Victoria gasped, her back arching off the bed.
“Do you taste as sweet as you look?” Not waiting for an answer, his tongue flicked out against her swollen clit.
Tingles surged through her body. “Oh, God,” she moaned, fisting her palms against the comforter.
His sapphire eyes peered up at her from between her thighs, his lips curving devilishly. Sly, knowing, and naughty to the core, his smile reminded her of the Cheshire cat. His fingers splayed through the golden triangle of curls above the apex of her thighs. “Feels good?” he asked, rolling his thumb over her tight bud.
“Yes,” Victoria groaned.
“And this?” A second finger thrust into her, pulling out slowly and then twisting back in.
“Oh...God...yes,” she moaned.
Henry clasped his hands around her ass and raised her securely to his mouth. “I’m ravenous,” he said before sucking at her swollen folds. Greedily, he feasted on her pussy, his tongue lapping at her thick juices.
Victoria’s head tossed back and forth across the pillow. High-pitched wails emitted deep from within her throat. “I can’t take any more,” she cried, bucking furiously against the two fingers that pumped in and out of her sex, finger-fucking her mercilessly.
“Please,” she pleaded, “fuck me. I need to feel you inside me.”
“Not yet,” Henry said, denying her as a third finger strayed to her ass. A tremor rocked through her as Henry applied gentle pressure to the pucker of her virgin hole.
Legs shaking, Victoria’s body quaked uncontrollably. A kaleidoscope of color burst within her as she shattered into a million pieces, her body climaxing violently.
Sated, she lay still as Henry braced each of his arms above her. “You’re a fucking goddess,” he rasped, his lips glistening with evidence of her arousal. “Don’t move,” he ordered as if she had the strength to get up.
Victoria’s watched as he moved to the bedside table and removed a condom from the drawer. Returning to the bed, he stood above her, his eyes raking over Victoria’s naked body. He ripped the condom wrapper open with his teeth and rolled it over his throbbing cock.
She reached up and cupped his face, drawing his mouth to hers as he straddled her. Their tongues flicked out, wrestling with urgent need.
Guiding his cock to her sex, Henry throbbed against her. Her pussy was swollen and wet with need for him. Henry maneuvered his cock up and down Victoria’s pussy lips, making himself slick with her wetness. He clenched his teeth and thrust into her, burying himself deep to fill her to the hilt. Stilling momentarily, he allowed her to adjust to his size before lazily beginning to grind his hips.
“So. Fucking. Tight,” he said through gritted teeth. His fingers clenched around each of her ass cheeks, pulling her sex tighter to his as he began to thrust harder.
“Oh, God,” Victoria cried out, her hips bucking in response. The sound of her own juices sloshing against his cock nearly sent her over the edge as she demanded, “Fuck me hard.”
Henry shoved deeper into her, pounding his cock in and out as Victoria cried out. Her body erupted into a series of spasms as she collapsed beneath him. Thrusting one last time, Henry grew rigid as he released a deep groan and shuddered his release.
Their breaths panting to an intimate tango, Henry moved to his side, pulling Victoria with him.
Victoria closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. The scent of sex wafted through the air around them. Wrapped in the warm cocoon of Henry’s embrace she tried to relax. Intimacy, such as this, was foreign to her. David’s reluctance to cuddle with her directly after they’d made love had always troubled her, leaving her feeling dirty and used. But Henry seemed content to snuggle with her. Why? Tonight was supposed to be purely physical. Nothing more.
Through dark lashes, she peered up, noting the sheen of sweat that coated his flesh. Looking content, he lay with his eyes closed, his chest rising up and down as he regained his breath. Henry didn’t look put out at all. In fact, he looked content. Holy shit! Henrique Santana looked at ease, comfortable with her in his arms. No...No...No! This was wrong. “Don’t you want to take a shower?” Victoria blurted awkwardly.
