Vicious Boys by Nora Cobb
Chapter Two
Vicki
While he visits, Dom sits near me with his hands in his lap like a freakin’ gentleman. We kiss, but then he gives me space. I make fresh tea, and when I’m through drinking mine, I cuddle next to him on the couch. Slowly, he drapes his arm around my shoulders, and I wiggle closer until my body fits next to his like a puzzle piece. My whole being relaxes until I feel warm and cozy like my favorite blanket. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this relaxed, as if all my problems have been solved, and life doesn’t seem so unbearable anymore.
When the umpteenth episode ends, I take the tray back into the kitchen and offer to make lunch. Dom follows me into the kitchen and immediately laughs when he sees the couch by the wall.
“Your dad is a genius.” He plops himself down on the overstuffed cushions, and they lift under his weight. “This is such a dude thing to do.”
“How do you know I didn’t put it there?” I ask, putting the mugs in the dishwasher.
Dom shakes his head. “No, this is a guy thing. The hand-painted girly mugs on a tray? That’s you, but this?” He waves his arms above his head, encompassing the whole side of the room. “This is definitely a guy thing.” He kicks his feet up and places them on the armrest as he stretches out with his arms behind his head. “Man, I could live on this couch for a month and be content with everybody.”
Dom looks so pleased that I’m almost a little jealous that he’s cuddling the couch and not me. I walk over and slap his hard thigh. “Move over some, and give me some room,” I demand.
He slides over, and I squeeze in tight beside him. With my eyes closed, I cuddle against his broad chest, and without thinking, I wrap my leg around his hips. My eyes fly open wide when Dom tenses underneath me.
“You know this is bad?” he asks.
“In what way?” I ask innocently, though I damn well know what he’s thinking. It’s in my head too.
“We might have to do something.” His response is deadpan, but he’s not kidding.
I shift my body over, so I can lift my head and look into his eyes. My Malibu boy is still looking back at me, but his nostrils flare as he takes in deep breaths. I take my index finger and tap his nose. Dom grabs my hand and places a soft kiss on my wrist. He doesn’t let go.
“You ever think about that day we went to the lake?” he asks.
I nod and squirm against him. “I think about it.”
“What do you remember about it?” he whispers and watches for my reaction.
Lowering my eyes, I swallow. “I think about how good it felt.”
Dom shifts underneath me until he can pull me up onto his body. His hands are firmly on my waist. Every hard muscle slides against my softness, and I tremble for another reason. I part my legs, so I’m straddling him. He smiles until his lips meet mine. I part my lips underneath his hot kiss, and it deepens. This is what I want from him. No promises of making me famous or powerful in a heartbreaking industry. I want my heart to be secure and safe. I want him to hold me tight, prove that he cares about only me, and not give a flying fuck about the money and the power. I sigh, pulling back, but Dom tugs me back down toward his parted lips again.
His kisses are soft as I press my lips hard against his. I want to do more than kiss. But maybe he won’t try again. Not after I’ve shot him down so many times. I wouldn’t try, but I don’t think like a man.
“What time is your dad getting back?” he asks breathlessly.
I smile with a naughty curve on my lips. Dom will never change, and right now, it doesn’t bother me a bit. I glance at the clock on the microwave, and I’m a little stunned that Dom’s only been here for an hour.
“The drive to San Francisco takes seven hours, and he’s been gone over three,” I reply.
Dom holds onto my hips, digging his fingers into my curves. “So, we have time.” He kisses me again, slower this time as the urgency recedes. He pulls away, and I moan with my eyes closed.
“I won’t be able to stop, so I want you to be sure,” he says.
“I’ll be right back.” I climb off him, heading out of the kitchen toward the stairs.
I hurry to Dad’s bedroom and open the door wide. My gaze covers the sparse room. Dad’s too busy running back and forth to give a thought to decorating his own bedroom. He cares about the rest of the house because I’m here. But his bedroom is just a place to sleep and store his clothes. I pull out a dresser drawer and move his clothing—careful not to leave a hint that I was looking.
Business papers are tucked away in the bottom drawer, but I don’t see what I’m looking for. Then it hits me. Of course. I go to the closet and find an overnight bag on the floor. Checking the pockets, I find what I am looking for—a box of condoms. I slip one out and carefully put back the rest.
