Lust on the Rocks

by Dianne Venetta

  “So what do you do for fun?”

  Vic pinched the end of his olive-laden sword and stirred his drink, taking his time as he allowed the current of lust to pass through his system. “Be more specific.”

  “Family, friends...females?” She raised her brow. “Wherever you want to begin, I’m game.”

  Easy. He’d begin the same place he always did. “My family back home is pretty tight. We spend a lot of time together.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  It seemed both a curse and a blessing at times. “For the most part. Sunday dinners, holidays, special occasions, my mom is an organization fanatic when it comes to get-togethers. She plans a menu like she’s catering a five-star event and makes everything from scratch. Pretty hard to resist.”

  “Tell me you weren’t living at home before you moved here.”

  “Ha, ha.” Vic shifted in his seat. “I’m no weirdo loser. My mother is an amazing woman, plain and simple. No reason not to call it like I see it.”

  “That’s refreshing to hear from a man.”

  “It’s not every guy that has a mom like mine.”

  “What about your dad?”

  “My father is a prominent attorney.”

  She gave an expectant lift to her shoulders. “And?”

  “And, what? He’s a good guy.” Depressed, angry… He sighed. But a good man at heart.

  “What do they think of you moving to Miami?”

  Something inside him hardened. “They’re very supportive of what I do.”

  She nodded, as though it were obvious. “They want you to be happy.”

  Vic felt the old pressure swell in his gut. “Something like that.” He sipped from his drink, coating his ache with a soothing measure of gin.

  “Family is important,” Sam said, with what sounded like genuine admiration. “Particularly the dedicated kind.”

  He paused, and held onto the softness that entered her voice. “If you feel that way, why aren’t you married?”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  “Asked you first. The way you said it, sounded like you have some experience in the department.”

  “I do. Loads of it.” She shook long bangs from her well-shaped brow and said, “I come from a family of six kids.”

  “Six kids?”

  “Six. And I, being the oldest, had to help raise the little beasts—I mean, dearies.” She smiled sweet as syrup. “And mind you, I love every one of them, but I don’t want to repeat history.” She mimicked a shudder and fiddled with her drink’s red plastic sword. “I’ve had my fill in the child-rearing department, thank you very much, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the commitment my parents made to keep it together.”

  Oblivious now to the parade of passersby, Vic felt a strange wave of disappointment. “What, you don’t want kids?”

  “I have kids,” she asserted. “My brothers and sisters have several between them who I enjoy very much, but as for myself I’ve chosen a different path.”

  Vic nodded, but said nothing. He was calculating the new information, turning it over in his mind, deciding what it meant and how he felt about it.

  And it’s reflection on her.

  “So Vic, you still haven’t explained why you chose Miami.”

  He welcomed the shift in tide. Talk of marriage and children was starting to depress him. “I’m looking to add a little ‘sunshine’ to my life and this seemed just the place.”

  Sam dipped into her martini, the fiery gleam in her eyes magnetic, her smile reflecting the earlier reference. Inciting desire, it pulled him in, all without revealing her first thought.

  “Yes, well, sounds to me like you had a vested opportunity in your father’s firm. Why cross the country and start over?”

  “I wanted a change in scenery. While I’m young,” he added, with measured thrust.

  Sam smiled, intrigued, but let the subject go.

  While she had yet to decipher the reason for Vic’s move, and Raul’s insistence on acting as his cheerleader, she knew men didn’t usually uproot their careers and move halfway across the country, particularly when their father was a well-connected attorney in town and their academics were spotless.

  Unless there was a problem.

  But intent on enjoying the evening, she allowed the point to languish and released herself to more generic conversation. And where she found Vic to be easy company, humorous and well-versed in many subjects, she was most interested in his most brazen invitation for a walk along the beach.

  Following his lead, she walked across they wide expanse of sand, content to say little. Behind him, the full moon was a sharp cutout against the night sky, dumping its light onto the ocean’s surface, spreading across the fine ripples of water in a heavy glow adding a surreal quality to the sea—and the moment.

  A moment in time she wanted to stretch into hours.

  Vic had suggested the walk after dinner and disenchanted with the crowded sidewalk, she wholeheartedly agreed. Not an excursion Sam would dare venture alone, especially in a short skirt, but with Vic she felt safe. Not because of his size, though he was a commanding presence, but because underneath it all lay something intangible. Something distinct, almost threatening.

  No weapon. She sensed Vic didn’t need one. Somehow she knew he had the means to take out an attacker with his bare hands. Whether it was due to the tough Philly attitude or a natural ability on his part, raw intensity infused his aura, warning offenders to proceed with caution.

  Danger lay ahead.

  Sam discovered she liked Vic’s brand of strength. Accustomed to standing head to head with most men, in both height and ability, she liked the fact she looked up to Vic, and felt feminine by comparison. And though she would never voice as much, a part of her enjoyed the protective shield she felt, strolling side by side in the soft wash of moonlight, swinging strappy heels by her side.

  “It’s nice out here, isn’t it?”

  The light breeze tossed hair into her face as she looked at him. “One of my favorite places to be.”

  The feel and sound of crashing waves reminded her of life’s ebb and flow, the powerful force of nature, the calming sense of continuity. She loved the ocean, from the deep dark depths to the slide of incoming tides across a shore littered with shells.

  Vic kept his pace slow. Jean pant legs rolled up, he carried his loafers in one hand, allowing the other to occasionally bump with hers. “Why aren’t you tied down yet, Sam? Seems to me, a woman like you would have men lining up with proposals.”

  She chuckled at his compliment. “I don’t want to be tied down.”

  “Ever? You mean to tell me you never met a guy who did it for you?”

  “Did it for me?” she repeated, amused by his choice of words. But she knew what he meant and relaxed into a laugh. “I’ve met a lot of men who have done it for me, as you so neatly put, but I choose to be single.”

  “Why? Someone hurt you?”

  “No.” Other than my family. Being forced to care for five little kids when you were scarcely one yourself wasn’t so great. But life did that to you. It put you in situations and forced you to deal—which she did. But that was behind her now and she didn’t intend to go back. Ever.

  “You don’t want kids? Is that it?”

  “Let’s say I had an overexposure at a young age, caring for my brothers and sisters and I’m cleansed of any desire to have my own. What about you?”

  “What about me.”

  “Siblings, nieces, nephews...”

  “None,” he said, and Sam almost tripped over the soft quality of his voice.

  “Must be strange.” When he didn’t reply, she said, “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right.”

  He looked at her and said, “Don’t worry about it. No big deal.”

  But the vulnerability in his eyes unraveled her heart. Had he been hurt? Was that the reason behind his distinct change in demeanor, the wall that slid between them? This was usually easy territory for a
man. Unless there was a problem, rang the sentiment again. “Ever thought about marriage and kids for yourself?”

  “Maybe someday.”

  “Someday?”

  “I’m focused on my career, but later, when I’m ready to settle down...” The thought fell away. “Who knows?”

  “They’re a lot of work,” Sam tried to make light, willing the ease to return.

  “But the connection is worth it.”

  She turned to him and he stopped. In the distance, the sound of partygoers blended with the thumping base of music drifting far and wide. Behind them, a large wave crashed. Racing up the shore, it submerged them ankle deep, then glided across the wide expanse of sand as it made its retreat to the ocean. Something changed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood amidst goose bumps prickling her flesh. Vic’s gaze cut through the gentle evening light as he touched her hair, ceasing its lash across her cheekbones. Her pulse quickened.

  “I had a nice time.”

  “Me, too,” she uttered, her breathing reduced to wisps.

  “I’m glad we’re working together.”

  She could only nod, suspended by what came next.

  Chapter Eight

  “I like you, Sam.”

