Complicated (9 page)

“I want a relationship. A real
relationship.” Greg’s face had been set and determined but now it wavered
slightly. He added weakly, “Exclusive. And…and long-term.”

It was his slight uncertainty—the unexpected
sign of insecurity in such a mature, confidant man—that finally convinced
Victoria this was real. “What?” she breathed, feeling a wave of something like
awe rising up inside her.

He must have mistaken her joyful disbelief
for resistance. His brows drew together, and his hands moved up to cup her
face. “I know this isn’t what you had in mind when you got involved with me.
And I’m not expecting for you to be in the same…the same place I am. All I’m
asking is for you to give me a chance. Let me convince you that we’re good
together in every way—not just sex.”

“Convince me?” She couldn’t seem to do
anything but repeat the words. Her whole world was reshaping itself into
something she’d never believed in before.

“Yes. I’ll treat you like I should have from
the beginning.” Greg pushed a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it in his
earnestness. “I want to date you, not just fuck you. Just give me the chance
to…to…” He appeared at a loss and ended lamely, “To woo you.”

Victoria made a choked sound—half laugh,
half sob. “
Woo
me?” She knew he was anxious, upset, worried she was
going to reject him. She needed to let him know the state of her feelings but
she couldn’t seem to find the words. “How are you going to do that?”

Her eyes were tender as she looked up at him,
and she raised a hand to caress his cheek, feeling the delicious stubble
against her palm.

He seemed to recognize that something had
changed. His dark eyes softened into a matching tenderness. “If you’re free
tomorrow night, I thought I’d take you out for a nice dinner. Maybe give you
flowers. You know. Try to be romantic. To show you I’m not such a bad catch
after all.”

He was the kindest, smartest, funniest,
sexiest, most wonderful man she’d ever met. She almost laughed at the idea of
his being a bad catch.

Greg’s face grew sober. “Baby, I know I
haven’t done anything to make you believe this. But I…I’m crazy about you. And
it’s not just sex I want from you.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes starting to
burn with the most poignant kind of joy. “What about Carrie?”

His lips pressed together briefly before he
said, “We’ll have to work through this. But I think it will help if I can show
her it’s a real romantic relationship.” He paused, jerking his head to the side.
“That is, if you want it to be—”

“Of course I want it to be!” Victoria burst
out, wrapping her arms around his neck. “How can you be so stupid?”

He stared at her disbelievingly. “Really?”

“Yes! I’ve been in the depths of despair for
the last few weeks, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I couldn’t go back
to just having sex with you when I was feeling,” she gulped, “so much more.”

“Really?” he repeated, a blaze of shattering
joy flaring up in his eyes.

She was torn between melting away in happiness
and sobbing with absolute relief. So instead she snickered. “Really. You won’t
even have to do much wooing.”

With an agonized groan, Greg pulled her
against him, his arms tightening with such force she lost her breath.

She didn’t care. She just buried her face in
his suit coat, breathing in the dear, delicious scent of him.

Of Greg.

Who was somehow hers.

“I’ll woo you anyway,” he murmured hoarsely
against her ear. “I’m good at wooing.”

She smiled up at him, fatuous and completely
sappy. He looked adorably rumpled and so sweet she wanted to gobble him up.

Victoria knew they would still have some
things to work out, but some things weren’t complicated at all.

She said, “You’re good at everything.”

Victoria sprawled out on top of Greg, her
breasts pressed down against his chest and her legs splayed on either side of
his. His cock was sheathed inside her pussy, but they weren’t really moving,
just lying together tangled in lazy intimacy.

She’d woken up a little while ago to the
feel of his erection poking into her ass. After some sweet, drowsy foreplay,
they’d ended up like this—neither feeling particularly wild or urgent.

She moaned—low and lingering—and mouthed his
jaw, brushing her lips against the bristles on his skin. He was always the most
bristly in the morning, and sometimes her skin was too sensitive to get close
to him until he’d shaved. But this morning she liked the feeling—the coarse stubble
stimulating her lips deliciously as she stroked them along his jaw line.

One of Greg’s hands was buried in her loose
hair, combing his fingers through the long strands in a gentle caress. The
other hand was hooked over the back of one of her thighs. His fingers stroked
the soft flesh of her inner thigh, very close to the crease of her bottom and not
far from where they were intimately joined. His touch was leisurely, almost
unconscious, as if he was just enjoying the texture of the skin there.

She could hear him breathe, feel his chest
rise and fall slowly beneath her. The hair on his chest tickled her breasts,
particularly her sensitive nipples—but the texture was sensual and pleasing
rather than annoying.

Victoria had no idea what time it was, and
she didn’t really care. She would be perfectly happy to lie like this with Greg
for the rest of the day. For the rest of her life.

When she shifted above him to stretch out
one of her legs, his cock adjusted inside her. She moaned again at the soft
tugs of pleasure.

“Enjoying yourself?” Greg asked, his voice thick
with sleep and arousal.