I check my reflection in the bathroom mirror before leaving his room. Holy hell, I look a mess. My eyes are pink, and my nose is crusty from crying. My hair is sticking up as I pull my fingers through it. I don’t know why I’m bothering. It’s obvious my crybaby look didn’t bother Dom. My swollen face hasn’t kept him from kissing my lips. I wipe my face with a wet washcloth and toss the comb back on the counter. I don’t want to overdo it.
I returned to the kitchen, and Dom is as I left him, except he’s studying the pictures on the wall. His hand is reaching up toward a frame as he stares at a picture of Troy and me from grade school. It was before the addiction, when all I needed to be happy was to be outdoors on a sunny day.
He looks over at me as I stand with my hands behind my back. Dom smiles as he places his hands back behind his head. But the smirk slips off his face when I toss the condom onto his chest. His eyes widen as he grabs it and holds it up to check if it’s what he really thinks it is. Dom sits up so fast I jump back with a start.
His pants tent up when he stands, and I swallow hard. “Last chance,” his voice cracks, “I can jerk off in the bathroom. And leave.”
I fling myself onto his body, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. His kisses crash down on me, and I swear he’ll eat me up. I pull him closer as my tongue explores his mouth, and his enters mine. His breathing is guttural as he hungrily pulls me tight, pushing his hard-on against my thighs. I moan with need as my pussy heats up. Right now, I want to be his. I want him now, and then later, I’ll figure the rest of my life out.
It feels as if we’ve been making out for hours, though it’s only been a few minutes, and I wonder what’s going on. Dom always seems on the verge of taking me, but he seems hesitant now that I’m willing. I pull away and look at him. Slowly, he lifts his gaze to my face.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods and looks away. “I’m not sure if you really want to do this.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously? I went and stole one of my dad’s condoms.” I step farther back. “I want to do this.”
“You seemed really upset before,” he says, “I won’t be able to stop.”
I realize what he’s saying. We’re alone, and later, I can say anything. His father’s really messed him up good. I step toward Dom again. This isn’t about getting laid for him. He needs to be convinced it’s more. I smile at the uncertain look in his eyes. I never thought I would be the one in control in this moment. I take his hand in mine and place it against my lips. He has no idea how beautiful he looks to me right now. His emotions are hidden behind a hard, cold look. He’s sharing his fear that I might still reject him, and I’ll convince him that I won’t.
I step out of arm’s reach and pull off my T-shirt, revealing a ridiculously bright pink bra. Dom bites his lip as he watches me. He’s seen me before, but that look of awe relaxes me. I know what I’m doing is right. I reach behind my back and unfasten the hooks. I stand away from him, topless, and he licks his lower lip. That look of want heats me up again. I glance at the clock; we have time to take it slow.
“I took off my top,” I say in a soft voice, “Are you going to take off yours?”
He smiles that warm and inviting smile that reminds me of the beach on a sunny day. Dom grabs the hem of his T-shirt, and his muscles flex across his chest as he pulls it over his head. His body is tanned compared to my pale skin. The difference makes me smile as I try to recall if he has tan lines across his tight ass.
“You go next,” he whispers. And our striptease becomes a game like strip poker without the cards. I unbutton my jeans and push them slowly off my legs, down to the floor. With a serious look, he watches me as I bend over. I straighten up. My panties stay on.
“Okay, you go,” I say to him.
Dom undoes his fly and pulls his jeans off clumsily, as if he can’t bear them against his skin. His boxers come off in his jeans. He doesn’t bother to try to pull them back on. My gaze lowers to his hard cock, and it’s beautiful—the length and the width as it lifts away from his body. The smooth skin that leads to a tip that’s wet and inviting. I lick my lower lip and look into his eyes. I’m amazed by his self-control as mine slowly slips away.
“I want this to be special,” he explains.
“It will be,” I say, stepping closer.
With a timid hand, he reaches out and gently touches the curve of my breast. The nipple stiffens as soon as he touches me. His thumb swirls over my skin as he intently watches it rise to a hard peak. My breathing fills the silence in the kitchen as he explores the softness of my skin in his strong hands. I push his hand away and sit down on the couch. Dom sits beside me and watches as I push my panties off my hips and leave them on the floor. He sucks in air as he stares at my naked body, but I don’t feel embarrassed. His gaze explores me gently, and maybe it wasn’t too soon to talk about love.
