Vic Vaughn is Vicious by J.A. Huss

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - VIC

“So. Where are we going?”

“East,” I say.

“There’s not much out there in the east.”

I point at her. “I’ll have you know, this is the dairy farm capital of Colorado.”

She breaks a smile. Then an actual chuckle.

“You’re a tough crowd, you know that?”

“What you’re really saying,” Daisy says, “is that I’m uptight.”

“Daisy.” I side-eye her for a moment before taking my eyes back to the road. “You and I had sex. It was just one time seven years ago, but nothing you did that night in bed qualifies as uptight.”

“What?” This time her laugh is immediate. “Fuck you.” But she’s still laughing so it’s a congenial ‘fuck you’.

“Fuck me what? You were an animal in bed.”

She guffaws this time. Doesn’t even bother with words.

“Why are you laughing? I’m not joking.”

“OK.” She puts up a hand. “Whatever. I have very little recollection of that night, and I highly doubt you do either, but I’m a hundred percent positive that you are now confusing me with someone else.”

“You know all the words to I’m Too Sexy.”

Her mouth drops open. “What?”

“Tell me you don’t know all the words.”

“How do you know that?”

“Animal,” I say.

“No, seriously. Are we talking about the same I’m Too Sexy song?”

“‘Too sexy for my shirt?’”

“Oh, my God.”

“‘Too sexy for my car.’”

“Stop it. This is a fluke.”

“Is it? Or maybe you just don’t remember how you were too sexy for me that night.”

“I’m not listening.” She turns in her seat and looks out the window. “That did not happen.”

“What did not happen? What do you think I’m talking about? And if it didn’t happen, how do you know what I’m talking about?”

She covers her face with both hands.

“Anyway,” I say, feeling pretty satisfied. “Um. I can honestly say you were like… how should I put this? Too sexy for my bedroom that night.”

We both start laughing. And when I look over at her, she’s blushing bright pink.

“Don’t worry, I only told…” I pause to think. “Mmm. About three dozen friends.”

“You did not.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I wanted to, but you ghosted me. Which wasn’t even a word back then. And I was kinda upset about that.”

“What? Why?”

“I woke up, saw you were gone, figured, Well, that’s how all one-nighters go. But then I was like… I got her number. So I was cool with you leaving. And then,” I say—she tsks her tongue—“then I realized you broke into my phone and deleted your number.”

“I had regrets,” she says.

“I guess you did. And then?”

“And then? Then what?”

“How long before you knew you were pregnant?”

She sucks in a deep breath. And for a moment I’m positive she will shut me down. But then she says, “Like immediately. It was weird. I knew. And a couple weeks later, I was throwing up.”

“OK, I’m not gonna make a big deal about this. And no matter what you say, I’m not going to get mad. I just want to know. Why, Daisy? Why didn’t you come tell me?”

She looks over at me with an expression of disbelief. “Really?”

“Yeah. Serious question.”

“You’re… you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re… Vic Vaughn. And Vic Vaughn is vicious. In fact, I’m pretty sure your face was on a magazine cover with those exact words on them.”

“Yeah, but is that a capital V for vicious? Or lowercase?”

“Lower.”

“See, what the fuck? I’m not really a fighter. Well, OK, maybe back in the day. And there were all those times I threw with Spencer, but he was dating my fucking sister, right? I was supposed to fight him. And yeah, me and the twins got into it a few times. But they were a tag team, I had to put in full effort to win. So the jail time for that doesn’t count.”

“So other than all that”—she laughs—“you’re a completely reasonable, mellow dude.”

“Exactly.”

“Vic.”

“OK. Fine. I’m Vicious Vaughn. So you figured… what? I would get angry at you? Ghost you? Deny, deny, deny?”

“Yes, yes, and yes.”

“So you took it into your own hands and just… did your thing?”

“Yeah. That’s a good way to look at it.”

“What did your parents think? Did they hate me?”

“They didn’t know it was you. I never told them.”

I think about that for a moment too, unsure if I’m more upset that they never knew about me before they died, or that they died thinking Vivian’s father was a deadbeat asshole.

Finally, I let out a long breath. “OK. That’s all I really wanted to know.”

“That’s it?”

“I mean, I wanna see all the pics and shit too. All Vivi’s little milestones. I know about this stuff. I have nieces and that one nephew. Veronica has been talking babies non-stop for almost fifteen years.”

“But be honest with me now, if I had come to you seven years ago and said, ‘Vic, I’m pregnant,’ what would you have done?”

“Daisy.”

“What?”

“You used my dick as a microphone to sing I’m Too Sexy—”

She guffaws again. “Stop it! I didn’t do that!”

“You did. I was… what is the word for it? Enthralled. I was… captivated. I was all fucking in. Are you kidding me? This sweet little college girl called Daisy walks into my life wearing a milkmaid costume, bragging about her jugs, then comes home with me and rocks my fucking world—”

“Shut up! And you did not know my name was Daisy. You were calling me Peeps the whole night.”

“I totally knew your name. I just messing with you. And then after that I’m Too Sexy performance—”

“I didn’t do that!”

“You did. But after that I was like, Damn. This girl is a little animal. And so the long and short answer to your question about how I would’ve reacted to your news is this: I would’ve played it cool. On the outside. But on the inside—especially after you deleted your number from my phone—I would’ve been pretty fucking stoked to have trapped you into being my baby mama.”

She looks away and shakes her head just as I pull the truck over on the side of the road.

“Welp. Here we are.”

Daisy looks over her shoulder. “Here we are where? There’s nothing out here.”

