Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)

by Claire Contreras

  All I could do was nod and turn around, ready to bolt out the door, but suddenly his arms were around me body, pulling me back to him, and I gasped at the feel of his hard body pressed up against mine. God. It’d been so long.

  “Do you remember where I live? Have Marcus drop you off there,” he said into my ear before nipping the tip of my earlobe. I rocked against him. “We need to be careful until everything is finalized.”

  I nodded and stumbled a bit when I felt his mouth on my neck again. What I would do for him to just fuck me right there on that dance floor. In that stairwell. In the club bathroom. I was past the point of caring. He let go of me and walked at a normal distance once we reached the top of the stairs and into the VIP section. I introduced him to Chrissy, formally. They already knew each other from the first club experience Victor and I had, and then from the whole the guy I fucked in the bathroom on my birthday works for my father! What are the chances? fiasco.

  “I saw you on TV when you represented Harlow Winters in her divorce. You look hotter in person,” she said. Victor gave her a tell me something I don’t know smile.

  “Let me go tell Bobby I’m leaving,” he said after I told Chrissy I was leaving. At the mention of my Bobby’s name, I paused. Victor shot me a confused look, so I pulled down on the sleeve of his suit jacket so he could lower his head.

  “Isn’t it going to look weird if we both say bye to him and leave together?”

  He straightened and looked at me for a long moment. I could practically hear the wheels in his head turning, trying to think of a solution. Finally, he nodded in agreement. I walked back to where Marcus was instead, and left while Victor went back to his table. When we opened the back door to go outside, the paparazzi snapped pictures, probably hoping to catch their newest juicy story, but stopped quickly when they saw it was only me, though they did ask their usual questions. What are you doing now that Gabriel is filming in Canada? Do you miss him? Will you visit him on set?

  I let out a relieved breath once I got into the passenger seat.

  “They are so fucking annoying,” I huffed when Marcus got into the driver seat.

  “Where to now?” he asked. I hated when he ignored my remarks. Didn’t he understand that I wanted to rant?

  I pulled up Victor’s address from the text message Estelle had sent me the day he was sick and instructed Marcus to drive me there.

  “Drop you off?” he asked when I said that.

  “Yes.” I leaned back into my seat as I sent a quick reply telling Victor I’d be there. “I’ll get a ride home.”

  Marcus looked at me for a beat. I didn’t acknowledge it, but I felt his stare on the side of my face before he sighed and started driving. I kept quiet the entire time. My hands on my lap shaking slightly. My nerves making it difficult to breathe calmly. I’d done this before. I’d done it often, but I couldn’t escape the fact that I’d never completely planned for it. The ride was long enough for me to have no choice but to think about the decision I’d made. I wondered if he’d purposely sent me there in a different car for that reason, to see if I chickened out and decided I couldn’t follow through with it. I took a breath and let it out slowly when the car slowed into a stop as we reached the quaint two-story beach house that I’d fallen in love with the day I came to visit.

  “I’ll wait here,” Marcus said when he put the gear in park behind Victor’s Jaguar.

  I swallowed. I could have him wait there. It would be the perfect scapegoat. But I didn’t want a scapegoat. I didn’t want a way to leave. If he wanted me to stay, I’d stay, and if he pissed me off, I’d Uber home. I took a deep breath.

  “No. Just go home. I’ll call you when I need you to come pick me up.” I put my hand on the door handle and looked at him. I could tell he was still having a difficult time with the idea of just dropping me off. “I know I don’t have to say this because you signed non-disclosures, but—”

  He put a hand up, and I stopped talking. He didn’t say anything, but his clear-blue eyes were sharp and serious, and I knew I was understood. I got out of the car, made my way up the gravel driveway and the few steps to the door. My hand went up in a fist to knock, but the door opened before I could. Victor didn’t peek out, he just opened it wide enough for me to step in and closed it right behind me. The house was dark, only the glow of the kitchen light seeping through.

  “Hi,” I whispered, suddenly feeling shy as I tilted my face to his.