  “Me, too,” she murmured, swept away by the current running between them.

  “A lot.”

  He skimmed the backs of his fingers along her temple, and every inch of her wanted to respond. Balmy breeze, the heavy scent of ocean, romantic moonlight... All he needed was to say the word.

  “What are we going to do about it?” she asked, quieting her response, taming the exhilaration coursing through her. She didn’t want to appear eager. Interested, but not eager.

  “I don’t know.” He smiled. “What I do know is I’m in a difficult position.”

  Realization settled in, but she asked, “How so?”

  Vic’s smile turned electric. “My boss is sexier than any woman has a right to be.”

  Careless to the schoolgirl grin lengthening across her face, she was captivated within the spotlight of his attention. Which was crazy. She was used to entertaining the hot-crackle-pop of new lovers, the tentative first beginnings, but for some reason, this one was different.

  Not only snared, this one had her hooked, but good.

  “Go on...”

  “Not only stunning, her mind runs circles around most others. A trait I find incredibly appealing in a woman.”

  Doubt pushed in. Should they do this? Getting close to Vic was something she had been considering for a long time, her desire compounded after the incident with Selena.

  But today she had drawn him closer—professionally speaking—and sex could change everything.

  What would it do to their relationship? Would sex ruin it? He inched closer and excitement sprinted through her. Or sweeten it?

  “Is this wrong?” he asked, the delicate question swept closer by the brush of a breeze.

  Sam didn’t know, but every fiber in her being wanted to find out. She tipped her chin up, hair blowing about her face, and encouraged his next move.

  Vic ran the pad of his finger along her lower lip, staring at them as he did so. “You drive me insane with that mouth of yours.”

  Her response was more a throaty groan than chuckle.

  His eyes darted back and forth across hers.

  Sam smiled. With a hand to the back of his head, she pulled his face to hers. They were both adults. She’d had relationships with men on the job before and nothing had come of them, good or bad. Hell, office romances were more common than the common cold! If it didn’t work out, they could handle it.

  Pleasure hummed along her senses. She was sure of it.

  Rubbing her lips back and forth across the satiny skin of his, the contact sent hot stabs of want through the soft folds of her loins. Sam felt his warm breath grow shallow and leaned into the rock of his chest, welcoming his tongue as it delved inside, his arms as they slid around her back.

  Moving her hands to his biceps, she luxuriated in the hard, round curve of his muscle, the sense of virility it exuded. Her craving intensified.

  Vic broke away, but not too far, keeping her secure in his grasp. “You okay with this?” he asked, his eyes intense, probing.

  “I’m okay, if you’re okay.”

  She had had her share of lovers and wasn’t embarrassed to say so. Much like a man, she had needs, enjoyed sex, and uninterested in commitment or marriage, saw no problem with the arrangement of a casual affair.

  “Once I get started I’m not gonna want to stop.”

  “I hope not,” she said, anticipation welling. She wanted to feel him, all of him. From the rock of his chest as it pressed against her breasts to the supple skin of his lips, Sam wanted to experience all of this man.

  The ride to her condo had been unbearable. Sam could only wonder what he would feel like, look like, how he would taste, behave. Was he the fun and playful type? Or was he hot, intense, a man of few words...

  Once inside her door, she flicked on a light before Vic swung her to him, his hands tangling in her hair as movement took on a sense of urgency. He pulled her head back and covered her mouth with his, separated her lips and eased his tongue inside. Surprised by the sudden move, she pressed into him and held on to his shoulders as he made several deep thrusts, then followed with a run of his tongue along her neck.

  Sliding her arms around his waist, she pushed her hips into his, savoring the desire churning between them, the intense burn between her thighs as he nipped at her throat, her collarbone, then brushed aside the thin strap of her tank for better access.