Henry rolled his neck toward her, his lips brushing a kiss on her temple. His cheek rested against the top of her head. “Not yet,” he breathed into her hair. “I’ve got to catch my breath; you wore me out.” His arm tightened around her waist. “Besides, I like the way you feel in my arms.”
A few moments passed as Victoria listened to the rhythmic beat of Henry’s heart. She counted to ten, willing herself to ignore her discomfort, but the walls felt as if they were caving in on her. She couldn’t breathe. Trapped within Henry’s strong embrace, Victoria felt helpless as if he were cutting off her windpipe to strangle her. She wiggled out from the beneath his arms and into a seated position. Free from his confines, she gulped for air.
Henry raised his body into a reclining position, his weight resting on his elbows. His brow was furrowed, his expression perplexed. “What’s upset you?” he asked, placing his hand on her shoulder.
Victoria flung her body from the bed, nearly falling as she skidded on a heap of their clothing. She dropped to her knees and shuffled frantically through the pile that lay on the floor. “Where are they?” she sputtered, overcome with desperation to find her panties. There was no time for this. She had to get out of there. Unsuccessful, she abandoned her hunt and snatched up her dress, wobbling as her bare foot stepped on its hem. Hastily, she donned her clothing.
Worry lines etched Henry’s forehead. “Victoria?” he questioned and tore the sheet from his lap. He jolted off the bed and stalked toward her. Capturing her arm, he turned her to face him. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded sternly.
Panic-stricken, Victoria shook her head. “Nothing. Let me go.”
Henry’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening around her wrist. “No way. You owe me an explanation.”
“I owe you nothing,” she spat, struggling to free herself from his clutches.
“Don’t you dare deny it,” he said through clenched teeth. “The sex was out of this world. There’s something between us, Victoria. Something bigger than each of us can control.”
The blood drained from her face. “What have I done?” Victoria cried out, her voice reminiscent of a wounded animal, and then bolted from the room.
Chapter 17
Victoria
The keys dangled from Victoria’s trembling fingers as she fumbled with the door lock of her Toyota.
From behind her, she heard Henry’s deep voice. “Give me the keys,” he commanded.
She jumped, terrified he’d slow her progression. She needed to get away. To catch her breath. She couldn’t think straight when he was near.
He reached into her hand, easily prying the keys from her trembling fingers. Shoving them into his pocket, he positioned his body between her and the car.
“Give those back.”
“You’re not getting into this car until I’ve got some answers,” he said and leaned against the driver’s side door, blocking her escape.
Victoria glowered at him. “You can’t keep me prisoner here.”
“Watch me,” Henry said.
Victoria crossed her arms, her feet planted firmly on the pavement, and took in his disheveled appearance. Dressed in an unzipped, blue, hooded sweatshirt that hung open to reveal his six-pack abs, and a pair of faded blue jeans that he’d been in too much of a hurry to button, he looked sexier than ever. “You’re going to catch pneumonia.”
“You’re one to talk.” He laughed sarcastically.
Rolling her eyes, Victoria tried to focus her attention on anything but the shirtless man standing before her, the sides of his sweatshirt billowing in the wind. “Is human trafficking to be a new sideline for Santana Construction?” Victoria asked ruefully. “It’s a great plan. First, you seduce your unsuspecting victim. Then rip the innocent woman’s home from her and, while you’re at it, destroy her business, too. Then
she’ll have no will left to fight you after you’ve left her homeless and without a penny to her name.”
“Please,” he said, a trace of hurt lacing his plea. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Stepping forward, he covered both of her hands with his.
“What difference does it make? Now that you’ve had a good fuck, you’re not going to prevent me from entering my own car.” Victoria’s voice cracked. Her fingers clenched around the keys she wrenched away from him.
He grabbed her around the waist, forcing her against his chest. “Don’t you ever refer to yourself as a good fuck! It wasn’t like that. Damn it all! You know it was more than that.”
“Let go of me!” Victoria punched furiously against his chest. Legs flying, she kicked at his ankles, humiliated by the tears that streamed down her cheeks.