  “Hi,” he whispered back, grasping my wrist with one hand and pulling me a little closer, until his minty breath was over my face, and bringing his other hand up to the side of my face in a slow caress.

  “I don’t know if I already told you this, but I really love your house,” I said.

  I could barely make out his smile, but I knew it was there. In this kind of lighting I could barely make out his face, but I knew his features so well it didn’t matter. If I went blind in that instance, I could perfectly describe him for a sketch.

  “Wait until you see my bed,” he said, his voice still quiet as if he were afraid to burst the bubble we were in. I smiled.

  “Were you followed?” he asked, bringing his lips down to my jaw. “I don’t want the media assuming things about you.” His mouth worked its way up to my ear and back down slowly. I sighed against him.

  “You mean about us,” I said. He pulled back slightly, his hand still on the side of my face, the other making its way down to my ass.

  “I wish I cared about that. I should, but I want this to happen too much to let that stop me,” he said squeezing my ass. “I don’t know if you were serious about finding another man to satisfy your needs, or just saying it to push me over the edge, but fuck that idea, Nicole. Fuck that idea. I need you. I want you, and I always get what I want.”

  “So spoiled,” I whispered, leaning into him and tipping my face a little more until our lips brushed against each other’s.

  “Hard working,” he replied as his hand slid to the back of my neck and his lips molded against mine.

  They were soft and tentative, tasting, his teeth teasing as he tugged on my bottom lip, his hands making their way down my body and inching my dress up slowly. So slowly. I started undoing the buttons of his dress shirt quickly, and he chuckled against me, the sound vibrating through me and making me shiver.

  “We’re not rushing this, Nicole,” he said, a whisper against my lips. I felt like I was on fire, burning for him, desperate for anything he’d give me, my breath fast and erratic.

  “A quickie is fine by me,” I said when he successfully pulled the dress over my head. His gaze alone made me feel like I was off balance. The way he looked my body up and down, slowly, as if savoring me. He shook his head.

  “No quickie.”

  I reached for his shirt again, tugging it open and planting my palms on his hard chest, making my way to his shoulders and down his sculpted arms, taking the shirt off with my touch. My heart was beating wildly as I studied the sight in front of me, his lean frame, the six-pack I had no idea he had beneath his work clothes. I swallowed thickly as my gaze made its way back up to his eyes. The fire in them made my stomach flip. He took his shoes off, kicking them off to the side before stripping out of his socks, then he pulled me back to him and took my mouth in his again, his hands groping my ass, my waist, my breasts. His hands went around and unclasped my bra, tugging it down quickly and throwing it to the side. His hands cradled my face as he gazed down at me and my heart began to thunder inside my chest. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but didn’t, instead lowering his mouth to mine once more.

  He walked backward, bringing me with him as he held me by the waist, his mouth all over me—my mouth, my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. I held on to his strong forearms so I wouldn’t trip over my feet or his. He pushed a door open and I gripped on to him when I opened my eyes and realized I was standing inside Victor’s bedroom. The young version of me did a backflip. Never in a million years did I ever think my life would t
ake me there, to his intimate lair. And never in a million years would I have thought it would be so normal, so cozy, unintimidating. It was a very manly room, from what I could see—large bed, dark sheets, dark décor. He pulled me toward the bed and pushed me down so I landed on my back, the plush mattress catching me and springing me up slightly.

  I laughed as I looked up at him, towering over me, looking all serious wearing only his slacks.

  “You look like you’re about to punish me,” I said.

  “Be careful what you wish for.”

  His gaze made its way down my body as he said the words, licking his lips in the process. I shivered against the soft sheets beneath me. He came closer, putting a knee between my legs to push my legs farther apart. In only a black silk thong and matching pumps, I was exposed. I would have felt shy, had it not been for the way he looked at me, like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. I opened my legs farther as he stood up straight and started working on taking off his belt. As he unbuttoned his pants, I fondled my breasts, and he groaned at the sight. My hands trailed over my stomach. I laid them flat against my abdomen, tucking them into my panties.

