34. Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
— SOMETIMES BY ARIANA GRANDE
It’s been way too quiet the past few weeks, and I’ve barely slept soundly knowing that any day, the other shoe could drop when we’re not ready.
Bree and I have been enjoying each other's company lately, but the two of us have this nagging feeling that something is hanging over our heads. She still has nightmares, and even though they’ve diminished in frequency, they seem worse every time.
The other night, she shot up screaming so badly that I thought she was physically hurt. It turned out she thought Ralph killed all of us and left her to deal with the fallout.
It fucking guts me that I can’t take her pain away. The one thing I know for sure is that if I see Ralph, only one of us is leaving alive, and it’ll be me.
That fucker won’t be breathing by the time I’m done with him.
But that’s exactly why I’m currently doing what I’m doing. I wanted to show Bree that just because times are tense doesn’t mean we can’t have moments to ourselves.
I’m only making her dinner, but I wanted tonight to be special, so I’m also attempting to make chocolate-covered strawberries. She must have some sort of magical touch when it comes to these things because I cannot get the damn strawberries to stay on the skewers.
“Shit!” I say as another one falls into the pot of chocolate.
“Boss? Is everything okay?” Emerson asks me as he floats into the room.
“How the fuck does she make this look so easy?”
He only furrows his brows at me. “Uhh…”
“I’m trying to make Bree’s favorite dessert, but I can’t fucking figure it out.”
Emerson walks over to the kitchen island and leans against it. “Do you need some help?”
“Yes, but wash your hands first.” I point at the sink with a skewer, and he heads over.
A few seconds later, the two of us are at work, Emerson is dipping strawberries, and I’m stirring pasta. It pisses me off that he is able to get them to stay on and not me. Is it because of how big my hands are? All I wanted to do was make something for Bree to cheer her up, and I couldn’t even do that without needing help.
Emerson and I work in silence for a few minutes until I hear Bree descend the stairs, and everything isn't set up yet. Shit .
Her blonde hair is the first thing I see. When I notice what she’s wearing—a black minidress, matching heels, and a big ass bow in her hair—my heart stops beating. “Hey guys! Something smelled good, so I hung up with Liv early. Can I help?”
Without taking my eyes off the girl who is somehow mine, I speak. “Emerson, get out.”
The second I hear the door shut, I rush her.
“You look absolutely beautiful, but I told you we were just doing a night in. ”
“Liv told me to wear something cute, so I threw an outfit together. It only took like fifteen minutes, and I'm wearing your favorite color…” She trails off, her face turning pink.
I press a kiss to her lips. “I’ve already told you that my favorite color is the pink of your cheeks when I make you blush. And you wear that rather beautifully, too.” I pull one of the kitchen chairs out for her and motion for her to sit down. “I’m almost done. Just sit and relax while I plate this stuff.”
“Are you sure you don't need—” Bree tries to get up, but I stop her.
“Angel, I’ve got it. Just relax, okay?” She nods, and I can’t help what slips out. “Good girl.”
I can almost hear her cheeks flush as I turn to stir the pasta. A few minutes later, Bree turns on some music, and it plays softly in the background as I strain the food. I plate it, not beautifully, but when I sit down next to Bree, her smile lights up the entire room.
Making Bree Hart smile is one of my favorite things to do. Since I’ve known her, all she’s done is retreat inside her head. Being able to see that fucking smile means she’s out of her head and living in the moment.
“Thank you,” she says as I pour her some water. “This looks great.”
“It’s one of the only things I know how to make. Aria used to make it all the time.” I smile at the memories of Aria trying to help me study while she almost burned the house down.
“You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but what was it like when you were younger? I feel like you never really talk about your childhood.”
“Well, it was a long time ago. I am thirty-four years old, so I guess it feels like forever ago at this point.”
Bree tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s okay, Vince, I—”
“No, baby, it’s fine. I don't mind,” I tell her as I grab her hand resting on the table. “I had a good childhood. My family was like any other normal family, I guess. My parents worked for a non-profit together, and they loved making a difference in our community.”
“That’s nice.” Bree smiles at me. “Where did you grow up?”
“Seattle. Really rainy place, and I don't regret leaving, because I’m not the biggest fan of the rain. Aria still lives there, so I go visit her every so often.”
“I love the rain. It’s perfect reading weather.” Bree smiles at me as I take a bite of the pasta. It tastes just how I remember it, and I love the way that so many different things can hold memories for a person.
“You know, you’ve never actually told me what your favorite book is. I’ve seen you reading a million things over the years, but I never knew which was your favorite.”
“It’s a hard question, Vince.” She pauses to take a bite and practically moans into her fork. I have to bite my lip, because I didn't do this just to have us end up in bed together.
When it comes to anything physical, Bree has all the power, and even that makes my dick hard. I like watching her take control and beg me for what she wants—what she needs.
“This is so good. It’s been a long time since someone other than Liv and Tristan have cooked for me.”
“Don’t expect it too often. I’m not the best chef, but I can follow a recipe. Though Emerson did have to help me with the strawberries and chocolate.”
“So that’s why he was here earlier. You couldn't figure out the skewers, could you?” Bree smirks, noting my struggles before I even voiced them.
