Sugar and Sin Bundle

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  A smug looked appeared on his face and he made a show of glancing at an imaginary watch. “You’re late.”

  Crap. “Been hanging with a bad crowd.”

  “Are you trying to say I corrupted you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What a whopper! You don’t need any help from me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I Googled you.”

  Victoria’s mouth dropped open but no words came out. She hadn’t Googled herself in awhile and had hoped Design Intervention articles and her charity work would’ve superseded those old stories.

  “Don’t act indignant. I asked you why the press hounded you and you wouldn’t tell me so I did some researching on my own.”

  “A gentleman wouldn’t look it up never mind bring it up.”

  “I think it’s been established that I’m not a gentlemen and well documented that you are no lady.”

  She conjured up her socialite snob tone and said, “I really don’t care.” But she did. She cared a lot.

  “Don’t try to turn on the ice queen act. I know better.”

  Damn freaking Internet was a curse on her life. The past would always be just a click away. Why did she worry about what he thought anyway? He was a recently retired stripper for God’s sake. He was no saint and like he said no gentleman either. They probably deserved each other. Victoria could see the headlines now—Socialite Slut Hooks Up With Stripper. She couldn’t help it, tears sprung to her eyes.

  Russ slid his hands up and down her arms. “Hey, hey, don’t … oh jeez I was teasing. You had a bit of fun. So what?”

  She smelled his ocean breeze scent over the ripening garbage by the curb. His touch burned not because his grip was too tight but too gentle. She choked back a sob.

  “Please no tears. I prefer the ice queen to that.”

  Victoria laughed and brushed away a tear just as Russ’s hand lifted to do it.

  The door swung open and they both looked up. Mrs. Hahn stood at the door. “Well, are you coming in?”

  Russ dropped his hands and they headed up the stairs.

  “We are so excited. Oh, who this?” Mrs. Hahn said.

  “This is Russ Rowland. He’ll be filling in for Neil. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, honey.” Mrs. Hahn winked and smiled as if they were girlfriends sharing a naughty thought together.

  Victoria was glad the homeowners were not allowed on set. This one, a desperate housewife if she ever saw one, would be hanging on Russ the whole time. “We’ll only need a few minutes to review the room.”

  “Take your time. I’ll mix us up some Margaritas.”

  “Thank you,” said Russ before Victoria could blurt out, ‘Hands off. He’s mine.’ Russ then added, “We can’t stay.”

  Victoria and Russ let themselves into the basement room. She pulled the sketches out of her portfolio case. They probably could’ve have done this back at her studio but she liked to feel the space out before the makeover began. Russ examined the sketches, making a suggestion in the placement of furniture and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he was right and she agreed to the changes. He seemed pleased that she took his advice. Before they left, Mrs. Hahn asked if she could get then anything but again Russ politely declined.

  As they headed down the outside steps Victoria said, “I’m surprised she didn’t offer you a bed for the night.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Ah!” Victoria looked out for a cab to hail.

  “Are you sure? I’ve recently discovered the feeling myself.”

  Normally she’d kick jealous boyfriends to the curb but the thought of Russ experiencing irrational emotions appealed to her. “Don’t be. They didn’t mean anything.”

  “And I do?”

  Answering him truthfully would give him power. She didn’t know where she stood or how he felt about her. Jealousy did not equal love, she knew that much. She wanted to know why he quit the revue and why he still hadn’t informed her of his decision. A cab started down the street and she put up her fingers to whistle. When she feared he would drive right by she began to frantically waving her arms like a woman on a deserted island spotting a rescue plane.

  The taxi pulled over. “I’m meeting Ava for drinks. You can come by around 11:00.”

  “If that’s convenient for you.” He opened the door.

  Victoria put her hand up so he wouldn’t follow her in. “We shouldn’t be seen together.”

  “That’s doesn’t make sense; we’re both going back into the city.”

  Victoria bit her lip. It was silly, they worked together after all and it was technically still working hours. “Guess it’s okay.”

