Vincent was at a loss. He knew it must’ve been bad for a while if her sister was worried she would waste away in their apartment but never imagined her facing such negativity from people who should have cared for her. His gaze slipped to her back, and he wondered what the scars looked like to make men actually turn away from such a fiery woman. She ignited his life, and he’d noticed over the last week, she hadn’t forgotten anything. None of their conversations or events. She hadn’t forgotten one damn thing. Part of him hoped it was because she was with him.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered and shook her head, grinning. “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you.”
“I wanted to know,” he reminded her. “Just so you know, you don’t have to worry about any of that around me. I want you to be yourself all the time,” he told her sternly. “And you know what? The next event we go to, wear your earrings. All of them.”
Her fingers ran over her right ear with their multiple silver studs. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s 2017. If they can’t handle a woman with piercings in her ear, then screw them.”
“Vincent, I said I wouldn’t do anything to mess up your career.”
“And you won’t,” he said, reaching for her hand and pulling her towards him. “I might’ve been too hard on you when all this started.”
“And you’ve apologized like fifty times at least,” she said, staring into his eyes. “I forgave you.”
He breathed heavily out his nose, running his hands up her back. She shivered at the touch, inching even closer, and he considered offering her an afternoon delight, but they had agreed to take things slow. When she was ready, they would push the boundaries of their fragile relationship. For now, he brushed his lips across hers in a soft kiss and hugged her, safe in his arms. They stood like that for a long time in the kitchen, him holding her as she wrapped her arms around his waist. This was what home was supposed to feel like. He’d wished for a wife, but what he’d found was a partner, a friend, a woman who had seen some shit and found a way to cope with it the best she could. She might have been close to giving up, but he wouldn’t let her reach that place.
“Don’t you have an event tonight?” she asked after a while.
“Not yet.”
“Vincent,” she giggled. “Billy will kill you if you’re late.”
“I have some time still. Don’t rush me, woman,” he growled and rested his cheek on the top of her head again. Her scent of oranges and spice surrounded him until he was lost in her presence. She moved, and he lifted his head to see her staring up at him. “What?”
Her hands cupped his face, scratching playfully against the scruff on his cheeks. She stood up on her toes and kissed him. Vincent’s eyes slipped closed as his hunger for her exploded. His hands reached lower, cupping her ass. She licked his lips before her tongue slipped into his mouth, and they warred for control of the kiss as it heated. He backed them up until she hit the kitchen island then picked her up as if she weighed nothing, setting her on it. She spread her legs easily for him, drawing him in against her body. All ideas of needing to take it slow were no longer in his mind as her lips left his and kissed a path down his neck, nibbling and licking to his shoulder. She tugged at his tie and button-down shirt until he tore the first button free. Their hands fumbled with the rest together, her breathy laughter punctuating each kiss she planted on his body.
Natalie’s hands shoved his shirt fervently over his broad shoulders, and her lips immediately went to the bare skin as he tossed the shirt to the floor. She drew up the muscle tank he wore beneath, and it joined the other on the floor. Her palms flattened against his pecs, and Vincent cursed roughly as she traced each one, pinching his nipples with a glint of mischief in her light blue eyes.
When her nails raked down his chest towards his abs, he grabbed her hips and ground himself against her, wanting her to feel exactly what she did to him. Her eyes widened briefly before narrowing with what he could only describe as glee.
“Natalie,” he murmured and cupped her face in his hands. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
Her legs tightened their hold around his body. “I don’t know. That’s bad, isn’t it? We shouldn’t start this if I’m not able to go through with it. Damn, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t you dare apologize to me,” he growled. “I will wait however long you need to.” She nodded, but the flicker of nervousness in her eyes gave him pause. “Have you done this before?”
“Ah, that would be a no,” she whispered.
His hands fought not to grab her hips again and tear her clothes from her body. She had never fully experienced the pleasure of a man, and he would be the first. His primal instinct to possess this woman rose with a fury, and he nearly lost his control.