  “Fuck. Yes, Nicole,” he said, his voice raw as he stripped out of his pants, taking his boxer briefs with them. My heart stopped for a second as I looked at his erection and just how ready he was for me. His hand closed over it as he pumped and watched me. I moaned, slipping my fingers along my folds, remembering what he felt like inside me.

  “You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he said. “I wish you could see yourself.”

  “You look so fucking beautiful right now,” I said, biting my lip to stifle another moan. “I wish you would touch me instead of yourself.”

  His jaw clenched as he stepped toward me. It was as if his self-control snapped in that instance.

  His hands gripped my panties and pulled, the thong biting into my ass as he ripped them off me.

  He brought his face down to my chest, making his way to one of my nipples and licking, biting, tugging before sucking the entire thing into his mouth. My hands flew to his hair and pulled.

  “Holy shit,” I said, feeling the sensation everywhere. “Victor.”

  “Yes,” he said against my other nipple. “Keep saying my name. Tell me how much you want this.”

  “I want this so much,” I said, a gasp when he made his way down my stomach, licking, biting, dragging his teeth all the way to my clit and sucking it into his mouth. “Oh my God.” He licked the seam, up and down, not leaving any bit of it untouched by his tongue, before focusing on my clit again.

  “Tell me, Nicole,” he said, tugging at my lips. “Tell me how much you missed this.”

  I groaned, my pelvis jumping at how good his mouth felt on me.

  “Tell me how much you need this,” he continued as he groaned, putting more pressure on that spot. I felt my eyes rolling to the back of my head, my toes curling, a burn gradually moving from the tips of my toes to the top of my head as an orgasm began to wash over me. He kept licking me, sucking me, even after I screamed out his name. I shook my head, pulling at his head.

  “I can’t,” I said in a whimper. He kissed the inside of my thighs and replaced his mouth with his fingers as he made his way up my body, his eyes right in front of mine. “Victor,” I cried out again when he pushed his fingers inside me. He didn’t do it slowly. He didn’t let my body acclimate to anything.

  He wanted me to feel it.

  And I did.

  Everywhere.

  “I am going to fuck you so hard,” he said, lowering his face to suck on the side of my neck.

  “I thought you said no quick—” I said, gasping loudly when his fingers began to move against my clit and inside me all at once.

  “Does this feel like a quickie?” he asked as the tips of his fingers stroked my clit, bringing another orgasm out of me. I cried out again and again.

  “No,” I said, my voice barely containing the shrill behind it. He took his fingers out and licked them one by one as he looked down at me. My head was still clouded with what had just happened, but the sight of him licking his fingers, and knowing it was me he was tasting—savoring—with a look of ecstasy on his face that made my core tighten more than it already was. Victor didn’t let me take breaks. He didn’t give me time to sit up and try to please him. Instead, he propped a hand on either side of my head and pushed himself inside me. I screamed, my back arching off the bed. He was so big. I felt so. Fucking. Full.

  He paused his movements. I shot him a confused look.

  “You okay?” he asked. I nodded wildly.

  “More than okay.”

  “You sure? You look like you stopped breathing there for a while.”

  “I don’t need to breathe. I just need you to fuck me.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, his mouth coming down to my ear. “How would you like to be fucked? You want me to go slow?” He pushed in and pulled out slowly. So. Slowly. In and out. In and out.

  “Fuck,” I said. “Fuck.” It was the only thing I could make out. It was the only word I could even think.

  “You like this?” he asked, his hips moving in and out in a slow, long tempo that had me searching for my next breath.

  “Fast.” I gasped. “Hard.”

  He groaned, pulling out of me completely, and flipped me over. “Get on your knees.” I did, and shrieked when he slapped my ass hard. “You like that?” he asked, his voice raw. “You like it when I slap your ass like that?”