“Did I hurt you?” Henry breathed against her ear.
“No,” Victoria said, wilting against his chest. Sobbing, she said through tears, “But you will.”
“Things have changed, Victoria,” Henry said, loosening his hold around her waist. “Please.” He extended his hand to her. “Come in with me. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
Henry
Seated on the couch by her side, Henry ran his hand down the length of her hair. “Thank you for coming back.”
Frederick lay curled into a ball beside Victoria, his head in her lap. “How old is he,” she asked.
Henry reached to pat the dog’s head. “Freddy is getting to be an old man,” he said. “He’ll turn ten on New Year’s Day.”
“I guess you can’t forget his birthday. All you need to do is remember it’s the first day of a brand new year.”
“Believe me, Frederick is so spoiled that every day is like his birthday,” Henry chuckled. “Freddy’s got it made. Look at him now. He’s in doggie heaven. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s being treated to a head massage by a beautiful woman.” He swiped his thumb over her tear-stained cheek and studied her face. “How can you be so pretty even when you cry?”
Victoria’s bottom lip twitched, forming a half-smile. Frederick did appear to be at peace. “Well, we’re a good match. I’m a Taurus, and he’s a Capricorn.” She sniffled and shrugged her shoulders. “We’re both earth signs.”
“I see.” Henry rubbed his chin. “Are you an April or May baby?”
“April.”
“April what?”
“The 27th. Birthstone—diamond. Flower—daisy or sweet pea. Anything else you’re inquiring mind would like to know?”
“A lot,” Henry confessed. “But I’m not surprised to learn you’re a Taurus. Daisies convey purity and innocence. And sweet peas...well, the name says it all.” He rubbed her cold fingers between both of his palms, the friction blanketing her in warmth. “Regardless if you were born in April or May, you were meant to be bedazzled with diamonds and emeralds. Both precious gemstones befit for a queen.”
Victoria blushed, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. “As I’ve said before, you certainly have a way with words, Mr. Santana.”
Henry scowled. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” Victoria asked, appearing surprised by the question.
“Call me Mr. Santana? You say my name in a way that implies that you believe I’m lying to you.”
She focused her attention on Frederick, her delicate fingers stroking over his graying rust- and golden-hued hair. Henry couldn’t decide who received more comfort from the action—Victoria or the dog.
“How do I know you’re not?” she asked softly.
He cupped her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “What just happened between us wasn’t a lie,” he said.
She studied him, her hazel eyes reddened from tears. He longed to know what she was thinking. He needed her to believe him. Somehow, he had to make her trust him.
“Tell me,” she said, averting her gaze from his. “How do you know so much about flowers and birthstones, anyway?”
“Patrice. As I told you when we dined at Riccardo’s, my mother died in childbirth. Patrice is one of the few people who know the real me. She accepts me as I am and not what people perceive me to be.”
“What about Kelly St. Regis?”
“Kelly?” Henry sighed. “It’s complicated between us.”
“I’m sure. She was your girlfriend.”
Lips downturned, Henry looked as if he’d just tasted something rotten. “Unfortunately.”
“I don’t understand,” Victoria stated, bewildered.
“I’m not going to soil her name when she isn’t present to defend herself. That’s not my style. However, you can be assured, Kelly is riddled with issues,” he said.
“Oh.” Victoria shifted in the seat. “She seems perfect.”
Henry snorted. “Far from it. Granted, she’s beautiful, but it’s only skin-deep.”
“I’m sorry to seem so nosy. It’s really none of my business. But, I have to ask—”
“Why did I date her?” Henry interceded before Victoria could complete her question. “You won’t think much of me for saying this, but the truth is she was a distraction.” Henry took a deep breath. “I know it sounds like a coward’s excuse, but I wasn’t in my right mind when we got together. My fiancée, Isobel, she...um—” Henry closed his eyes. “This is really hard to talk about.”