“Is that bad?” she asked when he choked on his words.
“No…no, it’s not bad. But I want you to be really sure.”
Her hands continued their exploration of his chest and abs, tickling his ribs. He wanted her to say yes, needed to hear that word slip from her red lips so he could carry her straight upstairs to his bed, lay her out, and fill her with his throbbing cock, but the doorbell rang and he cursed, his head falling to her shoulder. She patted his naked shoulders with her hands and kissed the top of his head.
“I’ll go get it. I think you’re a little indecent to answer your front door,” she told him.
His hand held her thighs and he nuzzled her neck. “I’m not even supposed to be home right now. They can wait.”
The doorbell rang a second time and then a third as Natalie’s breathing turned to panting and he kissed the mounds of her breasts as he tugged the front of her sweatshirt down gently.
“Damn it,” he grumbled and pulled away.
She kissed him full on the mouth, leaving him with promises to continue this later, and hopped off the counter. “You should probably freshen up anyway and get ready for tonight.”
He watched her leave the kitchen, swaying her hips as she went, and he groaned, imagining where this moment might have led had the damn doorbell not rung. He picked up his clothes and rushed to the stairs as she reached the front door, chuckling behind her hand as he darted, half-naked, out of sight. He would definitely need a shower—a very cold, icy shower—to put him in the mood for spending the evening with white-haired old men instead of watching another Star Trek marathon with Natalie. As the water sluiced over his naked body and his erection continued to throb obnoxiously, he considered planning something else for them to do. A weekend away at the ranch would give him the chance to have her alone and let Natalie find some of her adventurous spirit again. No prying eyes to judge her, no one to watch her, and no one except him to keep her company.
That, and for some reason, the image of her fishing was extremely amusing to him.
He washed his hair and his body, but every time he blinked, he heard Natalie’s panting breath in his ear and felt her breasts against his chest, begging him to touch her. Her lips taunted his even now, and his hand slipped lower. He gripped his cock hard in his fist, and leaning against the shower wall with his other hand, he let his fantasies run wild of Natalie being in the shower with him. The past few times she left him wanting like this, he managed to think the erection away, but not this time. Probably because now he knew she was a damn virgin. His hand moved faster, and he groaned, seeing her spread out on his bed as he parted her thighs and slipped within her body. Hearing her moans turn into sharp cries of pleasure as he pushed her to the edge and sailed right over with her. Sated, for the moment at least, he washed his body a second time before shutting off the water and grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. He’d just picked up his comb to tame his hair—steadily growing longer so Natalie wouldn’t stop running her hands through it when they sat beside each other in the evenings—when a knock came at the bedroom door.
“Hey, Vincent? You decent?” she asked.
His cock twitched beneath the towel, and he glared fiercely at it. Once he knew he wouldn’t greet her with an erection, he went to answer the door.
Her eyes widened and slipped to his chest. Her lips parted, and she had to try several times before she managed to get the words out. “Ah, door. There was a man at the door.”
“Oh?” he asked, his lips curling into a crooked grin. “What did he want?”
She licked her lips, and he cursed mentally. Her gaze was still focused on his chest when she murmured, “A reporter…bit of an ass, really.”
“Reporter?” he asked, all teasing gone.
“Right, sorry,” she said and shook her head. This time, when she opened her eyes, they met his. “He said some weird shit and handed me his card in case you wanted to talk to him in private.”
“About what?” he asked as she handed over the card.
“He didn’t really say, but he kept looking at me and leering. He even tried to get into the house.”
“What?” Vincent was out the door and at the top of the stairs before she caught up to him, grabbing his arm to pull him back. “He’s gone?”
“Yeah, I shoved him out the door and locked it.” She cracked the knuckles on her fingers. “You don’t think he knows something’s hinky with our marriage, do you?” she whispered, sounding scared. “Vincent?”
He crumbled up the business card in his hand. “No, Billy made sure of it.”
