate that in the long run. No. She’d lived a life full of messes. Organization was a necessity.

  “Good morning, Darci.” Tabatha greeted her at the double doors to Tulle and Tulips.

  “Tabatha.” Darci nodded at the bold blue blouse and white pencil skirt that ended just below Tabatha’s knees. “New outfit?”

  “I did a little shopping last night. What did you do?” She cocked her head as a slow smile blossomed on her curved lips. “Or should I say who?”

  “You really do see sex everywhere.”

  “It’s one of my favorite things.”

  Darci opened the door and moved inside. “Then go get your next partner and stop inventing imaginary ones for me.”

  Escaping whatever else Tabatha would suggest, or the feeding frenzy of her other friends if they suspected she’d started something with Victor, hell, any man, Darci moved purposefully toward her office.

  “Lie to me all you want,” Tabatha said as she headed to her own office next door. “You’re different today.”

  Darci stopped just outside her door. “Tabatha, that’s called sleep. I actually got some.”

  “If that’s really all it is then I’m sorry for you.”

  Tabatha swept into her office with the typical swish of her hips. Darci turned to hers, pausing when Victor walked by in the hall outside Tulle and Tulips. She hadn’t left his apartment all weekend, and a part of her was ready to return.

  He’d been tousled sexy while he’d been sleeping. Dressed in a tailored suit and tie he was professional sexy. The polish didn’t quite manage to hide the side of him she now knew to be the real Victor when he sent a smile her way.

  With the smallest of smiles in return she moved into her office, already looking forward to the next time she saw him.

  When she booted up her computer, she was greeted by a pop-up message that could only be from Victor, though she wasn’t sure when he’d have programmed it.

  Thanks for a great weekend. Repeat tonight?

  Chapter Six

  Victor rubbed his eyes as he headed to the kitchen for a drink refill. The gray countertops had been cleared of take-out containers. The sink full of dishes was now empty. A trash bag, stuffed until it was bulging, sat near the door.

  Darci, in jeans and a T-shirt, still wore her diamond tie necklace as she scrubbed the counter. In the four weeks since they’d made their arrangement he hadn’t seen her without it once. Even during sex. It was damn sexy.

  “Darci, why are you cleaning my kitchen?”

  “Because it needs it.”

  He set his glass on the counter and put a hand on hers, stopping her scrubbing. “I didn’t ask you over so you’d clean.”

  “I guess you can consider this a side be
nefit of our deal.”

  “It’s because I got on the computer.” He turned her to face him. “I should have warned you to keep me away from the keyboard.”

  She placed a hand on his waist, a gesture she made often when they were alone. “You said you had to fix something for work.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Maybe an hour?”

  “God. I’m a horrible host.”

  “I’d have left if a bride called, and I don’t mind cleaning. Sometimes.” She rested her other hand on his waist, dipping her fingers into his waistband. “Though if you feel bad you can make it up to me.”

  “I did get the immediate issue cleaned up.” He mirrored her stance and dipped the tips of his fingers into the waistband of her pants. “Should we go see what we can come up with?”

  “Go where? We’re in the cleanest room in the place.”

  “You have a real thing about messes, don’t you?”

  “It’s more a general distaste of chaos.”

  The tightness in her tone awakened his curiosity. Darci defined what people expected to see in a woman who had her life together. She was honest, easy to be around and well adjusted. Occasionally, though, she offered the smallest glimpse into what really made her tick.

  “What was the most chaotic time in your life?”

  “It’s a toss up, but I think ending my engagement less than a month before the wedding is edged out by my grandfather’s death. Grandma didn’t cope well.” Her fingers trembled at his waist. “She still isn’t.”

  “Was it you or your mom who stepped in to help her?”

  “We all tried. Grandma moved in with us, but she wasn’t the same. She was…broken. There are moments when we see the old her, but they’re fewer and farther between these days.”

  “So in the areas of life you have control over you need order.”

  “I’ve never actively thought it all out.” She shrugged. “But it makes sense. I didn’t mean to impose my neurosis on you.”

  Her kindness, the depths of it, was the one thing that kept him from writing off all people. “I don’t mind when things around me are clean. I just get busy and don’t think to take the time to do it for myself.”

  “Clearly. You need a full-time housekeeper.”

  “Katie keeps me in line at work.” He tugged the hem of her T-shirt free of her pants. “But I don’t expect you to do the same for me here.”

  “Sorry. I get twitchy.”

  “Don’t apologize.” He kissed her neck, the spot right below her ear. “And don’t clean anything else.”

  Darci turned her face and kissed his collarbone. “Does this mean you’re finished working?”

  “I’m all yours. Do with me what you will.”

  “Anything?”

  “Name your fantasy and I’ll fulfill it.”

  Her grin began slowly, but it bloomed bright and mischievous. It was equal parts fun and scary. “Strip cleaning.”

  “Strip what?”

  “Strip cleaning. We divide the apartment into sections and clean it as quick as possible. The loser has to strip something.”

  His own grin bloomed. “You really don’t like messes.”

  “I’m betting you’re naked before me.”

  “Is this your way of forcing change on me?”

  “Victor—” she slid her hands under his shirt, teased the sensitive spots she’d discovered over the last few weeks, “—you’re pretty close to perfect, aside from the messes.”

  “I squeeze toothpaste from the middle of the tube.”

  “I’m not asking to share your toothpaste. I’m asking to share your space when I visit.”

  “And you relax better in a clean space.”

  She paused. “Is that a bad thing?”