“Oh yeah.” She trailed her mouth down his
jaw toward his throat, humming in satisfaction at the rough texture under her
lips. “I love that you aren’t soft and smooth.”

Greg’s cock was deliciously hard, but the
rest his body wasn’t particularly tense. The muscles of his arms and legs were
relaxed, and only his belly was a little tighter than usual. “Excuse me?”

She chuckled and ran one of her hands
through the short hair on his chest. “I love that you aren’t soft and smooth.
You’re hard and rough and—”

“And hairy?”

Snorting at his ironic tone, she objected,
“You aren’t
that
hairy. Just enough to be yummy. I love how your chest
feels.” She moved her hand to stroke down one of his arms, feeling the rippling
muscles and short hair. “And your arms.” With a little shifting, she was able
to run her toes along one of his legs. “And your legs. And your face. And
your…”

There was a smile in Greg’s voice as he
prompted, “And my what?”

“And your cock,” she admitted, rocking her
pelvis gently so she could feel the substance of his erection moving in her
slick channel. “It sounds stupid, I know but you feel
real
. Like a real
man. Like I haven’t just dreamed you up in some sort of plastic fantasy.”

His laughter was low and husky and shook his
body with lush vibrations.

“I told you it would sound stupid,” she
mumbled, hiding her face against his shoulder and taking the opportunity to
mouth a kiss on the broad curve.

“It doesn’t sound stupid.” Greg moved his
other hand to the back of her thigh so that both of his hands were spanning the
soft flesh where her bottom met her legs. “I know exactly what you mean.” He
squeezed softly and didn’t seem to mind that there was a little extra fat
there. “I love how real you feel too.”

She felt so melty that she felt compelled to
say, “Are you alluding to my cellulite?”

He chuckled and his fingers explored
further, one hand stroking along the crease of her ass and the other rubbing
along the line where her inner thigh met her pussy. The moisture from her
arousal had leaked out around his cock, making the skin there slightly damp.
“No one has ever felt better than you.”

“Good answer.”

She leaned up to press her lips against his,
and they kissed for a long time, their tongues exploring the other’s mouth with
unhurried tenderness.

She rocked above him as they kissed, easing
her pelvis in soft, gentle pumps so she could feel him in every possible way.
His hands still played around her upper thighs and bottom—with an absolute entitlement
that still thrilled her, even after all these months.

Eventually, she could feel him begin to
tense up beneath her. And his fingers became a little less gentle as they
pressed into her flesh.

“Baby,” he said at last, tearing his mouth
away from hers.

She smiled against his skin. “Is your
patience running out?”

He had more patience than any man she’d ever
met. Every man she’d slept with before had wanted to start thrusting
immediately.

“Sorry.” He moved one of his hands up to
massage the small of her back. “I know you were enjoying just lying here like
this.”

“That’s okay.” She lifted her head to look
down on him with a teasing smile. “If you need to come, you need to come. But
you’re going to have to do most of the work this morning.”

Returning her smile, he adjusted beneath her
to get some leverage. “No problem. Hold on.”

She held on with her arms and her legs so he
was able to flip them over without losing the penetration of his cock. He
reared up on straightened arms. Then pulled his hips back and slid forward with
a slow, luscious thrust.

Victoria stretched her back and arched her
neck at the resulting sensations. “This,” she hissed, “Is pretty good too.”

He gave a few more long, skillful thrusts,
which felt so good she had to reach up and hold onto the headboard for support.
“Oh yeah,” she said shakily, as her body started to flush with heat.

“Yes, baby,” Greg rasped, his face
tightening with effort and pleasure. “That’s right. Are you going to come for
me?”

“Uh-huh.” Her orgasm rose up quicker than
she’d expected. She planted her feet flat on the bed and used them to pump her
hips against Greg’s thrusts to increase the stimulation.

“Let me see you come.” His rhythm
intensified, his thrusts growing faster and shorter.

She wasn’t going to quite get there like
this, so she snuck one hand down and squeezed it between their bodies. Finding
her swollen clit, she rubbed it in tight circles.

“That’s right.” Greg’s head jerked to the
side for just a moment before he resumed his erotic rhythm. “Good. So good.
Come for me.”

The tension shattered inside her and she
came with a loud cry of relief. Her body convulsed beneath him as he kept
thrusting against her contractions.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his eyes raking over
her body as she came. “Keep rubbing your clit. Come for me again.”

She did as he instructed, even through the
blur of her pleasure. And her clumsy massage of her swollen clit combined with
his jerky thrusts into her clenching channel to push her into another climax.

She cried out a second time but this time
her shout of pleasure blended with a rough exclamation from Greg—as his pelvis
twitched and jerked against hers and his face twisted in a hard release.

He collapsed on top of her afterwards, the
hot, heavy press of his body pushing her down into the mattress.

She loved it. Clung to him with her arms,
her legs, and her pussy. Tried to catch her breath and regain her senses as her
body was washed with visceral satisfaction.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered at last, her
hands tenderly stroking his smooth back.

“Thanks. So far it’s been a very good day.”