“You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have pried,” Victoria said, her instincts telling her that whatever Henry was about to confide in her would create a lasting bond she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
“I should have been there. Maybe...I could’ve saved her.” Henry’s voice cracked. “They found her—” he cleared his throat—“the police found Isobel’s beaten body floating in the river.”
Victoria gasped and wrapped an arm around Henry’s shoulder.
“I had the flu,” Henry said, continuing the story. “I’d been too sick to walk her home from class that night. When I heard of her attack, I wanted to die along with her.”
“Oh. My. God.” Victoria placed her head on his shoulder and whispered, “Isobel’s the reason you acted so possessive of me the night we went to the restaurant. She’s the reason you wouldn’t allow me to walk to my car alone at the gala. Isn’t she?”
“Someone killed Isobel. I should have been there to protect her.” Henry placed his elbows on his thighs, dropping his face into his cupped palms. His words were muffled as his shoulders quaked. “I can’t stand the thought of someone harming you. I only want to protect you.”
A tear rolled down Victoria’s cheek. She placed her palm on Henry’s back, working her fingers down the base of his neck and over his shoulders, kneading the tension in his muscles. “Thank you for looking out for me,” she said and placed a kiss on his shoulder.
Henry rubbed his eyes and then lifted his hand to hold hers. “Now you know.”
“I’m sorry,” she said empathetically.
Henry reclined back, pulling Victoria with him to sink more comfortably on the couch. “I’m sorry I broke down. I haven’t talked about Isobel for a long time.”
Victoria placed her hand on his thigh. “No need to apologize. I’m honored that you felt comfortable enough to tell me.” She sighed, nestling her head against his chest. “Looks like we both were overwrought with emotion tonight.”
“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“I’m not sure I’m following you.”
“Don’t act like you don’t understand me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Victoria sighed. “Yup, I do.”
“I care about you,” Henry said.
“You don’t have to say that,” she answered dismissively.
“Damn right, I don’t have to say anything. I want to know that you understand that tonight meant something to me—you mean something to me,” Henry said. “And I’m happy it happened.”
“Me, too,” Victoria confessed before lowering her voice into a near whisper. “But it can’t happen again.”
Henry shot into an upright
position. “Why the hell not?”
“Because nothing good is going to come from this. I don’t think you understand what it’s like to be preoccupied with fear. I can’t relax. I can’t sleep. I worry about everything. My house. My shop. It’s all too much.” Victoria’s voice trembled, a tear spilling down her cheek as she admitted, “I can’t lose my heart, too.”
“Then tell me what to do to make you smile again,” Henry said. “If you need money, I can help you.”
“Forget about the construction project,” she asked vulnerably.
Henry closed his eyes, his heart wrenching at her request. “It’s too late. I can’t.”
“Well, then—” Victoria stood up from the couch—“we have nothing left to discuss.”
Chapter 18
Victoria
Victoria stepped into the Literary Ladies’ Book Nook and Café, unsure how to interact with Jennifer after the previous evening’s heated exchange. “Good morning,” she called out timidly from the entrance.
Jennifer turned her attention away from her task to pierce Victoria with a suspicious glare. “Is it?” she asked.
Hearing the hostility in Jennifer’s voice, a shiver ran down her spine. “Did you make something new this morning?” Victoria asked, putting on a brave face as if nothing were wrong.
“Nope,” Jennifer answered curtly and resumed her focus back on her task.
“Well, whatever you’ve made it smells delightful,” Victoria stammered.
Bent over the pastry display’s glass top, Jennifer furiously scrubbed at its surface with a threadbare rag. “Same shit as yesterday. Of course, you’ve been so self-absorbed lately that I doubt you’ve noticed much of anything that’s gone on around here,” Jennifer said.
“That’s a rotten thing to say. Not to mention, unfair.” Victoria forked her shaking fingers through her hair, smoothing the long, thick mass over her shoulders. “You know better than anyone that I put my heart and soul into this business even though I’m stressed out to the max.”
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