While I kiss his lips, his hands caress my skin, tracing my curves until his hands rest on my hips. Slowly, one hand moves over my thigh until his fingers slip into the wet heat between my legs. I relax, letting him explore as we continue to kiss. My fingers tangle in his soft hair, pulling his face against my mouth. My heart speeds up as my pussy gets wetter. Moaning, I squirm against him as his finger circles my clit with steady strokes.
His mouth lowers to my neck, and I press my hips against his thigh, but Dom takes his time as if he wants to taste every inch of my body first. I close my eyes tight and wrap my arms around his head as he kisses my neck. I sink into a feeling that comforts my heart, soothing the hurt and healing the cracks. I moan again as his tongue traces the curve of my breast, and he takes my nipple in his warm mouth.
I hiss as his kiss trails over my tummy, and he shifts his body until he’s on the floor, his head in between my knees. He avoids my wetness and kisses my inner thighs, slowly watching me as I watch him. My mouth twists as a chill shoots through me, and I moan.
“You smell so good,” he whispers as he pulls his hand away. I shiver at the loss of contact but arch my back as his mouth makes contact again. His tongue parts my lips, and I feel his breath as his tongue licks slow up my slit. I grip the couch as my legs shake and he holds them apart. I stare at the ceiling as my body shakes, and I scream as my orgasm lifts my hips off the couch.
Hot and sweaty, I tug at his shoulders, pulling Dom up until our lips meet. His cock throbs, trapped between our stomachs, and I feel the need build between my thighs.
I reach down and grip him, guiding him toward me. He pulls away and grabs the condom. He fumbles with it at first, and I take in a deep breath. His lack of expertise in all things is reassuring. He looks up with nervous eyes, but I open my legs, inviting him in. Dom gazes at me tenderly and starts to say something. His lips part, and he breathes heavily but hesitates. He shuts his lips tight as his tip presses against me.
I guide him in and moan as he stretches me open. His hardness slides into me, each inch gently moving in deeper. I grip his back and shudder as the sensations in me rise to my skin. The slightest movement shoots pleasure into my body as I squeeze around him. Dom pants as his mouth presses hard against my shoulder.
He’s gentle, until I can no longer stand the wait. Dom holds still, desperate to hold on, but I’m bucking my hips underneath him. I ride him wildly as my body is caught up in a wave. With a groan, he pushes deep into me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I pull him into me deeply and hold onto him. He is perfect, and this is how I want it to always be.
“I wanted to last longer,” he whispers as I stroke his hair while we lie there, half on and half off the couch.
“It was perfect.” My lips brush his sweaty cheek. “But you can’t tell.”
He lifts his head and looks into my eyes. “I won’t.”
The sound of gravel crunching on the driveway rouses us out of our delicious haze. My head jerks up, and I turn to look at the clock. Dom has been here for over two hours. How did that happen? I leap off him, grabbing my jeans. San Francisco is a seven-hour drive—unless it’s my mother again.
Dom sits up on the couch and stares at me like I’ve lost it. “What’s the matter?” he asks.
I throw his jeans at him. “Get dressed. Someone is here.” I race over to grab my T-shirt and struggle to pull it on. I skip my bra, and running into the hallway, I shove it into the drawer of the side table in the hall.
“If it’s your mother,” Dom calls out, “we don’t have to open the door.”
He’s right. I should’ve been rushing in the opposite direction. But instead I hurry toward the front door and peer out the narrow window beside it. “Shit. It’s my dad!” I shout.
I hurry back toward the kitchen to make sure the place doesn’t look like it was hit by a sex bomb. Dom is yanking on his T-shirt. The used condom is on the floor. “Get rid of it,” I hiss.
Dom picks up the slick mess with his fingertips and stares around the room, lost. He’s never been in the kitchen before. “That door.” I point to the door at the back of the kitchen, nearest the deck. “That door.”
He hurries to the bathroom and steps inside as the front door opens. Fuck! His shoes. I grab them, open the bathroom door, and toss them blindly inside. Slamming it shut, I turn around in time to face my dad.
“I thought you were going to San Francisco,” I pant.
Dad looks puzzled as he looks around the mess in the kitchen. The couch is tossed up, and the air is humid with the smell of sex. I look over my shoulder as the loud sound of the toilet flushing spans a minute. We wait in the silence.
“Is someone here?” Dad frowns. “I don’t recognize the Mercedes. Did your mother come back?”