  No bra, Sam gave a grunt of pleasure as her nipples hardened to peaks. She granted him full admission to go where he wanted, when he wanted, and then she would do the same. She would have her way with him. Give in to the yearnings office propriety had forced her to bury and do so all night long. With Jess at her brother’s this evening, they’d have the place all to themselves.

  Vic cupped her face and kissed her. The move was brief, yet tender, and he lingered over her lips. Through hooded eyes, he stared at her. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

  On solid footing now, she grew more brazen. “If the size of that friend of yours is any indication,” she challenged with a grin, “then I think I have some idea.”

  “That’s Max.” His smile turned wicked. “I’ll introduce you to him later.”

  Sam burst with delight. “Max? Is that what you call it?”

  “Nice, strong name, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose...” Amusement bubbled inside, but the fact that he seemed serious curbed the litany of comebacks catapulting through her mind and she paused to consider the idea. “Well, I guess if he’s anything like Mad Max, the warrior...”

  He pecked her nose. “My Max makes him look like a sissy.”

  “Then I am all yours, baby!” Glad to be rid of her earlier jitters, Sam leaned into him. She wanted another one of those damn near deadly kisses of his.

  Vic’s eyes gestured toward the glass doors. “Don’t you want to close the blinds?”

  “What for?” She glanced at them. “The ocean is my neighbor. Not a voyeur in sight.”

  Uncertainty gathered in his gaze. “You sure your sister won’t be coming home tonight?”

  “Hundred percent.”

  Slightly unsettled, Vic pulled her hands into a lock by their sides. “Let’s go in your room, just to be on the safe side.”

  She smiled at his shyness and thought it endearing. Lifting up on her toes, she dotted his lips with a kiss. “Whatever you want.”

  Sam led Vic by the hand into her bedroom where he spun her around and once again, plunged into a hot, hard, deep kiss. His pressure increased, as did his tempo and Sam responded. She molded herself to the contour of his body and grabbed the back of his head, urging him harder, deeper.

  Entangled in the embrace, they made their way to her bed. Vic dropped to the edge, but she remained standing between
his legs. Moonlight filtered in through the large glass doors painting the room with a natural glow, and created a mood better than she could have contrived. Add their walk on the beach and it felt “meant to be.”

  “I want to see you,” he murmured, his gaze hanging from the edge of hers. “All of you.”

  Her lips curled into a smile. By all means. Snaking her hands around to the back of her waistband, she unzipped her white skirt and let it fall to the floor.

  Vic’s interest dropped with it, her tiny red panties garnering his undivided attention. With a tentative hand, he caressed the lace trim, as though it were the first time he had ever seen anything like it. Tingles spread instantly, clear back to her rear.

  “Warn Max it’s going to get turbulent,” she said, then slid her tongue across her bottom lip. Hooking her thumbs under the straps of her stretch tank, she slowly pulled it down, aroused by the desire she saw pulsating in his eyes.

  It matched the throb between her legs.

  “Oh my...” Vic’s response was guttural as he reached up and stroked her breast, the touch transforming her skin into a tingling sheet of goose flesh. His gaze turned laser. “You’re not shy.”

  She shook her head, slow and deliberate. “I’m not.”

  Mesmerized, he moved his hand between her inner thighs, and skimmed the underside of the gauzy material. Sam felt a jolt of pleasure at his touch and whipped her top off, flinging it out of sight.

  Withdrawing his hand, Vic glided his fingers over her flat abdomen, then up along the curve of her waist, leaving a path of painstaking want in its wake. “I like looking at you this way.”

  “Do you, now...” she murmured, enjoying the moment immensely.

  “I do,” he said, and as if to prove it, encircled her breasts with both hands, lightly, gently.

  His touch woke every nerve ending in her body. Opening her mouth, she dipped her middle finger inside and gave it a long, slow suck. When she withdrew it, Sam slid it across his lips. The black of his eyes glittered as his mouth opened. She slipped her fingertip inside and indulged in the slick wetness of his mouth, his tongue as it swiped at her finger.