“I beg to differ. You see those trees? That’s a riverbed. It’s dry, because this is fucking Colorado and that’s pretty much all we have here unless you’re in the mountains. But it’s still a riverbed. Which means trees grow by it. And that makes this a nice little piece of land. The perfect place to build a farmhouse. I’ve been looking at this two-hundred-acre lot for about three years now and I think I’m gonna pull the trigger.”

Daisy takes it all in. It’s mostly long grass, but on the other side of the riverbed there’s a large outcropping of rocks and on the other side of that there’s a hidden gully. It’s not good land for serious farming. But it’s nice for all kinds of other things.

Finally, she says, “What the hell are you gonna do with two hundred acres?”

“Hunt pheasant and turkeys. Raise Labrador retrievers. Open a dude ranch. Become the new Sturgis. Start a shooting club. Buy some cows. Rescue wolves. Make yurts. Who the fuck cares? It’s two hundred acres. Everyone wants two hundred acres.”

She looks out at my piece of land with new interest.

“You wanna go look at it?”

She glances over at me with squinted eyes and I know what she’s gonna say. It’s the same thing everyone says. What’s there to look at?

This isn’t Vail. This isn’t even Bellvue. This is the Eastern Plains. This is flat. This is grassland. This is… boring.

That’s what everyone thinks, so that’s what everyone says.

But Daisy doesn’t say that. She says, “Hell yeah, let’s check it out.” And then she opens her door and gets out of the truck.

And this might be the moment when I fall in love with my daughter’s mother.

Because even if she can’t see my dream, she gets it enough to give it a try.

I lead her out into the field and then stop and we turn in a slow circle. “Well, it’s not much now—”

“No. It’s amazing.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not. I swear. I love it out this way. My home, right? I know people like to live close to the mountains, but look.” Daisy points west. “You don’t get a view of that in the foothills.”

She’s right. The view of the mountains out this way is pretty spectacular.

“And you’re right about the riverbed. Doesn’t need to have water flowing to make it valuable. We had two dry riverbeds on our property and the trees still grew like weeds on either side of them.”

“I’m gonna put the house there.” I point to a clearing surrounded by cottonwoods.

“You’re really gonna build a house out here?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, I figured you were serious about hunting land. But what about the mansion?”

“Shit, that thing will always have people in it. I don’t need to be there.”

“Look at you leaving the nest.”

She’s teasing me and I like it. “You really did sing the Too Sexy song—”

“Stop it!” She puts up a hand, but she’s giggling.

“You remember.” I walk over to her, put my hands on her hips and push backwards until she bumps into a thick old tree trunk. “Don’t you?”

“I will deny it until the day I die.”

I suddenly stop smiling. “You remember every bit of it. You had me fooled. Sweet, sweet Daisy.” I raise my knuckles to her cheek and she sucks in a breath of air and blushes, looking down to hide her eyes. And when I sweep the side of my fingers down her neck she actually shudders.

Not sure if she’s interested in me or not, but also not willing to pass up the chance to find out, I lean in and kiss her neck. And at the same time my hands wander over her ass. She’s wearing jeans today. Just any ol’ pair of jeans. But she’s got on a tight tank top that shows off her curves.

She lets out a long breath when I take my soft kisses up to her earlobe. “Want me to stop?”

Her answer is immediate. “No,” she moans.

I didn’t plan this. Obviously. We’re standing in the middle of a field under the heavy boughs of some ancient trees. But I’m not about to waste this opportunity. A little nature never bothered me. I flip the button on her jeans and slip my hand inside her pants. My fingers slide right underneath the elastic of her panties. She gasps when I find her little sweet spot and I kiss her lips to catch that gasp.

“Do you like it?” I ask, both of us breathing heavy now.

She moans in response, which isn’t really an answer, but I just slipped a finger inside her, so I don’t take off points for that.

“You’re so wet,” I tell her. Then I feel her hand pressing against my thickening cock. She rubs her fingers against my jeans and I grit my teeth with want. She flips the button on my jeans and then she gets even when she slips her hand inside my pants, her palm wrapping around my wide shaft until I moan.

“You’re so hard,” she tells me.

And I laugh. “Daisy. Daisy. Daisy. You are not a sweet, spring flower, are you?”

She kisses me. And this is the girl I remember from that night. The fearless one. The one who knew exactly what she wanted from me that night.

She pushes her pants down until her jeans are around her thighs. Then she opens her legs as wide as she can, making the waistband dig into her flesh. All the while, her hand continues to jerk me off.

I pull my pants down too, just enough to let my cock spring free. Then I spin her around and grind my hips against her ass until she’s pressed up against the trunk of the tree.

She lifts her tank top up and begins to play with her tits. And that’s it for me.

I slide my fingers between her cheeks, play with her pussy until she’s super wet, and then I just slide right in.

“Oh, fuck,” she moans. “Yes. Oh, fuck yes.”

I lean into her, pushing my dick deep inside her as my mouth drops down to her neck. I push her hair aside and nip at the skin just above her shoulder. She hisses, but doesn’t complain, so I do it again and begin to slowly fuck her.

This slowness doesn’t last. She is eager, pushing her ass backwards against me each time I pull out. I wrap her hair around my hand and pull her head back just enough to expose her throat.

She moans again. And when I wrap my palm around the side of her neck, she actually gushes on my cock.

Sweet, sweet Daisy likes it a little rough.

I fucking love that about her.

It was a complete surprise that first time and it’s still a complete surprise now.

I lean into her, whispering dirty things into her ear. “You like it dirty, don’t you? Tell me you like it, