Piper Denna

Brett paused in his exit from the bathroom. In the flickering light of the TV, Vic sat holding the boy, her nose buried in his hair and a look of such striking pain on her face that he felt a tightness in his own chest. She’d grown terribly attached to Joey. It was a damn shame Roger had to be so efficient and find the boy’s father quickly. A few more days with Joey, and Vic would have been positively soft. As it was, her home was a veritable shambles and she wasn’t at all stressed about it. Having that shaggy dog around would guarantee her home would never be the same antiseptic place again.

Though Vic would likely bite his head off for it, he could easily get used to seeing her holding a sleeping child, with a dog curled at her feet. He smiled ruefully at the hell she’d hand out if he told her so. Indulging himself, he leaned against the doorjamb and watched her. Eventually she’d notice him and his little fairy tale would end, he knew. But as he stood taking it in, he heard her sob softly. This he could not watch.

“Vic, Love. Hey.” He was by her side in an instant. Startled, she looked up and sniffed back her tears. “Come on. We’ve another whole day ahead of us. Here, let me take him off to bed before he wakes and wonders what’s got you so upset.”

They’d opted not to tell Joey yet what would happen the next day. He carried the boy off to bed and couldn’t resist giving him a kiss of his own. Now for Vic.

She’d gone in the bathroom and emerged with her face damp from a washing.

He suspected she’d try to deny her tears. When he embraced her, she made an obvious attempt at staving off his affection, but eventually gave up the battle and melted into him. This was a new side of her, this soft and needy facet. He’d have sworn her tough-as-nails exterior turned him on most of all, but this vulnerability stirred an ache deeper inside him.

Mark’s words from long ago to not “try to fix her” reverberated through his soul, but it came as a challenge rather than a warning. He kissed her soft and waiting mouth, his tongue brushing past pliant lips. Her tongue tasted of tears. His need to make her forget grew stronger.

Letting her hair loose was the next logical step. He did so, skillfully removing the three long pins holding it captive. Long, shiny waves cascaded round them both as his fingers combed through. Her new hair colour was a bit lighter, a titch more sunny. He buried his nose next to her neck, at once smelling both Vic and her hair.

“Lovely,” he murmured. “Do you know how lucky I feel, every time you let me touch you?” He pulled back from her enough to see a shy smile playing about her mouth. When her green eyes met his, she chewed her lower lip. “Remember, Darling, that’s my responsibility, that lip-chewing.”

Her smile widened before he got a nibble. Sensing the proclamation of love on the tip of his tongue would make her tense, he held back. His fingers slipped down the hair again. “Let me brush it, Love?”

She looked surprised, but nodded.

He returned from the bathroom with her wooden hairbrush in hand. She’d taken a seat near the middle of her bed. Her legs were folded and curled to one side, and with her hair bunched together, he thought of a mermaid. Brett began brushing and heard only the sound of her contented breathing and the brush scraping softly along the tresses. Though the front of her hair was barely past her shoulders, the back reached nearly to the bed beneath her. Feeling the fiery locks slip between his fingers was purely erotic for him. He imagined her clothed only by the hair, and his hard-on became more insistent.

Vic was supple, not resisting in the least.

He paused his brushing to lean round her and take a long, gentle kiss. He saw resignation in her eyes when they opened. The fight was gone from her, at least temporarily. It may be guerrilla tactics to take advantage when she was weak, but he wouldn’t let such a chance pass him by. With her face between his palms so she couldn’t look away, he whispered, “I love you, Vic.”

His heart lurched as he waited for her inevitable protest. After one long blink, she nodded her face in his hands, then met his gaze again. He’d take it as a tacit agreement that she at least believed he loved her. The pain he saw in her eyes, he chose not to address. For tonight, he vowed to make her forget it.

Another deep kiss, tasting her sweetness and her salty sorrow, and then he was unbuttoning her shirt, palming one newly rounded breast. Her breaths quickened against his mouth. He was sorely tempted to make hard, fast love to her, but he held back. She needed more tonight; the love as well as the sex. When his own shirt and her bra were gone, he pulled her to his lap. One pebble of a nipple skittered and tickled against him as they kissed. The other was hard and puckered, rolled between his fingers.

Vic whimpered against him and arched her back. Her hands sought him out in his trousers. Smooth, groping fingers, tips of nails and the hard gold of that damnable ring she wore on her right hand all encircled him. Her thumb moved up to tease his hole, smear the droplet in slick circles over him. He kissed her all the while, wanting her to never draw another breath that wasn’t his first.

With Britt’s weight pressing her into the mattress and his thick cock sliding into her, Victoria knew she was lost. She’d let herself feel more than she’d intended to ever again. Emotion held her, buoyed her along. The sensation of not getting her feet planted on firm ground was at once euphoric and terrifying. The power of their locked gazes, combined with their laced fingers and his slow thrusts inside her, swept her away in a riptide of lust, love, joy.

Reminding herself yet again that she’d be ousting Britt once Joey was gone, a piercing heartache overtook her. Thus, the elation she felt when they came together and she secretly thought over and over how much she loved him served as a catalyst for a torrent of tears.

Britt was clearly confused by her crying, but held her close and soothed her. Wrapped in his love and warmth, she found no strength to resist him. One more day, or maybe two, counting the day they’d return, and she’d have to face reality. For now, she  had no choice but to immerse herself in this role, relish it while it was hers.

Falling asleep in his arms was like curling sleepily in front of a blazing fire while a blizzard howled just up the chimney. The cold world was out there, but it was impossible to comprehend it when surrounded by glowing warmth.

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