I shake my head as I hold my breath. “No, Dom came by. He’s been keeping me company in case she came back.” I shrug my shoulders. “So, no San Francisco?”
“I had booked a flight. I was headed for LAX when you called. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I don’t have time to answer the question before Dom walks back into the kitchen. My gaze travels over his clothes. His face is flushed, but he’s pulled together. He tucked his T-shirt in his jeans, and his shoes are tied. Maybe Dad will accept that I was a wreck and nothing else happened. Dom gives him a cheerful greeting as he steps in front of me. But Dad doesn’t return the smile. Dad greets Dom with a stiff nod, then steps out of the room.
Dom leans down and whispers in my ear, “Your fly is down,” he hisses.
Fuck. I look down, and I can see my hot pink undies peeking out. I spin around and zip it up as Dad walks back into the room.
“Dom, are you through with your visit?” asks Dad. It’s not a yes or no question.
Dom responds by nodding.
“Good,” replies Dad. “Dom, come walk with me to your car.”
Dom says nothing but follows Dad out of the kitchen. The front door opens, and I hurry out into the hallway. Something catches my eye. It’s my bra. It got caught on the pull and is halfway out of the drawer. Can’t I have anything go right? I leave it and look out the window. The expression on Dad’s face is stiff as his finger lifts into Dom’s face. He points at the house, making angry gestures. Dom has more bulk than Dad, but he hangs his head and occasionally nods.
I sigh. There goes my love life. I catch sight of my reflection, and I look like I’ve been thoroughly sexed. My wild hair is squealing on what we spent the afternoon doing.
Dom gets into his car, and I dart away from the window as Dad enters the house. I try to look innocent, but my wide eyes probably make me look guiltier. I take a deep breath and prepare for the lecture I deserve.
“I thought to myself,” he says. “Don’t go to San Francisco when she’s upset because you shouldn’t leave her alone. Not with her mother circling the house.”
Dad opens the drawer and pulls out my bra. He tosses it to me, and I catch it.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have called you?” I offer weakly.
Dad looks at me like I lost some brain cells while screwing. “You know what? A part of me doesn’t even want to think about what I know went on here this afternoon. I’m racing back like a fool…”
He stops when I sob, and a tear slides down my cheek. I’m surprised I have any tears left to cry. My face crumples as I sit down heavily on the living room couch.
“I’m sorry,” I reply in a pathetic whisper.
“That boy took advantage of you,” replies Dad.
I shake my head. “He didn’t. Dom really likes you. Please don’t blame him, Dad. I think he needs to know you’re okay with him.”
Shocked, Dad’s brow lifts, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “He said ‘yes, sir’ so many times I lost count.” Dad sits down beside me. “Vicki, I’m trying to take care of you, but you’ve got to start meeting me more than halfway.”
I suck the tears back down my throat. Dad’s right. I mess up, and then I’m surprised by the results.
“What happened with your mother?” he asks gently.
I tell him everything about the visit. How she came into the house and looked around. How her partner, or whatever Dennis is to her, came in. How she threatened to ruin my life again. By the time I’m through, Dad is holding me close in his arms.
He waits until I catch my breath before he speaks. “Vicki, come back home.” His words cause me to suck in air until it straightens my spine. “Just come home,” he repeats, “I’m not telling you yet, but it may be a smart choice for you.”
“I know you’re right,” I reply softly, “but at some point, I’m going to have to get my shit together on my own, right?”
He stiffens, and the comforting hold he has on me becomes a hard grip. Does Dad even realize that he’s squeezing me too hard? I yank myself away from him and look up to read his expression. Dad is staring at a spot over the mantelpiece, unaware of me. His thoughts are recalling the life we left behind us. The life that seems to have followed us out here.
“Vicki, one more mistake, and I’ll insist that you move back home. I’m not going to court with your mother again if I can avoid it.”
“I understand,” I reply nervously.
“Then show me that you do,” he responds, “Your mother is relentless when she thinks she’s right, and there’s no way to reason with her. She’ll always hate me for the divorce. And she hates me even more because my children picked me over her. She can’t comprehend that you and Troy don’t want her as a mother.”
“But legally, I’m an adult. What can she do to me?”
“Conservatorship,” he replies, “You’re an adult with a trust fund, and if she can prove that you are unstable, she’ll control your life. I’m not telling you this to scare you but to warn you. Your mother hasn’t given up. She wants you so she can control your money.”
