Chapter 12
The ride home with Charles had been okay. Not awful. Not magical. It was not nearly as distracting as she’d hoped it would be after the emotional roller coaster of that gala. It was polite enough to earn him a second date.
If she would actually give him one.
This had been Addison’s idea. Charles was a friend of her friend and was probably one of the best blind dates she’d been on.
But she wasn’t going to offer another date.
Charles stood on her porch. He was handsome in the amber glow of the light.
He was tall and broad-shouldered with that clean-cut prosecutor polish.
He smelled faintly of sandalwood. He’d talked easily during the drive about his work, Cleveland, and her project.
She appreciated how respectful he was when she’d turned down his invitation for drinks at his place.
He wasn’t pushy or aggressive.
Even with his smile and the way he’d held her coat for her to slide it on, he hadn’t stirred anything in her that was remotely close to the electricity that rippled through her whenever Vic just looked at her.
“I had a great time tonight,” Charles said. “Your work is impressive. You should be proud.”
“Thank you.” She offered him a small smile, even though her feet were killing her; she was dead tired, and her mind was mush.
He leaned in and brushed a polite kiss against her cheek.
“Call me sometime?” he whispered. He stepped back and smiled, then turned and jogged down the stairs.
Tachina slid her key into the lock and opened the door. She waved then stepped in. He’d been a gentleman and waited to leave once she was secured inside her home. She closed the door and finally exhaled.
She kicked her heels off in the foyer and wobbled as relief flooded her arches. God, she was exhausted. The gala, the compliments, the scrutiny, Sydney, Vic in that damn tailored tuxedo, looking like he’d walked out of a billionaire bachelor magazine…
She stopped and had to get herself together, because just thinking of that man in his tux had her brain short-circuiting.
She loosened the clasp on her clutch and set it down on the hallway table. Her makeup felt heavy, her gown too damn fitted, and she was burning up. She just wanted a shower, her jammies, and—
“Ms. Winston?”
Tachina started, flying around to see Kian’s nanny standing in the doorway to the living room. Her heart thumped dramatically at the fright.
“Alisa, you scared the crap out of me.” Tachina laughed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jump.” Alisa smiled. She had worked for them since Kian was about two years old. She went back and forth between Vic’s and Tachina’s homes in order to help care for Kian when they needed her to.
“How was he tonight?” Tachina asked. She opened her purse and dug in for the cash she had inside it.
“Oh, he was the perfect little angel. He fell asleep about two hours ago. He was determined to stay up to finish his movie, but he didn’t make it.” She giggled.
“Thanks so much. Let me pay you for tonight,” she said.
“Mr. Maxwell took care of it. No need.” Alisa disappeared into the living room and came back out with her jacket.
“Have a great night, Alisa.” Tachina walked her to the door.
Once she’d made sure Alisa was safe in her car, she closed the door and engaged the deadbolt.
The house felt peaceful again. The quiet hum of the fridge and the faint night breeze brushed against the windows.
She made her way to the stairs and couldn’t wait to go up them to get this gown off her.
It was lovely and she felt beautiful in it, but it was time to remove it.
The doorbell rang.
“Who the hell is that?” She froze with her foot on the first stair. Had Alissa forgotten something? She crossed the foyer carefully and arrived at the window. When she pulled the curtain back, she paused. All of the breath in her body escaped.
Vic.
He stood in under the porch light, still in his tuxedo, the bow tie untied and hanging from his collar. Of course the man looked devilishly handsome at midnight. His hair was slightly mussed like he’d been combing it with his fingers. His expression was enough to make her heart stutter.
She opened the door, her pulse racing.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
He didn’t step inside. Didn’t smile. Didn’t offer a small joke. His gaze just took her in. From the top of her head down to her bare feet before his gaze returned to hers.
“I wanted to see you.”
Every nerve in her body overheated at his statement. She swallowed hard and held on to the door handle.
“Vic, it’s late,” she said.
“I know,” he replied. He peered past her shoulder. “Your date drop you off?”
“Yes. He walked me to the door and then left.” She stiffened. What kind of question was this?
“I know.”
She blinked. How long had he been out there? And if he knew the answer to the question, then why ask?
“Are you okay?” The way he asked the question was quiet, and his tone was low, almost possessive.