  He didn’t like her hesitancy and would do what he could to erase it. He framed her face in his hands and kissed her, stopping short of the polish-the-kitchen-floor-with-sex point. “If you weren’t so nice about it maybe it would be.”

  “Then don’t ask me about your car and never live with me.”

  “I can see why your company would be intolerable for the long haul.” He went into the living room, moving around the large dog bed where Groot snored contentedly. Discarded clothes covered the couch and floor. The quilt his mom had made lay in a wadded mass half on and half off the couch and floor.

  Stripping off his shirt he added it to the pile.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You already cleaned the kitchen, so I guess I’ve lost the first round.” Shaking his head at the take-out containers, beer bottles, magazines and newspapers littering the tables, he figured he’d be taking his pants off soon.

  “Joke all you want. What I accept as clean in other people’s spaces is miles away from my personal space.”

  “That settles it.”

  “What?”

  “We’re gonna clean this place, but our next dinner may have to be at your place. I think I need to see your standards.”

  “Deal.” She nodded toward the mess around the couch. “You clean over there. I’ll clean the half you call an office. Will you be bringing Groot?” she asked as she sat in his chair.

  “You don’t mind me bringing him over?” Victor made a pile of dirty laundry, because nothing in the room was clean, and then grabbed the quilt to fold it.

  “I like dogs. Groot more than most.” Darci sorted papers into piles of bills, receipts and sheets of code she couldn’t read.

  “You’ve seen how he sheds,” Victor pointed out.

  “I have a vacuum.” She smiled as she went about her task.

  She was being easygoing instead of nagging and bitchy, but he still wasn’t thrilled to be cleaning. He prided himself on being his own man without getting wrapped up in the complications that came with women and relationships. That she’d so easily maneuvered him into cleaning, into doing something he never did if he could avoid it, meant she held sway over him. That, more than anything, was worrisome.

  Hoping to learn more about her, he casually said, “Tell me about that broken engagement.”

  “It was a few weeks before my wedding. I came home from a weekend with my mom to find him sneaking one of my cousins out of our apartment. Seems they lost track of time.” She shrugged. “When I confronted him, he said I wasn’t giving him everything he wanted. When I challenged that, he hit me.” She shrugged again, this time a little twitchier. “I left in what I was wearing and never looked back.” Her hand brushed the tie necklace around her neck. “I’ll never be emotionally tied down again.”

  He wanted to ask so many different questions, and a part of him wanted to hunt down the ass who’d hurt her. A nicer part of him, a part that didn’t miss the symbolism of her necklace, let it go when she changed the subject with a nod toward the area he’d just cleaned.

  “That’s a good-looking floor you’ve got there.”

  “I hope you’re not planning on making me mop.” The shudder escaped before he could think about it.

  “Clearly I’ve discovered a great fear of yours.”

  “I choose not to clean up, but I hate to mop.”

  “Well, I think you’re safe.” Darci was chuckling as she opened a filing drawer. “The floor has to be visible before it can get dirty enough to need mopping. Hey, you have real files in here.”

  “Ha. Ha. Lindy did that.” He moved more clothes into the dirty laundry pile. “What is it you hate, Darci? There has to be something.”

  She began filing away the piles she’d created. “Are you asking so you can make me face it?”

  He shrugged. “Are you avoiding the question so you never have to find out?”

  “Not at all. I hate getting dirty. Hard work is okay. A little sweat is okay. But if there is so much sweat and dirt or whatever that I start to smell myself…eeew.”

  “Really?” He scooped up an armful of clothes and headed to the laundry closet off the kitchen. As he went, he said, “I suddenly find my mind filling with all sorts of i
deas to test your boundaries.”

  “As long as they don’t include dirt or bad body odor I’m good.”

  Instead of pointing out that really great sex could result in sweaty smells, and had a couple times with her, he grabbed another wad of laundry and went ahead and started a load. Lindy would have a fit of Hulk-sized proportions when she saw the clean apartment. Then she would catch on to the truth. He’d cleaned his place for a woman. It wouldn’t take her long to figure out which woman.

  With a trash bag in hand, he headed back toward the living room. Darci had finished the desk and was on her knees in front of the shelf he’d gotten for his books and comics. Groot had moved to her side and laid his wide head on her thigh. With one hand she scratched him behind his ears and with the other she sorted Victor’s comics, never touching the books with the hand she rubbed Groot with, never transferring the oils to the comics.

  Like she’d sorted the papers on the desk, she stacked the comic books into piles by type, even putting them in order by issue date.

  Victor’s pulse stalled. The woman knocked him into parallel dimensions during sex, which amazed him every time. She liked his dog, and his dog liked her. She upped the game when she motivated him to clean, but then she transcended the rules of their agreement by sorting his comic books.

  After draping the trash bag over the arm of the couch, Victor removed his jeans and laid them by the bag before moving toward Darci. Ready to concede defeat, though he wouldn’t admit how much, he knelt before her and picked up some comics she hadn’t sorted yet.

  “Victor?”

  “We both know I’m not going to win this cleaning game.”

  “So you decided to start stripping?”

  “Conceding defeat until I can talk you out of your clothes.”

  “You sure you’re not just trying to distract me from more cleaning?”

  He grinned. “I may be a geek, but I’m still a man. And you seem to bring out the hopeful side of me.”

  Even the romantic stuff they’d agreed to avoid seemed to be emerging, because the idea of taking things to a new level held great appeal.

  Darci unfastened her jeans and let them fall to the floor at the end of the bed while Victor smoothed out the comforter. He cocked his head, silently questioning in the way she’d noticed he had when he sat in front of the computer.