by Sophia Gray
Teresa laughed so hard she almost spilled her beer.
“All of that fuss over a steak? Everyone can grill a steak!” she complained, laughing at him again. Vance pretended to be hurt at her teasing.
“You wound me! Not everyone can cook my beef steak. You’ll see – it’ll be the best damn steak you’ve ever tasted!” he declared, and Teresa laughed yet again. It was like music to his ears listening to Teresa’s carefree laughter.
Vance started cooking, and they passed the time with silly banter; Teresa making smart remarks and smirking from the table while he chopped onions and minced garlic. By the time he finished, he had prepared two beef steaks with pepper sauce with a side of grilled vegetables that she had to admit looked pretty impressive.
They sat across from each other at the table, and Vance cut Teresa’s steak for her, aware that she could not do it with just one hand. He looked at her, waiting anxiously for her opinion when she took her first bite.
Teresa’s face was neutral for a moment before breaking out into a smile. “Vance, it really is delicious!” she said, taking another bite eagerly. Vance smiled proudly. “I take my words back: you can definitely cook a great steak.”
“I told you. I’m a pretty good cook – you still haven’t tried my gnocchi. I make them from scratch, and I have never found someone who did not love them.”
“I am really looking forward to trying them, then.”
They spent a lovely evening talking over the beers and steak. He had brought cheesecake for dessert, and they grabbed a slice each, along with a cup of tea, and went into the living room, where they settled on the couch to get more comfortable.
They talked a lot, opening up to each other. He told her about his new job, which she already knew about, and Teresa told him about her day and the difficulties of being one-handed.
“I’m thinking,” Vance mused out loud at one point in their conversation, “that I am going to join another motorcycle club here, if that is okay with you?” He looked at her with a look of nervousness. Teresa looked surprised.
“How come?”
“I miss riding my bike,” Vance confessed. “And I have heard about this motorcycle club that focuses on charity work for the community, like raising funds for parks and schools around the area.”
He had, in fact, done a lot of research on it before telling Teresa about it. It was true that he missed his days at the Grim Rebels clubhouse, but he could not go back to a life as a shady henchman. He wanted to do something for the community, and he had really liked the sound of the club when he’d read about it.
“Well, I think that is a wonderful idea. Maybe when I’m fully recovered, I’ll join you,” she said, shrugging, and Vance was taken aback. Riding side by side with Teresa was more than he could ever hope for!
“That would be fantastic, Tess.” He took her hand and squeezed it.
Teresa leaned towards him, and suddenly he was aware of the closeness of their bodies, of the heat she emanated, of her scent. His heart started racing, and his mind became cloudy. He felt a sudden urge to grab her and kiss her but was too afraid to make a move, and he just sat there, breathing hard and looking at her lips.
When Teresa closed the space between them and kissed him, his mind went completely blank. All he could think, feel, or care about was her soft lips on his. But before he knew it, it had ended.
“T-that was…” He trailed off, gazing into her eyes.
She looked down, lashes fluttering. “I know. Slow is good.” She didn’t want to go further, and he had to respect that.
He squeezed her hand again and enjoyed sitting with her, her head leaning on his shoulder. They talked quietly, enjoying the silence every now and then. Eventually, Teresa’s breathing grew slow and deep, and Vance knew she had fallen asleep. Gently, he maneuvered her body, so she was sitting up, and hooked his arms under her legs and back.
He slowly picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. After tucking her under the covers, he brushed his lips against her forehead and looked at her for a moment. He wanted very much to lie down next to her, but he knew it would be a bad idea. She wanted to go slow.
It took all of his willpower to close the door and head home, but he did so with a smile. This was good. This was progress.
Chapter Thirty-One
Teresa
After a month at home doing nothing but watching TV, reading, and her daily meeting with Vance, Teresa was sick of her imprisonment. She had taken regular walks around her neighborhood but was advised against excessive exercise. They had already taken the plaster off her arm, but she was still too weak to go to work, and her hand needed rehab, so she had been cooped up at home for the most part.
She missed working at the charity, and she even missed her job at the bar. So that morning she woke up, got dressed, and walked to the Silver Spoons for Charity. Everyone was there when she arrived, and they gave her the warmest of welcomes.
Teresa appreciated that none of her colleagues mentioned what had happened at the wedding – she knew Vance had told them the truth, but she did not feel like talking about it. She stayed with them for a while, but when service began, she realized that the best thing she could do was get out of their way and just head back home.
She was roaming the streets when she met someone she did not expect: David Bailey, a member of the Grim Rebels. All her senses stood on edge, her mind screaming that if he was there, it had to be because of her father. When Bailey walked up to her, she glared at him, ready to defy him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she spat at him. She had known Bailey when he was a rookie in the Grim Rebels and had even dated him for a bit, but according to Vance he had done well in life: he was now a lieutenant of the club.