She smiled and wiggled beneath him, his
weight starting to become a little uncomfortable. “Forty-four today. Do you
feel old?”

“I didn’t until you asked me that.” His
voice was dry, and she knew he was teasing.

Giggling, she teased him back. “So not even
those gray chest hairs make you feel old?”

“What?” His tensed above her with a jerk and
tried vainly to peer down at his chest.

She burst out into rippling laughter, and
their motion caused his softened cock to slide out of her slippery channel. He
rolled over onto his side and frowned at her.

“There were just one or two gray ones,” she
explained, reaching over to point out the offending hairs. “Hardly anything. I
wouldn’t have even noticed had I not been admiring your manliness this
morning.”

He returned her smile, obviously pleased at
the compliment. And she was once again amazed that he was as secure and
self-assured as he was.

But after a moment he asked, almost
diffidently, “Would you rather I not be turning forty-four?”

She leaned over and kissed him softly. “I
wouldn’t want anything to be different about you.”

It was true. Most of the time, she barely
thought about their age difference. And when she did it was usually to be glad
he was as mature and well-grounded as he was. The only time it worried her at
all was when she looked very, very far into the future.

Her response seemed to satisfy him because
he pulled her into a warm embrace.

“So we’re on for dinner tonight with
Carrie?” she asked after a minute. The day outside the window was getting
brighter. She hadn’t checked the time yet, but she knew she’d need to get up
soon.

“Yes. She’s meeting us at the restaurant at
seven.”

“And she seemed okay about my being at your
birthday dinner?”

“She’s not exactly jumping for joy about the
situation but—yes—she didn’t even question it.”

Victoria squeezed him with her arms. “And
you told her that I moved in with you last weekend?”

“I told her.”

“And she didn’t get too upset?”

“I think she was expecting it. You’ve been practically
living here anyway for the last few months. She’s coming around, Victoria. I
promised you she would.”

Victoria knew he was right. It had been very
awkward at first—since Carrie made it very clear she disliked her father’s
girlfriend. Victoria didn’t like confrontation, and she didn’t like people
hating her so she’d suffered a lot of stress as they all adjusted to the new
situation.

But it had been six months since Carrie had
found out. And she was a smart, sensitive girl who loved her father very much.
She had to have seen how happy he was with Victoria. And Victoria had done
everything she could to be understanding and generous without pushing too hard to
get the girl to accept her.

She’d never dreamed she’d be in the position
of trying to relate to the teenaged daughter of the man she was dating.
Sometimes it seemed so bizarrely inexplicable she couldn’t believe it was true.

“I just want her to like me,” she whispered.

“She will,” Greg said, tenderly brushing his
fingers against her cheek. “Give her a little more time. She will.”

They gazed at each other for a long time—with
understanding, sympathy, and tenderness.

Then Victoria happened to glance back at the
clock on the bedside table.

She sat up straight in bed. “Shit! It’s
after seven! I have to teach a class at eight!”

Greg straightened up and peered at the
clock. “Is it already that late? I’m going to be running behind too.”

“I’m later than you are. I get the shower
first,” Victoria insisted, scrambling out of bed and racing for the bathroom.

She took a five-minute shower. She didn’t
wash her hair, but she had to at least soap up and rinse off to get rid of the
sweat and semen from their lovemaking.

Then she raced through her hair, makeup and
clothes while Greg took his shower. She had a longer commute from the house
than she had from her apartment, and she’d had trouble getting used to the new
schedule.

She was throwing on a pearl necklace—one
that suited the vintage silk blouse she had paired with a black pencil
skirt—when Greg came out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips.

He gave her an appreciative once-over. “When
you dress like that—all prim and old-fashioned—you make me want to bend you
over and fuck you until you scream.”

She chuckled and felt a little tug at her
pussy. She had no idea why her sense of fashion and wire-rimmed glasses got him
so hot. But it always gave her a possessive thrill to know that he really
wanted
her
—the real Victoria Ray—and everything about her. “Save that
thought until later. It’s your birthday, after all.”

As she spoke, she slid on a pair of black
and white retro heeled pumps and peered at herself in the mirror to make sure
she’d put on everything essential.

“I know,” Greg said thickly, stepping over
and brushing his hand across her breast, tweaking the nipple that tightened
under his touch. “I have all kinds of plans for tonight.”

Her intimate muscles clenched in
anticipation but she didn’t have time to indulge it. She just arched her
eyebrows. “I can hardly wait.”

Before he could respond, she glanced back at
the clock. “Shit! I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yep. Have a good day. Don’t drive too fast
and have an accident.” He’d gone over to the closet to find something to wear.

She’d left the room, grabbed her purse and
was about to head out the front door of the house when she remembered
something.

So she raced back to the bedroom and barged
into the closet, where Greg was pulling a blue dress shirt off its hanger.

She gave him a quick kiss and mumbled,
“Almost forgot. I love you.”

He chuckled in warm appreciation and pulled
the length of her body against his before she could get away.

He said, “Baby, I love you too.”

***

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