  I whimpered. It’s not that I hadn’t had someone slap my ass before, but the way he did it, the things he said while he did it? I felt like I was going to come right there. I pushed my hips back, wordlessly begging him to fuck me. He grabbed my hips and pounded into me. I shrieked again. This time, he didn’t go slow. He fucked me hard, pumping inside me hard, reaching for my hair and tying it to his hand as he pulled me up. The bite of it felt good. Everything felt so good. I couldn’t even remember what my sex life had been like before that instance. I couldn’t remember how another man felt inside me.

  “I’m going to make you come again. And again. And again,” he said as he pulled my hair harder, until my ear was by his mouth. “You’re never going to be able to forget who makes you feel like this.”

  “Oh God,” I said, feeling myself tighten around him, feeling the familiar burn of another orgasm forming. “I’m going to come, Victor.”

  “You’re fucking mine, Nicole,” he said, thrusting harder.

  I groaned, nodding as I tightened around him. “Yes.”

  “Say it.”

  “My . . .” I gasped when he slapped my ass again. Hard.

  “Say. It,” he said through his teeth, slapping my other ass cheek. “Your ass is mine. Your pussy is mine. Your tits are mine. Fucking say it.”

  I did, though my voice was hoarse and my words were quiet. I couldn’t remember him pulling out, or the way he pulled my back to his chest once he came back from throwing the condom away. I couldn’t remember how we fell asleep or what he said to me, but I remembered those words, because I felt him inside me when I woke up before the sun came up and called Marcus to pick me up.

  MARCUS’S SILENCE ON the ride home made me uneasy. I could only imagine what a straight-laced guy like him was thinking, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but of course I asked.

  “You think I’m a slut,” I said finally, unable to stand the discomfort any longer.

  He didn’t respond, not even when I looked over at him and caught him glancing at me quickly.

  “You think I’m a slut because I didn’t even wait to finalize my divorce before hooking up with another man.”

  At that, I saw the corner of his mouth tilt. “I don’t think that.”

  “Why are you so quiet then?”

  “I’m always quiet, ma’am.”

  “No, you’re not, and you never call me ma’am.”

  “Okay. Miss Alessi.”

  I glared at him. He didn’t acknowledge me. “Just Nic
ole, please, unless you’ve decided to go back to being all proper because you think I’m a slut.” Again, no answer. Finally, as we were getting close to my house, he sighed.

  “What you do is your business. I don’t think anything less of you.”

  “So you’re not mad that I called you before the sun came up?”

  He laughed. “That’s my job.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “Thank you, and thank you for not judging.”

  “That’s also my job.”

  I shook my head and smiled as I climbed out of the car. I practically stumbled into my house. My legs were tired, my thighs were burning, my vagina felt like it had been pounded . . . which, it had been, but I hadn’t expected to feel it as much as I did. I hadn’t done the walk of shame in a long time, and I felt a little excited, like I was back in the game. Along with giving me the best sex of my freaking life, Victor had also made me feel desired. I hadn’t felt that way in so long, I’d forgotten the power it held. I stripped off my clothes, showered, and slept like the dead. The only reason I woke was because of Bonnie’s whimpers.

  “I know. I know,” I said as I got out of bed and wiped my face. Back to the bathroom I went to brush my teeth and make myself semi-presentable for my new neighbors before I went outside with Bonnie.

  I was holding on to her leash with my eyes closed, face tilted to the sun, when a shadow suddenly set over my face. My heart jumped as I sat upright.

  “You scared me,” I said. Victor’s face was serious as he looked at me. He turned his face toward Bonnie, who was now trotting toward him. Without saying a word to me, he crouched down and started to pet her. He took her nametag in his fingers and smiled.

  “You left,” he said, still looking at my dog. “I wanted to take you to breakfast.”

  “I left because I didn’t think it would be smart for me to be there and do the walk of shame in front of photographers.”

  He appraised me for a moment. I wondered if he was thinking about what we’d done last night. My stomach clenched at the memory: his mouth on mine, his head between my thighs, thrusting his dick inside me like he was afraid it would never happen again. I felt a blush creep over my face and had to look away.