  Russ made a face. “I wasn’t asking.”

  “Why are you acting so weird?”

  “You basically ordered me to your bedroom at 11:00.”

  That’s exactly what she had done but it was a perfect segue for her to ask,” Well, don’t you have to dance tonight?”

  He looked away before answering, “I quit.”

  She tried to lean into his field of vision. “Why?” she pressed.

  “After all the crap you gave me about the show and the bad publicity, you’re asking why?”

  “Oh, for the show?” she hated the disappointment in her voice.

  Still keeping his gaze averted he said, “What? You think I quit for you?”

  “No. Why would I think that?” Victoria’s ego was a bit bruised. Okay, a lot bruised. Thank God she didn’t answer the question he posed to her about him mattering to her.

  “Coming or going?” interrupted the cab driver in his thick Brooklyn accent. “I don’t got all day.”

  Chapter 24

  “Coming.” Russ executed a mock bow, sweeping his hand in a motion for Victoria to get in. Where did she get the notion he’d quit for her? Because it was true—not that he’d confess it to her. Russ barely admitted it to himself but the truth was her opinion of him mattered more than it should. As she brushed by him his dick came to attention. It didn’t take much when it came to her. A simple look. An accidental touch. Or was this accidental? She knew exactly what she was doing—trying to distract him from his still unanswered question. He slid in next to her as she smoothly gave the driver the address to her apartment. Her tears were probably just a performance like the ice queen act. And he fell for the waterworks like a sucker. The woman could be a star on Broadway if she wanted to. Victoria was a natural.

  “Where do you want to be dropped off?”

  He could take the subway home from her place, even hoof it but he knew that wouldn’t work for Victoria’s proper life. He nearly scoffed. Where was all that propriety with those men? “I’ll tell him after you get out.”

  She arched her eyebrow but didn’t press him for information, though he could tell by the way she bit her lip she wanted to. Good, let her wonder what he’d be doing while she was out with Ava having men buy them drinks. You would think she would’ve invited him along once she found out that he’d quit dancing—just out of common courtesy—though he doubted if she understood the concept.

  The image of her lying on the bar with that wanker licking a shot off her belly wouldn’t leave his head. He’d never been jealous a day in his life, never mind being jealous of something that happened in the past long before he knew Victoria. Long before he even thought about coming to the States.

  They made annoying small talk on the drive back. He should be happy she didn’t want to chatter on about where they stood or how she felt—or worse, how he felt. Russ hated those conversations. Yet, there was so much between them to discover and to sort out.

  His comments were tinted with sarcasm hoping to get a rise out her. In those moments she was the most real with him. When she lost her control he saw the real Victoria—vulnerable and unsure.

  The taxi pulled up to the curb and Russ jumped out to open her door before she could tell him not to bother. He reached for her hand and she slipped him a key as she got out.


  “So can I expect you?” Victoria bit her lip.

  The key to her place burned in his hand like a brand. The key exchange was considered a major step in a relationship, wasn’t it? Unsure they even had a ‘relationship,’ Russ didn’t know what to think. Maybe the next morning she’d say ‘on your way out leave the key on the nightstand right next to the vibrator.’ But one part of his anatomy could care less either way. So there was only one answer. “Abso-bloody-lutely.”

  Her laughter lit the air. He did that. Russ could make her smile, make her laugh, and make her come with wild abandon. Knowing he was the only man who could, Russ threw the key up in the air and then snatched it back, grinning like the fool that he was.

  Russ climbed back in the cab unsure what to do with the next few hours. It would be wise to catch a couple of hours of sleep so he could keep Victoria up all night. Though he doubted he’d sleep with his mind so filled with her.

  “Where to, buddy?”

  “Can you just drive around?”

  “Sure, your dime. Cool accent. Bet it drives the ladies wild.”

  “Except that one,” Russ lied. Though she claimed she hated when he laid on the Aussie lilt, he suspected she liked just as much as any other American women he’d encountered. So maybe it was one of her ‘Victoriaisms’—’I love it, so don’t do it.’

  “Not surprised. Seen that one in the paper. Always dating rich snobs like herself.”

  Russ almost defended her, but thought better of it. Victoria could certainly come across as a bitch. He’d been on the front lines for her verbal assaults but he realized her tactics were a defense mechanism. Had she dated those men to make her mother happy? What did it matter what type of man she dated? Russ hated them all.

  “Have you been to the Empire State Building yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s time you did.”

  That would be another check next to the list of places he wanted to see before leaving New York. But as he gazed out from the perch of the 86th floor he realized there’s one attraction he’d never get tired of visiting—Victoria’s bed.

  ***

  At 11:05 he stood outside her studio, withdrew the key from his pocket, and stared at the door. Why so nervous, Russ? It’s a damn key, not a ring. Using it, he opened the door, stepped in, and closed it. Soft light illuminated the space as if she’d been working. “Victoria?”

  No answer. He jogged up the steps to her living space. Was he supposed to knock? Russ didn’t know the proper etiquette, never even gave much thought to the rules of dating before. Deciding to go with his gut, he knocked softly and pushed the door open.

  “You’re late.”

  Russ had no snarky comeback; in fact, he’d been struck dumb. The sight of Victoria wearing a crimson red bra with matching panties seared itself into his brain. And it wasn’t even Valentine’s Day. Or his birthday. He wished she would perform a slow spin in those spiked heels so he could witness her glorious ass in what was most likely a thong. He hoped he wasn’t salivating like an unfed dog gazing longingly after a bone.

  “Oooh, I’ve rendered you speechless! So worth the five hundred price tag.”

  Russ’s open mouth pulled into a grin and he growled in response. “We’ll see if you still think so after it’s in tatters at your feet.”

  Victoria glowed with confidence, sashaying toward him with a smile of pure seduction that sent his heart racing. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead with each step she took.

  “Yet, there you still stand. Have I rendered you paralyzed as well?”

  Yeah, why hadn’t he’d already swept her up like he was Tarzan? Her arms wound their way around his neck. Victoria’s lips served as a defibrillator, shocking his body back to life. Russ gathered her into a possessive embrace and deepened the kiss.

  She pulled away licking her lips. “That’s better. Now, go get naked.”

  Russ could almost hear a choir singing when she turned around to reveal her luscious backside. “And where do you think you’re going?”

  “To the kitchen.”

  “For what?”

  She looked back all sassy and hot. “It’s a surprise.”

  He motioned to her outfit. “I don’t think my heart can take another surprise.”

  “Can’t have that, so I’ll give you a hint—edible delights.”

  Russ laughed in anticipation. Reaching the bedroom he pulled off his shirt and caught a glance in the mirror and slapped his hard stomach, which would soon be two short of a six-pack if he didn’t get to a gym soon.

  Victoria entered the bedroom carrying an ornate silver tray as if she were about to serve tea at The Ritz in London. On it were several sized bowls. He guessed one to be melted chocolate but he wondered what the others held. Whipped cream? Strawberries? His mouth wetted with the possibilities. As she neared he noticed three paintbrushes laid out in a precise manner. Russ held back a laugh. Even when it came to naughty sex she was all high society. He’d bet a million dollars that the body paint didn’t come from an adult novelty store.

  “I thought I told you to get naked.” She placed the tray of goodies on the nightstand.

  Why did an order from her sweet lips sound so sexy? Probably because he knew he’d be well rewarded for obeying. He shed the rest of his clothes.

  Lifting a lid and placing it down to the side, she said, “First, I’ll check the temperature. I wouldn’t want to mar your skin.” She dipped her elegant finger into the bowl of chocolate, brought it to her mouth, placing her crimson lips around it, and then drew it out of her mouth seductively. Her eye lashes fluttered in pleasure.

  Russ wanted to replace her finger with his cock.