“Damn it,” she cursed and hung her head. “This is my fault.”
“Nothing is your fault because nothing’s happened,” he said and drew her into his arms. “Don’t worry about it, all right? Promise me, Natalie.”
“All right, all right,” she muttered into his body.
He realized very suddenly that he was naked except for the towel, and her breathing increased, warming his chilled skin. His hands tightened around her, inching down her back. Her lips caressed his pecs and he considered scooping her up into her arms, if only to show her what he could do to her, but the doorbell rang again. This time, though, a key turned in the lock. Natalie disentangled herself from his arms as Billy stepped through the front door.
“Hello? Vincent? Natalie?” he called out.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he replied as Natalie, giggling, walked down the steps.
“Hey, Billy,” she said when she passed him. “You coming to dinner tomorrow night too?”
“Dinner? With who? Why wasn’t I told?” he asked and shot an accusing glare up at Vincent. His brow shot up to his hairline at his friend’s clear state of undress. “Was I interrupting something?”
“No.”
“Yes,” Vincent argued, and Natalie stifled her laughter with a cough. “And it’s dinner with Mother and her…date.”
“Ah, if you want me here, I guess I can come,” Billy said hesitantly.
“Oh, come on now, Billy, how much longer are you going to hate me?” Natalie pouted, and Billy floundered for words until she burst out laughing. “Come to dinner, eat the steak, and you’ll forget you ever doubted me!” she called over her shoulder.
Billy shifted his gaze back to Vincent. “She is a piece of work, you know that?”
“Yeah, I think I do. Why are you here? I said I’d meet you there.”
“Sorry, change of plans.” He motioned for himself to come upstairs, and Vincent waved him up. He had to finish getting ready anyway. “We might have a problem.”
“Oh? With what, exactly?”
Billy glanced over his shoulder, but Natalie was still downstairs. “A leak.”
Vincent’s hand froze with the comb in it. “About the marriage?”
Billy nodded, and Vincent realized how close to panicking his friend was. “I had a reporter stop by to see me right after I left your office. He wanted an in-depth interview with you and Natalie. I told him he’d have to wait in line, but the way he was smiling, it was like he wanted a chance to trip you two up.”
“Who would’ve told? There’s only, what, five people who know?”
“Me, you, Natalie, of course,” Billy said, counting them off on his fingers. “Judge Harvey only might say something about the name issue, but I doubt it. No reporter is dumb enough to bother that man. The website company, and then your mother.”
“And Natalie’s twin,” Vincent added.
“Her twin knows?”
Vincent stared at him with a flat look. “Really, Billy?”
“Right, sorry. The twin had the idea in the first place. You don’t think she would say anything, do you? Could she be jealous of her sister for landing the billionaire?”
“No,” he argued. “No, her sister is engaged already.”
“Well, someone said something.”
“Did you catch the bastard’s name?” he asked, glancing at the crumpled card on the bathroom counter.
Billy dug around in his suit jacket and revealed a matching card. “Hank Butcher.”
“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t pass him on your way in.”
“He was at the house?” Billy hissed.
“Natalie answered the door. She said he even tried to get himself inside.” Vincent tossed the card in the trashcan. “I think we might need to consider security guards if I’m going to have reporters showing up at the house like this.”
Billy nodded in agreement as his fingers flew across his phone’s screen. “I’ll get it set up.”
“Oh, and next weekend, I’m taking Natalie to the ranch.”
“Vinnie, man, I love you, but you have two events scheduled back to back.”
“I said I’m taking Natalie to the ranch,” he repeated. “I think it’s time we had a small honeymoon, don’t you?”
Billy frowned but gave in. “You see these wrinkles right here on my forehead? They’re all from you.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll pay for your facelift,” Vincent promised, and Billy groaned in annoyance behind him.
He wouldn’t worry about the reporter unless he showed up again or let something slip about the real story behind his and Natalie’s meeting. It wouldn’t do to start pointing fingers and accuse the few people who did know of ratting him out.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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