Chapter 22
Serenity
After we say our goodbyes, I’m sitting in Victor’s SUV, and my legs bounce out of control. They go in rhythm with my pounding heart. Now that we aren’t in a public space, everything comes crashing down around me.
The judgmental stares and words slung at us.
The intruder who trashed my house, a place that was supposed to be safe for my four-year-old daughter.
The scene of an almost nightmare if we had been there.
Had they trashed the place because we weren’t home?
Or because they didn’t find what they wanted?
It just doesn’t make sense. Who, other than the loan sharks, would do such a thing?
Everything swirls around in my mind, and I almost forget where I am until Victor’s gentle touch brings me back to him.
“Can we go somewhere quiet, so I can think things through before going home?” I ask.
Victor studies me for a moment. “Do you want to go to my hotel?”
If Victor had asked me this at the beginning of our “relationship,” I would’ve accused him of being a playboy, but now I know better.
I nod, unable to speak anymore, afraid that if I do, the tears will come, and I won’t be able to turn them off. He doesn’t push me. Instead, he turns the vehicle on and shifts into gear, taking me away from downtown Granite Falls.
Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into a hotel. I don’t notice the name of it or even the town we’re in, though if I think about it logically, we should only be about one town over.
Victor guides me into the large building and directly to the elevator. Everything passes in a blur, but I trust him to get me to where we’re going safely.
Once we’re inside the hotel room, he locks the door behind us and leads me over to the sofa. I lower myself and practically sink into the airy fabric. Even though it’s soft, it feels like it’s prickling my skin in a million different spots as if I sat in a fire ant pile.
A body lowers into the chair across the room. Victor’s soft eyes don’t leave me, but he also doesn’t say anything. I’m so grateful he’s not forcing me to speak. I don’t think I’d be able to get a single word out.
Jolting to my feet, I pace around the living room.
My shoes blaze across the carpet, probably leaving a trail of fire behind me.
If someone was at my house, they’ll be back.
There’s no doubt about it. And if they start following me, they’ll find out where we’re staying while in Granite Falls.
Not only will they find Sully’s, they’ll find Victor’s house. That puts Summer at risk … again.
Shit. I can’t even keep my innocent child safe. What kind of mother am I?
Movement catches my eye, and my heart is suddenly in my throat. I place a hand to my pounding chest when I realize it’s only Victor moving to the bar cart. He pours two glasses of an amber liquid before moving to me, handing me the liquor.
His calm demeanor grounds me a little as I take a small sip. The liquid burns a trail down my throat, and I savor it.
I’m not in this alone. We may be temporary, but so far, he’s proven he will do what he needs to protect us. I may not be a damsel in distress, but having a second person here, willing to do what it takes to get things done … it feels nice.
He didn’t have to go to my house to gather more of my stuff. Maybe he’s finally listening to the fact I don’t want him to shower gifts down on us like I won the grand prize on one of those game shows my mom used to watch.
Not to mention, he took me somewhere where I could break down in privacy. No Summer walking in on me crying for the fifth time. Time and time again, he’s shown up for me.
I glance up at him, and he halts, his arm partway to bringing his drink to his lips.
“Victor.” My voice comes out hoarse.
He turns his glass around in his hand as if he needs something to anchor himself. But just this once, I wish he’d let himself go, relinquish his control. Maybe I’ll have to take charge. Be the boss of the man on top.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for the zipper to my dress and slowly pull it down.
The gentle noise pierces the silent room.
His blue eyes darken a shade, remaining firmly on me, but he doesn’t move or speak.
I hold his gaze, daring him to tell me to stop—to say he doesn’t want this.
If he does put a halt to this, I won’t argue.
I’ll never force myself upon Victor. But all this time together—the kiss, too—we’ve been barreling toward this moment.
Even through my misguided anger, it was all foreplay.
My dress falls to the floor as I release it, and I step out of the pool of fabric in only my lacy bra and panties. Victor finally moves. He sets his glass on the table, slightly harder than usual, losing just the tiniest bit of control he usually has. I am affecting him.
His eyes sweep down me, taking in every stretch mark that still decorates my body. But I don’t shy away. I’ll never be ashamed of my warrior marks from my pregnancy.