Bailey laughed at her harsh words, but it was a cold, fake laugh.
“Well, can’t a man go where he pleases?” he said, trying to sound innocent. Teresa looked at him full of despise.
“Did my father send you?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Your father is not doing much lately. He’s getting old,” he joked. “Relax, I’m here of my own freewill,” he told her. Teresa did not know whether he was lying or not but decided she did not care.
“Stay away from me and Vance,” she threatened him.
“Or else?” Bailey was clearly not intimidated.
“Or else I’ll have to remind you that I’m still my father’s daughter,” she stated. Her eyes glimmered with fire, clearly willing to do anything that was necessary to protect herself and her loved ones. Bailey saw he was stepping on dangerous grounds and backed off.
“I can’t believe you are still married to that son of a bitch,” he said, spitting on the ground. He did not see what happened next: Teresa’s good fist smashed into his jaw, and he staggered back from the blow.
“Never talk about Vance that way again, Bailey,” she commanded.
Bailey looked at her, and for a moment she thought he would hit her back, but wordlessly he turned around and left. Teresa’s heart was racing; it had been a really long time since she had gotten into a fight and her fist was throbbing in pain. She tried to loosen her hand and inspected her knuckles: they would be swollen in the morning, but it had been worth it.
She would not let anyone hurt Vance.
And then it hit her: she had already forgotten Vance for everything that had happened. She trusted him, and she knew that his love for her was true. Then what the hell was she doing keeping him away? Seeing him only once a day? She wanted to be with him all the time.
Teresa’s face broke into a smile, and she took off running, not caring about the doctor’s orders. Vance would be at his job now, so she ran the distance to the carpenter’s workshop and arrived in eight long minutes.
She stopped at the door, panting, and through the glass windows, she saw him there, tending to a customer. A small bell rang when she opened the door, and Vance looked up, surprised to see her. She waited in silence until the customer left and then w
alked to the counter.
“Tess! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” he asked, sounding worried. For a moment, Teresa stammered and did not know what to say, suddenly embarrassed. She wanted to do it, but she had rushed all the way over there, and she knew her hair was disheveled, and her cheeks were splotchy and red. “Are you okay?” he asked again.
Teresa nodded and made up her mind: she was going to say it.
“I… I want you to live with me. I want us to be a married couple again,” she blurted out. Vance’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback.
“Are… are you sure? Why? What made you change your mind?”
“Nothing happened,” she said, but then changed her mind. If she wanted Vance to be one hundred percent honest with her, she had to offer the same deal. “Well, something happened. I ran into Bailey.” Vance’s surprise soon changed from concern to anger.
“Did he do anything to you? What did he want?” he asked, his voice low. Teresa grinned and showed him her swollen fist. It was already red and starting to swell.
“He wishes. He ran into me and my fist,” she explained proudly.
“Why?”
“He insulted you,” she told him simply. Vance wanted to say something else, but Teresa interrupted. “That is not the point. The point is that I want us to be in a real marriage. I don’t want to wait around anymore. I know I told you to take it slow, but I don’t think we can keep progressing unless we’re doing the real thing. Please, move in with me, will you?” she asked. Teresa looked intently at him, and for a moment feared that Vance would say no. But after a few seconds of silence Vance’s face broke into a big smile that warmed her heart.
“Of course I will! If that is what you really want.”
“It’s what I want,” she reassured him, and Vance laughed.
“Then I’ll start packing as soon as I get home,” he told her and reached out over the counter to plant a kiss on her lips.
Teresa went home feeling lighter and happier than she had felt in weeks. She got home and spent the rest of the day making room for Vance’s stuff in the closet and around the apartment.
The move was easy: Vance did not own many things, so he appeared on her doorstep several hours later with two suitcases and a backpack.
“Is that it?” she asked. Vance closed the door and carried everything into the bedroom.
“Yes, just my clothes and some books. There are some appliances and furniture, but I can sell those,” he answered.
Together, they placed everything in the closet and the bookshelves, and an hour later they had finished. Teresa called a restaurant and ordered some sushi, and they crashed on the couch waiting for dinner to come. It was warm and homey, and it felt really nice just being able to cuddle with him on the couch while the TV was on. She was not even paying attention to what was being said on the news: she was too busy looking at Vance. He was dozing off, probably tired from his day at work and moving all his stuff.
The doorbell rang, waking him up, and Teresa sprang to her feet. “I’ll get it!”
Vance stayed there, and three minutes later she re-entered the living room with a tray of sushi. They practically devoured the meal and crashed back on the couch when they finished.
“This morning I went to the motorcycle club I was talking about… and signed both of us up for it,” Vance suddenly said. Teresa was gladly surprised: she had been thinking about joining a motorcycle club again, and she would rather do it with Vance.
“That’s perfect!” She placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m aching to ride again.”