“I’m good.” She nodded. “Thank you for all of the kind things you said about my work tonight. I truly appreciate it.”
“They weren’t compliments. It was the truth.” He stepped closer to her.
His gaze was intense and had her breaths coming in short pants. They barely stood a foot apart from each other. The air between them hummed with electricity.
“I was just about to go to bed,” she said softly.
His eyes darkened and were focused on her.
“Then let’s go to bed,” he murmured.
She exhaled sharply and pushed the door open then moved back. This was reckless. Dangerous. And she was not going to pretend she didn’t want it.
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He reached for her and brought her flush against his body. His hand rested on the back of her neck while his mouth claimed hers.
It was a slow, hungry kiss that stole every coherent breath from her. His other hand slid to her lower back and held her to him. She leaned into him and gripped the lapels of his jacket. He tasted of whisky and mint. She made a sound in the back of her throat, and he answered with a growl.
This was not the careful arrangement they had agreed upon.
This wasn’t schedules, or terms, or co-parenting logistics.
This was years of built-up tension that was begging to be free.
“Vic,” she breathed on his lips.
“What do you want? Tell me, Tachina.” His voice shook slightly.
The heat in his gaze was memorizing. She couldn’t turn away.
Instead, she kissed him again. This time it was deeper as they stumbled their way to the stairs.
They made it halfway up, pausing for him to kiss her neck, her jaw, the hollow of her throat.
She melted into him, pushing her hands underneath the jacket and tugging it off his shoulders. It hit the carpet with a soft thud.
He kissed her lips once they arrived on the second level.
“Let’s check on Kian,” he murmured.
Her heart squeezed in that moment. Of course he wanted to check in on their son.
She snagged his jacket from the floor while he entered Kian’s room.
He had slipped inside and leaned over the bed.
He brushed a gentle kiss to Kian’s forehead.
Their child barely stirred, murmured something, then rolled over onto his side.
Vic came back out into the hallway and closed the door quietly.
There was a tenderness on his face that stole her breath away.
A man like this?
A father like this?
How had she ever convinced herself that they shouldn’t have pursued each other years ago?
“Come here.” Vic took her hand and entwined their fingers together. He led her into her bedroom and shut the door. The moment it latched shut, Vic pressed her to the door and took her lips in a heated, deep kiss. His hands smoothed down her torso and came to rest on her hips.
“You looked fucking beautiful tonight,” he said against her lips. “I couldn’t take my damn eyes off you.”
“You look mighty good in this tuxedo,” she whispered.
“How the fuck do we get you out of this?”
She didn’t say a word but turned around to present the back of the dress where the zipper was hidden. He helped her unzip the gown, the sound thundering through the silent room. The fabric slipped to the floor and pooled at her feet. He kissed the base of her neck. A shiver ghosted down her spine.
“Tachina,” he whispered, his hot breath skating over her skin.
He made light work of her strapless bra. It joined her dress on the floor, leaving her only in her panties, which soon joined the growing pile of clothing.
Vics large hands came to cup her aching breasts. His mouth blazed a trail of hot kisses on her neck. Her head fell to the side to allow him more access. A moan slipped from her, and he massaged and molded her mounds in his hands. A pinch to one nipple evoked a cry.
“Your body…” He continued kissing and nipping at her skin. One of his hands trailed down her belly and arrived at her center. He dipped his finger into her slit and found her slick and ready. “Fuck, Tachina.”
“Vic,” she moaned.
He rubbed tight little circles on her swollen flesh. His hands on her, his mouth, his body at her back was overwhelming, but she wanted more.
“Say my name again,” he demanded. He applied increased pressure to her clit as he rubbed it.
Her knees were growing weak. She turned her head toward his, and he captured her mouth with his. He tore his mouth from hers and nipped her bottom lip.
“Say it.”
“Vic,” she breathed. She blinked and took in that he was still fully dressed. Well, that certainly wasn’t fair. She forced her way around, even though it caused Vic’s finger to be displaced from her pussy. “You have way too many clothes on.”
She instantly moved her fingers to unbutton his shirt.
She pushed forward, forcing him to walk backward.
He joined her in opening his shirt. He peeled it off and tossed it away They worked together to remove all of his clothing until he stood before her, naked.
Her gaze roamed over him, and a rush of desire shot straight through her.