“No, and I think you have magical powers because you make it look easy.”
“You can’t stab a simple strawberry, Vince? My big, strong boyfriend can’t stab a fruit with a skewer?” Bree is full on laughing in her chair, and I’m almost afraid she’s going to fall out of it .
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it out. You’ve officially found something I can’t do.”
“I’m totally going to call TMZ or something. This will be on the front page by tomorrow.”
I roll my eyes at her, and for the rest of the dinner, the two of us trade stories back and forth. It’s nice—being able to let go and just be myself. I don't have to always be on around Bree, and I can turn the bodyguard part of myself off when it’s just us.
I’m still a protective son of a bitch, but the only thing I care about is making her happy. I want all her smiles, all her laughs, and every shy smile when she thinks I don't notice she’s turned on.
She was practically moaning around her fork all through dinner. Every time she’d do it, she would look for my reaction, which is how I knew she was turned on.
“You know, you still haven't told me your favorite book,” I say as I take our plates to the sink, and Bree trails behind me. I start washing, and Bree has a towel, so when I hand her the plate, she dries.
It’s so normal, and I know she’s appreciating every second of tonight because she doesn't get a lot of these moments in her life. And it’s my job to make sure that, despite everything going on, she’s still able to remember she can be a normal girl sometimes, not just a social media personality.
“If I had to pick, it would be an entire series. It’s got one of the best fictional families ever, and I could reread the second book for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.”
“So, found family is your favorite trope?”
Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. “Yes, but how did you know that?”
“You and Teags get forty octaves higher when you talk about the books you've read. I heard you guys one day when I was in my office.”
Bree only giggles. “Ah, that makes sense.”
We spend a few more minutes cleaning up, and when we’re done, I pull the strawberries and chocolate out for her. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Vince, I hate surprises, and the dinner was enough of a treat.” Bree plays with part of the bow that hangs from her hair before I set a small black box in front of her.
“Open it, angel.”
“Vince—”
“Bree,” I say as I open it for her. I don't know why this girl is so weird about accepting gifts, but once she sees what it is, her mouth drops open.
“Touch bracelets?”
“You’ve seen them before?”
“Yeah, just online, but why did you get me these?”
“It’s technically for both of us. Now we have matching bracelets,” I tell her as I slip it onto her wrist. “I figured we could use them in public. It kills me sometimes that I can’t grab you and kiss you, but I can send you a message through this so you know I’m thinking about you.”
Her eyes get a bit misty. “This is perfect, Vince. I’m sorry I can’t parade you around in public, but as—”
I stop her unnecessary apology with a kiss. “Angel, I don’t need the entire world to know about us. The only thing that matters is that we know it and the people who love us know it, okay? We could be a secret forever, and I’d still be the luckiest man on the entire fucking planet.”
“I’d never keep you a secret for that long. Once this is all over, you’ll be annoyed with how many pictures I take of us.” She grabs my face and kisses me again, only this time, she slips her tongue into my mouth, and I wrap my arms around her so I can pull her closer.
“Bree, we still have dessert,” I tell her as I pull away.
“I want a different dessert right now,” she tells me as she hops onto the counter, pushing the bowl of strawberries and chocolate away. “I want you, Vince. All of you. ”
Is she saying what I think she is? “You do?”
“Yes,” she says as she lifts her dress up. “I thought it was obvious when I came down here with no underwear on.”
Jesus fucking Christ. I have to stop my mouth from watering as I look at her bare pussy underneath her dress. “Well, I need my dessert first, don't I?”
“Wh—” is all she can say before I hike her dress up and lick her entire pussy in one swipe. God, I could do this all fucking day. The sweet taste of her makes my dick twitch against my jeans, and as she lays against the counter, I grab her thighs and move her towards my face.
“You walked down here like this? You’re a bad fucking girl, Bree,” I say as I snake two of my fingers up to her mouth. “Suck. Get them nice and wet for me, baby.”
I only hear a strangled moan, but she does what I ask like the good girl she is. My fingers are slick when I take them back, and then I push both of them into her pussy while my mouth works her clit.
“Fuck! Vince,” is all she can say before her moans and pants take over.
My tongue is lapping at her clit, my fingers thrusting in and out of her, and I don’t let up until she comes all over my hand. I lick my fingers clean, still craving the taste of her even though my face was just buried in her sweet cunt.
Bree’s orgasm haze diminishes after a few seconds, and even on her shaky legs, she hops off the counter and gets on her knees.
Oh, fuck. “My turn,” she says as she reaches for the buttons of my jeans. Before she does it right here, I pick her up off the floor and throw her over my shoulder. I don't bother to pull her dress down, but when she starts to complain, I smack her ass.
Hard.
Her squirming on my shoulder and pressing her legs together lets me know she liked it, so I do it again.
“If you’re going to get on your knees for me, I want you on your knees in my bed, where nobody can walk in on us.”
“But—” I shut her up with a hard smack to her ass.
“And if I’m fucking you for the first time, I want it to be in a soft bed so you’re comfortable.”
“Aww, that’s nice,” is all she says behind my back.
“Trust me, angel, there’s nothing nice about what we’re about to do.”