“You have practically healed already, so I’m sure you will be able to do it very soon. Just take it easy.”
Vance was very understanding. He had been nothing but kind and caring to her during that first month of recovery. He had gone every day to see her, had helped her with the chores and the cooking, and had never mentioned her father again, something that she really appreciated. Now she was glad to be with him again, and riding together would be the perfect gift for her.
“And, you know, when you are healed, we will both be able to ride to that lookout you like so much.” Vance started talking in a low voice, his hand drawing patterns on her leg. “Throw in a blanket and repeat what we did on your car… but in the open,” he suggested.
Teresa looked at him, raising an eyebrow, a sudden heat rushing throw her veins. The idea of making love to Vance in the open was so arousing that her heart started racing and she could feel the heat melting on her sex.
“What if someone sees us?” she asked, playing along. Her hand caressed the back of his neck, and she smirked when she saw goosebumps rising on his skin.
“We will tell them to go away,” he answered nonchalantly. His hand was now nearing her skirt, and he placed a kiss on her forehead.
“I never thought you would enjoy indecent exposure, Vance,” she said playfully, feigning her shame.
“There are many things about me you have yet to discover… and I’m dying to show them to you,” he shot back. His eyes were burning with desire and Teresa felt her insides melt. Vance’s lips found their way to her eyes, her nose, and her lips, and she parted them, letting him in.
He was resting his hand on her thigh, leaving a trail of light touches as his finger soon met the edge of her black skirt. The fabric fitted tightly around her body and muscles, and she could see his hungry look when he stared down. She threw him a challenging smile, one of her eyebrows lifting up.
Without another word, his hand slid forward, ready to disappear between her legs. For a second, she almost let him get away with it. She wanted desperately to feel the flat of his fingers rubbing over her clit, after all the teasing and light kisses and nibbles here and there. But there was something she wanted even more, and that was making him beg for it. He played the annoyed, distraught part whenever she chose to neglect him, but the wanton glint in his eyes was enough to tell her he loved it.
So she slapped his hand away before he could get under her skirt.
"Really?" He sighed, but there was the shadow of a chuckle at the back of his throat. He shook his hand in front of her, licking his knuckles where she had hit him, in a vain attempt to look hurt.
That didn't make her feel bad, of course. She grinned, leaning towards him. Trapping his lower lips between her teeth, she whispered, "You have to earn it."
Like a good student who obeys instantly, he grabbed her by the ass and slid her even closer to him, each of her legs on either side of him. She replied by deepening the kiss, tracing the edge of his teeth with her tongue. She was satisfied when a loud, guttural moan came from Vance's throat.
"What do you want me to do, love?" he uttered inside the kiss, moving to a specific spot on her neck. He licked lavishly, his hands all over her waist, stretching the soft fabric of the shirt she was wearing.
In reply, Teresa pushed him away. He grunted a bit but stayed quiet while staring at her with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. It was her turn to show him, instead of talking. So, she started to undo the buttons of her white shirt. Very carefully, very slowly, so much that Teresa could see the fervent, maddening look he was throwing. His head moved down in unison with her hands, with every button that was opened, revealing a bit of her bra and cleavage.
When the shirt was completely undone, he devoured her with his eyes. She had on a red, lace trim bra under her white shirt. Teresa could feel his grasp tightening over her flesh as if he was trying to control the primal impulse to just shove her down and pin her against the floor to fuck her. He didn't move, though, and she nodded approvingly.
"Get to work, boy," she hissed out seductively, taking advantage of the closeness to bite at his earlobe lightly.
He didn't need any further encouragement and rushed to bury his head on the crook of her neck. Vance's lips trailed down her neck, sucking and licking at her collarbone. It would certainly leave an ugly, purple mark later - something neither of them cared about. He took care of the shirt hanging on her shoulde
rs, pulling it off of her and tossing it aside. She draped her arms over his shoulders, stretching the space between them. He nuzzled her neck, leaving a trail of saliva as his mouth and tongue traveled down. He met her breasts soon enough; Teresa arched her back, panting, to invite him.
He didn't even bother to remove the piece of lingerie before his mouth trapped a nipple, sucking and licking with enthusiasm. Teresa patted him on the head, chuckling, and rubbed circles over his scalp. To give him more encouragement, she began to rock her hips, following the rhythm of his sucking. He sank his fingers into her back, switching from one breast to the other as he let out breathless pants.
It didn't take very long before the bra was tossed aside. Teresa held in a moan when she felt Vance's hot and moist breath closer to the sensitive skin around her chest. He went to work fast, resuming the licking and nibbling of her nipples in different, rhythmic motions. She dragged him closer, still straddling his lap, now definitely wetter than moments ago. Sensing her arousal, he attempted to reach for her skirt again, his mouth still busy sucking her nipples.