“You’re utterly breathtaking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Considering he dated a literal super model, I can’t help but doubt his words. My earlier brazenness disappears, and I start to cross my arms over my body. Victor’s gentle touch stops me.
“Don’t hide from me.”
He loosens his tie, before pulling me closer, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Reaching around me, he unclasps my bra and throws it to the side. Little sparks zap at the skin he touched.
Even though I’m completely exposed, I don’t feel vulnerable. Any of my earlier insecurities are nonexistent as his hands roam over my body, not stopping until he cups my breasts. He pinches my nipple just enough that I arch into him as the sensation takes over, and a moan is ripped from my throat.
“We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” Victor rasps out. And even as he says the words, his hardened cock presses into my stomach.
He keeps his even gaze on me, waiting for my consent.
I reach for his belt buckle and undo it without breaking eye contact. “I want this.”
He allows me to undo his slacks but stops me from pulling them down. “Tonight is about you and your pleasure,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
A shiver works its way down my spine, and I nod.
He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. The movement, though it should feel awkward, is the most natural thing in the world.
Lowering his head, he presses his mouth against mine, and even though I’ve already drunk a little bit of liquor, his kiss is one thousand times more intoxicating.
If I could, I’d taste his mouth all night.
He moves into the bedroom with our lips still fused and kicks the door shut behind us. Then suddenly he’s lowering me onto the bed, and he crawls onto the edge. He peels off my panties as if he’s unwrapping a present.
I lie here, fully exposed while he’s still dressed. As I’m about to protest, he spreads my legs and takes in the sight of me. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve dreamed.”
His heated gaze flicks up to mine, and I release a whimper of anticipation. Squirming, I try to wait for him to touch me, but he continues to soak me up.
“Victor, please,” I say, hoping to propel him into action. But he still doesn’t move. “I need you to touch me.”
He growls and runs his hands up the inside of my thighs. I shiver again. “I’m sorry. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the privilege to see.”
Heat blooms down my neck, and I wiggle under his touch. No one has ever made me feel so seen, so desirable. Before I can say anything, his fingers brush against my entrance. He didn’t do anything except a little tease, but my hips instinctively buck.
“Please,” I rasp out. At this point, I’m not above begging. “I need you.”
My words must propel him into action. He pushes a finger inside of my pussy, and I close my eyes. Everything within my body lights up, and I moan so loudly I’d be embarrassed if we didn’t have the entire floor to ourselves.
“You’re already so wet for me,” he says, his voice husky. “Is this what you’ve needed all along?”
I nod, but my hips jerk again as he shoves another finger inside. He sets a steady rhythm, but it still isn’t enough. “Please, I want all of you.”
I meet him, pushing my hips upward to get even more friction. My head lolls backward as he rams a third finger inside. His motions don’t slow as if he’s trying to show me that all he needs is his fingers to get me off.
I-I want your cock,” I say in case he misunderstood, but he doesn’t slow. No, instead he increases his speed even more, and I keep my hips up so he can get as deep as possible. “Fuck, Victor!”
“My name on your lips sounds perfect,” he says as he takes his second hand and flicks at my clit.
I scream out. As he continues to play with my clit while fingering me, something starts to build up inside me.
Molten lava pools in my belly. And then he does it.
He crooks his fingers just slightly, hitting my G-spot.
I tumble over the edge, unable to control myself, and my orgasm comes slamming into me so hard I scream for an eternity—or ten seconds—but at this point I can’t tell.
Victor works his way up the bed, not stopping as the waves keep coming over me.
When I scream out again, he clamps his mouth over mine as if swallowing up the sound to keep it for later.
His maneuvers slow as my orgasm subsides, and I take a deep breath.
As my mind clears, I start to cover myself, remembering he’s still clothed.
When he catches sight of my movement, he pushes off the bed and goes to the dresser on the far wall.
He pulls out what looks like pajamas and hands them to me.
I don’t question him. As I’m getting changed, he heads to the living room. It almost feels as if he’s trying to give me privacy even though he’s seen me completely naked. His every move, every action is carefully considered.
Once I’m in his pajamas, I dive under the blankets, and a few minutes later, Victor comes back with two glasses of wine. He hands me one and turns on the TV. He’s acting so natural I almost question if I dreamed up what we just did, but the quenched ache between my thighs reminds me it was real.
We are real.