Chapter 6 #3
Victor tapped his nose, as if she’d gotten it in one. “I think Amelia was intimidated by my relationship with my sister. She wanted to be the most important thing in my life.”
Belle scowled. “She sounds like an insecure bitch.”
Victor raised his beer in a silent toast.
“I’m sorry, though,” she added. “That she hurt you.”
“I’m a tough bastard,” he said. “I survived.”
She wasn’t sure just surviving should have been his goal. Because by refusing to move on, he’d let seven years pass without opening himself up to love again.
Belle could accept the fact that she wasn’t the one—maybe, eventually—but that didn’t mean she wanted Victor to live the rest of his life alone if it wasn’t what he truly wanted.
Vivian had convinced Belle that her brother was happy being a confirmed bachelor, but the fact he’d bought a ring and planned to spend his life with Amelia told Belle that, deep down inside… he wanted more.
“You know there are other fish in the sea,” she said, in a weak attempt at convincing him.
One side of Victor’s mouth kicked up. “I’m done fishing.”
Belle bit her lower lip to stop it quivering. Because hearing him say that hurt too much, and her throat was closing. She looked away, unwilling to let Victor read too much in her face. She was wearing her heart on her goddamned sleeve at the moment.
Silence finally fell around them, neither speaking again for a full half hour. That was as long as Belle could stand to sit there, pretending like her heart wasn’t aching.
“Well,” she said, rising. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”
Victor stood as well, both of them stepping forward at the same time, the movement putting them too close to each other.
Belle should have moved back but instead, she looked up, just as Victor looked down.
She ran her tongue over her lower lip when his gaze drifted to her mouth.
All common sense, all self-preservation fled when she caught the slightest whiff of his cologne, mingled with the beer on his breath.
Victor’s gaze remained locked on her lips for a second or ten too long.
And then, just like that night on the couch, his hands lifted, reaching for her.
His large palm cupped the back of her neck as he pulled her forward, closing the distance between them.
Belle didn’t have a chance to consider a single thing before his lips were on hers, kissing her like a starving man who’d just been offered filet mignon.
She gripped his shirt at his waist, her fists closing around the soft material, as Victor’s mouth opened, his tongue finding hers. She swore she could get drunk from his kisses alone.
No man had ever kissed her like this.
Like she mattered.
Like she was precious.
Like his life depended on him stealing every single breath from her body.
Belle released his shirt, her hand rising to his shoulders, her fingers itching to feel his soft, thick hair.
They never made it.
“Fuck!” Victor barked, jerking away from her like she’d given him an electrical shock. It was his fingers that got to slide through his hair, though he did so roughly, enough that she feared he was pulling it out. “Goddammit, Belle.”
She blinked a few times, trying to find her bearings. He had a way of kissing her senseless.
“I…” she said, breathlessly. “I’m sorry.”
That was the biggest lie she’d ever told. She wasn’t the slightest bit sorry for that kiss, but she felt like she had to say something in the face of his obvious regret.
“Don’t apologize,” he barked. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just… This can’t keep happening.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why not, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Not that Victor was going to let her remain in the dark.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
She frowned because, honestly, she couldn’t drag her brain cells out of the lust lake they were drowning in long enough to think about anything.
“You think I’m afraid of relationships. Of falling in love because of Amelia.”
Belle had thought that earlier. “Is that what it is?”
Victor shook his head. “No. It’s because of Pip.
I won’t do anything to fuck up her life, the stability she has with you and Viv.
She lost her father before she was even born, for fuck’s sake.
She never got to know how incredible he was.
All she’s ever known is you and Viv and me.
We can’t do anything that might take that away from her. ”
Belle wasn’t sure how a person’s heart could feel two opposite emotions at the same time, but somehow, hers was pulling off the feat.
Because he’d just let her know that her feelings weren’t one-sided, weren’t unrequited, and that felt fucking amazing.
Unfortunately, at the same time, he was telling her exactly why he wouldn’t act on those feelings.
And his reason wasn’t a bad one, wasn’t wrong.
In fact, it reinforced why she was so attracted to him to begin with. Because he was an attentive, loving, wonderful uncle and brother.
“You’re not a stranger, Belle. If you were someone I met on the street, then we could act on this attraction, but you’re not just some woman I’m attracted to, who I want.”
God, those words felt good.
At least until he added, “You’re the woman who helped raise my niece. For God’s sake, you’ve been a second mother to Pip, and she loves you so much. If we act on this and it implodes, Pip loses.”
Belle blinked rapidly, trying to beat back the tears forming in her eyes. “You’re right,” she whispered, aware that Victor would rather swallow his own feelings than risk hurting that little girl. Which only made her want him more, dammit.
“She needs you,” he said, taking a step away from her. “We can’t screw this up for her.”
Belle swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump, letting her nod serve as her response.
Words failed her as devastation set in.
Because she loved Pip too, so much so, she would follow Victor’s lead and do the right thing with him.
Clearing her throat, she managed to squeak out a weak, “I understand,” followed by an equally pathetic, “you’re right.” She didn’t have it in her to push out the words “good night,” so she just gave him a sad smile.
Victor didn’t say anything else. Instead, he stepped aside and let her escape back into the house.
She climbed the stairs to her room, firming her resolve with each step.
She would give herself tonight to mourn what could have been.
But only tonight.
She couldn’t linger in that sadness, or she’d never find her way back out.
Locking her bedroom door behind her, Belle reached into the back of her closet where she’d hidden her vibrator in a box, buried beneath her shoes. The last thing she wanted was to explain a sex toy to a five-year-old.
Carrying it to her bed, she stripped off her clothes and climbed under the covers.
Twice.
He’d kissed her twice.
And those kisses had proven that there was truth buried in clichés. Because he’d ruined her for all other men—and they’d never even had sex.
Tomorrow, Belle would stiffen her spine, put them on solid ground once more.
However, doing so would require changes and distance.
She’d shift into professionalism, efficiency, politeness.
But no more patio time.
No more teasing or cooking together or movie nights or…
She drew in a breath, one that was laced with a sob.
No. I’m not going to cry.
She shut down her thoughts and let her body take over.
Stroking her clit, she imagined it was Victor’s rough hands touching her.
Closing her eyes, she heard his gravelly whispers in her ear, calling her Sunshine, all while telling her just how hard he was going to take her.
She tilted her head, pretending she could feel his mouth tracing down her skin.
Pressing the vibrator inside, she was shocked to discover how wet she was, though she didn’t know why she was so surprised.
Her body had shifted into overdrive during that kiss on the patio, and nothing short of an orgasm was going to calm it down again.
She turned the vibrator on high, not bothering to tease herself with the lower speeds. This wasn’t going to take long.
Thrusting it in and out, she fucked herself with the toy with a roughness she’d never attempted before. As expected, her inner muscles quivered and clenched within minutes. She started rubbing her clit faster, her body undulating in time with the rhythm she created.
And when her climax struck in a flash of blindingly bright white light, she arched her back, threw her head back, and gasped out his name.
“Victor.”