  “Mmm, perfect. But what do you think?” She took his finger, guiding it to the bowl, dunking it, and then to her mouth. He almost came right there as she sucked the chocolate off, flicking her tongue along his fingertip.

  “I think you like to see me suffer.”

  Her throaty laugh was laced with a bit of evil. Victoria could play a female fatale with little effort. God help the males of the world if she ever put her mind to it. But right now he needed a little help keeping it together. She went to a lot of trouble staging this night and he didn’t want to ruin it for her by sweeping her up and throwing her onto the bed and getting on with it. The only thing that held him back from doing so was the anticipation of what she would do next.

  Victoria made a great show of picking up a brush and dunking it the chocolate, then gazed upon his body as if he were a canvas. She stepped forward and drew a sweeping V over his heart.

  “Branding me?”

  “Like a stallion.”

  “I don’t know if I’ve been insulted or complimented.”

  She painted a sun around his navel. “You can tell me after I ride you later.”

  His ab muscles involuntarily flexed from the feel of the paint licking his skin as if it were her tongue. “Later?”

  “Hmm.” She concentrated on her work like she was DaVinci painting the Mona Lisa.

  “How much later?” Russ was not a patient man.

  She ignored his question, apparently lost in her own little world. Was it the scent of her spicy perfume mixed with the smell of chocolate in the air that made him light headed or was it the way she stroked his body—interchanging the thick, thin, and fan brushes? When she was finished she moved back and examined her work—his body.

  She took one of the brushes that had been clenched between her teeth and said, “I might have a new career.”

  “As a torturer?”

  “Body paint artist.” Her feline smile clued him into what was going to happen next.

  Little flicks of her tongue skittered across his skin as she lapped off the chocolate as if she were a kitten given a bowl of cream. Didn’t she realize she was toying with a tiger?

  She licked his nipples then down his abdomen to his navel. His body lit like a furnace as she dropped to her knees. He wetted his lips as she reached for a brush then s
troked his cock with it. “I bet you ladies would love if these turned into one of those chocolate fondue fountains.”

  Victoria giggled. “Yeah, I don’t think there’d be a lesbian left on the planet if it were.”

  Then she replaced the brush with her lips, sucking the chocolate off him like a woman who’d been on a deserted island for ten years. His knees were going to buckle, he grabbed the bedpost with one hand for support and the other went into Victoria’s hair as he roared out her name and came.

  His butt hit the bed and he struggled to catch his breath. If he didn’t see it with his own eyes he wouldn’t have believed it. Victoria stretched back up and grabbed a hand towel. Taking the corner of it, she neatly patted her lips as if she just finished a meal.

  Did he actually think he could keep her up all night? He hoped she was full because he didn’t think he could survive another session. Next time she might just eat him alive.

  Victoria lifted up the lid of one of the other jars. Taking two fingers, she dunked it and came away with a dollop of whipped cream. He was about to ask for mercy but she covered her nipples instead. She dipped again and drew an arrow from breasts down to her pussy—before sliding it in between the slit then to her mouth and sucking on it. “Yum.”

  Something inside Russ snapped. All the energy she zapped from his body returned like a bolt of lightning waking Frankenstein from the dead and his thoughts just as carnal and primitive as when the monster saw his bride. Picking her up, he threw her onto the bed. The line of whipped cream beckoned his tongue. “I don’t need any damn directions.”

  Chapter 25

  A sex induced pleasure rush flooded her insides as Russ’s tongue blazed a trail down the path she finger-painted on her body. Combined with the sugar high, she was about ready to jump out of her skin.

  “You don’t need toppings—you already taste as sweet as honey.”

  Victoria settled into the pillows feeling like the Queen Bee as his busy mouth sucked the nectar from her. Remembering how her hand itched to draw him but her lack of skill to do so, she’d come up with a better solution. He became a living canvas, his skin rippling as the brush skimmed across him like moving art. Russ almost became her creation. Almost became hers. But branding him in melted Godiva chocolate with a V was temporary and only a foolish woman would try to mark him as hers.