Chapter 5 #3
He followed Belle’s progress, listening as she closed the door and locked it before walking toward the living room. Obviously, she saw that the light was on.
She peered through the doorway. “Hey,” she said, giving him a bright, happy smile.
As much as he usually loved seeing that smile, the jealous bastard side of him was the stronger part at the moment, so he didn’t like it at all.
“Good date?” he forced himself to ask.
Belle nodded, entering the living room and walking over to drop down next to him on the couch. “Yeah. It was. Sean’s a really nice guy. Maybe a little bit nerdy,” she said with a grin, “but not in a bad way. Did you know Pat’s Pub is doing bar trivia on Wednesday nights now?”
Victor shook his head.
“We decided to stay for that after dinner. Sean is a huge history buff. I couldn’t believe some of the questions he knew the answers to. I swear if all the trivia had been history facts, we would have won.”
Victor nodded, trying to think of some response to offer that wouldn’t make him sound like a grumpy asshole, but nothing was coming to him.
Mercifully—and painfully—Belle was still flying high from her successful date, so she didn’t need his participation in the conversation.
“We came in fourth,” she said, “which sounds okay until I admit that there were only six teams.” She laughed, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Padraig, the bartender, told me to tell you hello. He stopped by our table a couple of times to chat. He’s so nice.”
Good to know Padraig had been true to his word. Not that Victor had ever doubted his friend.
“He’s a good guy,” Victor said.
“Sean and I both had the fish and chips for dinner, and they were amazing. He’d never been to Pat’s Pub, but he said he’s going back. Apparently, he and his audit team go out to lunch every Friday, so he’s taking them there next time.”
“Audit team?”
“He’s an accountant at a fairly large firm in the city. He moved here from Arlington after graduating from college.”
“You going to go out with him again?” Victor’s tone was way too aggressive, but tempering it was impossible.
A small line formed between Belle’s brows, and he suspected she was confused by his hostility. Why wouldn’t she be? It wasn’t like he’d made any claim on her or even given her any idea he was interested. He’d been working overtime to hide his feelings. Apparently, he’d done a good job. Too good.
Belle recovered quickly, shrugging. “We didn’t make any other plans, but he did say he’d text me soon, so I’m assuming that meant he thought the date went well too.”
“Did he kiss you good night?” Victor asked.
Jesus. Like that was any of his goddamn business.
This time, Belle’s confusion lingered longer. “I…”
He should take his question back, but the jealous beast was still running the show, and it wanted a fucking answer.
Regardless, he wouldn’t blame Belle if she told him to mind his own damn business.
Of course, she didn’t. Because if there was one thing he’d learned about Belle since she’d come to live in his house, it was that she was open and giving and honest. It wasn’t in her nature to keep secrets or put on airs or hold herself back.
She shook her head. “No. He didn’t kiss me. I think he’s a little bit shy, so I’m not surprised by that. And I was okay holding off on the kissing. I haven’t dated in a long time, so I was kind of nervous when he walked me to my car.”
“You didn’t want him to kiss you?”
Belle shrugged. “I mean, it would have been nice. What girl doesn’t like a good night kiss? But I’m fine with him taking it slow. It’s probably better that way.”
It sounded like Belle was planning to go out with Sean again.
It was that thought that overruled every brain cell in his head and led him to do the dumbest fucking thing in his life.
One of his hands gripped the back of her neck before he could think through the consequences. The other reached for her waist, tugging her across the cushions, closer to him.
If Belle had resisted the pull, had tried to escape his hold, he would have released her instantly, would have stopped himself before…
His lips met hers in a kiss that was too hungry, too rough for a first kiss. He wasn’t easing her into this, wasn’t wasting time by being gentle.
Months—no, years of tension ignited all at once, and the result was a total combustion.
He used his lips to push hers apart, his tongue swiping in, stealing his first taste of her.
Her breath was sweet and hot, her body pliant as he sought to shrink the distance between them even more.
Victor wouldn’t be happy until every part of her was pressed up against him, until he had her wrapped up so tightly in his embrace, she couldn’t escape.
Belle returned his kiss, her fingers slipping through his hair, her small hands closing into fists and tugging with enough force that his scalp stung.
The pain only urged him on, and he growled into her mouth. Their tongues tangled, and he twisted her head, deepening the kiss, drawing it out. She was so soft and tiny and goddamn beautiful. He needed more. Needed fucking everything.
Belle arched toward him, offering him more, the prey baring her throat as his lips slid along the slim column, planting kisses and licks and nips on the path downward. It was too tempting to refuse, even though it was reckless on her part.
Grasping her waist, he half pulled/half lifted her, Belle following his unspoken demand perfectly as she swung one leg over both of his thighs, straddling him.
The moment her pussy brushed against his rock-hard cock, reality crashed in on his head.
Because this was the very definition of fucking shit up.
One second, she was on his lap; the next, she was back on her side of the couch as he rose quickly, wincing at the way his jeans constricted his erection.
Belle looked up at him with wide, unblinking eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He was breathless as well—both from the kiss and from the panic setting in.
What the fuck was he thinking? Doing?
Dean had offered him advice, something to think about, but instead of taking his time and doing that, Victor had come at Belle like a ravenous beast, staking a claim that wasn’t his to make.
“Belle,” he said, his voice hoarse, gruff.
She remained where she was, silent. The living room had been comfortable prior to her arrival, but now, it felt humid, sticky, hot.
“We… I shouldn’t have done that,” Victor added, quickly looking away when the first flash of disappointment crossed her expression.
A strong man would face what he’d done, look her straight in the eye and acknowledge the confusion and hurt caused by his impulsive actions.
He wasn’t that fucking strong.
“Why did you—” she started.
“It was a mistake,” he said, cutting her off. Jealousy still flickered, but he couldn’t admit that. Doing so would reveal things to her that he needed to keep hidden.
“I think you staying here is blurring some lines that need to remain clear.” Saying those words cost him something, but he owed her at least that much.
This time, he turned his gaze to her face, forcing her to look as he schooled his features, hardened his expression, and lied his fucking ass off.
“It won’t happen again.”
Belle digested his words without response, and he could practically follow her line of thinking, simply by staring into her eyes. He saw when the lingering arousal turned to disappointment and confusion…and maybe a bit of determination. Perhaps she hoped to change his mind.
If she did, that thought passed quickly, because the expression that settled was both the best and worst one.
Acceptance.
“You’re right,” she said, clearing her throat. “We shouldn’t have done that.” She stood up from the couch, her hands clenched in front of her.
He hated that the easiness the two of them had shared the past several weeks evaporated in the face of his foolishness.
“I’m sorry, Sun— Belle.”
She shook her head. “No, no. It’s okay. We both just had a weak moment. It’s fine.”
She was generous to say that, considering he’d been the weak one. Not that he was surprised. One of the most attractive things about Belle was how steady and calm she was. She wasn’t prone to hysterics or drama. Instead, she took things in stride and offered forgiveness quickly.
Victor wasn’t sure what else to say. He’d made a fucking mess of this, and Belle was very kindly letting him off the hook.
“It’s kind of late,” she said. “I think I’ll head on up to my room. Good night, Victor.”
“Night, Belle.”
He watched as she left, listening as she made her way upstairs, then returned to the couch, sinking down heavily. Rubbing his eyes wearily, he threw his head back on the cushion and sighed, too wrung out and numb to land on any emotion.
Not regret. Not guilt. Not panic.
Even the jealousy had faded away.
All he was left with was one thought…one word.
One that he muttered into the quiet of the night.
“Fuck.”