Chapter Sixteen #2
His mouth took mine, silencing my cries as his body stiffened in orgasm. I didn't pass out afterward, but it kind of felt like it.
My brain was completely offline. All I could do was lie there and try to catch my breath. I let out a hitch when Vance pulled himself from my body, still half-hard.
Then he was gone, and I was cold, but still too overwhelmed to do anything about it. Water ran in the bathroom, and he was back, the condom gone and a warm, wet washcloth in his hand.
If I'd been thinking, I would've been embarrassed to have him stroke the cloth between my legs gently twice before tossing it on the floor. By the time I registered what he was doing, he was already done, sliding under the sheet, pulling the blankets over us, and drawing me into his arms.
I thought we were going to talk about it.
Wasn't that what people did after they had sex for the first time?
Maybe we were supposed to, but we didn't. I was back the way I'd woken up, my cheek on Vance's chest, my legs tangled with his, the soothing stroke of his fingers on my arm and tugging on my hair.
I listened to the thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear and thought about what I should say until I fell asleep.
Rosie woke us a few hours later. We shifted from our leisurely nap straight into panic mode when we heard her coughing and sneezing. Vance got to her first.
"No fever," he called into the bedroom. "I'll clean her up and feed her, and you can take the first shower."
I wasn't going to turn that offer down. Vance was still giving Rosie her bottle when I got out of the shower, so I took the time to dry my hair.
Maybe I was avoiding him, just a little. My body hummed with the aftermath of three unbelievable orgasms.
Literally unbelievable.
If I'd had any idea sex could be like that, I would've broken up with Brayden a long time ago. I didn't know.
I'd never understood how people said sex was better than chocolate.
Now I knew I'd just been having the wrong kind of sex.
I wasn't going to play the regret game with Vance. I wasn't that big of a liar, or a coward.
I wanted to have sex with him again.
And again.
Vance had been in control, and everything had been about me. The next time, I wanted to touch him, to explore every inch of that fucking fine body until he was just as desperate as I had been.
I wanted, needed, to make him feel as good as he'd made me feel. I wasn't going to start some crap about how we shouldn't have done it and it was a mistake. It probably was a mistake, but it wasn't one I wanted to take back.
Still, the analytical side of my brain couldn't stop asking me questions. What did this mean? How are things going to change?
The sex was amazing, I guess, but it didn't erase my original concerns. Just because the orgasms had blown my mind didn't mean they were anything different for Vance. For all I knew, that had been just average sex to him.
It was too late for me. I wasn't in danger of falling in love with Vance. I wasn't one of those people who could separate sex and emotion.
I already loved him.
Now this?
Eventually, he was going to move on. Right now, with Rosie on his hands, he needed me. He needed my help, he needed my support, and he wanted me in bed. It was the perfect arrangement for him.
For me, the amazing orgasms aside, it was a recipe for a broken heart, and I was walking right into it, my eyes wide open.
I was an idiot.
An idiot who still had to get ready for work. Finished with my hair, I put on some makeup, wrapped the towel around me, and went to go find my clothes. Vance and Rosalie were nowhere to be seen.
I'll admit, that was a relief. Standing in front of my closet, I chose a shift dress in a deep plum. It was comfortable but well cut and polished enough for work.
I slipped into the matching tailored cardigan and went to look for the bracelet I always wore with that dress. It had been my grandmother's, a simple amethyst and diamond pattern my grandfather had given her as an anniversary gift.
It wasn't a terribly expensive piece—the stones were on the smaller side—but the design of faceted flowers was whimsical and sweet and it made me feel close to my grandmother.
I couldn't find it. My desk at work could get disorganized, but I was careful with my jewelry. I didn't have a lot, most of it handed down from my grandmother, and I treasured every piece she'd given me.
Each one had a story, was a piece of her life, a memory of her. There's no way I would've misplaced so much as an earring, but the bracelet was gone. I checked everywhere, even my bedside table and the bathroom drawers.
By the time Vance came to check on me, I was biting my lip to hold back tears.
"Babe, do you want breakfast?"
I turned to him, shaking my head.
"What's wrong? Magnolia, tell me what's wrong," he said, crowding into my space. His hands were full of Rosie, but he held her against one shoulder and wound his arm around me.
"It's nothing. I just . . . I lost my grandmother's bracelet. I can't find it anywhere. I'm always careful with it. I don't understand how I could've misplaced it."
"Could you have left it at the loft?"
"I don't think so. I haven't worn it in a few weeks—" I cut off, trying to remember the last time I'd worn the bracelet. Everything had been turned around since Vance and Rosie had moved in.
The bracelet wasn't the first thing I'd misplaced lately—there were a few odds and ends that I must have rearranged when Vance and Rosie had moved in that I couldn't find.
Nothing big. A clock I'd kept in the sitting room. A small painting on a tabletop easel that had been in the guest room. But the bracelet mattered.
I could see moving the clock and forgetting what drawer I'd stashed it in. Not my grandmother's bracelet.
"Maybe you took it off and put it in your desk," he said. "We'll look for it. We'll find it. I'm sure you didn't lose it. You're too organized for that."
A tear trickled down my cheek and I brushed it away, annoyed with myself. I was overreacting. Vance was probably right. I wouldn't have lost the bracelet. It would turn up.
He kissed the top of my head. I looked across his chest to meet Rosie's eyes, the exact shade of blue as Vance's.
She met my gaze with a solemn expression, her dark wisps of hair mostly covered by a pink cap that matched her rosebud mouth. I couldn't help but smile at her.
Her feet kicked against Vance's chest, and I caught one in my hand, stroking my fingers over her soft, tiny toes.
"Are you having second thoughts?" Vance murmured into my hair.
I nodded against his chest.
"You gonna run out on me?"
I shook my head.
I knew I was making a mistake, knew I had no business getting involved with Vance, but I wasn't going to run anymore.
"You promise?" he asked.
I nodded again. "I'm just . . . I don’t . . .” I didn't know what to say, didn't have the words to explain in a way that wouldn't sound mean and accusing and bitchy.
"You're freaked out and you don't trust me," Vance said in a patient, resigned tone.
"Pretty much, yeah," I murmured.
"Not much I can do about that, Sugar, except prove you wrong."
I shrugged and kissed Rosalie's toes, unwilling to meet his eyes or contribute further to the conversation. He'd summed it up. He was either going to prove me right or prove me wrong. Time would tell.
"Do you have anything pressing for the afternoon? We already slept the morning away."
I straightened and stepped out of his arms, more comfortable now that we were on familiar ground.
"No. Everything is caught up. Why?"
"Why don't you take the afternoon off? Go see if you can get Charlie to play hooky, take her out to lunch. You've been stuck with Rosie and me for weeks. You need some time on your own."
"But what about Rosie? She’s still sick," I objected.
"You have your phone if anything changes, but she doesn't have a fever, just a stuffy nose. That jogging stroller I ordered came in yesterday. We’re going to put it together, maybe get some fresh air."
"You're sure?" I asked. He was right. I hadn't had any time to myself since Rosie had shown up in our lives. Maybe that was my problem. Maybe I just needed some girl time, some time away from Vance and his brain-clouding sexual magnetism to get my head on straight.
"Okay, if you're sure. I'll call Charlie."
"Go have some fun. We'll be here when you get home."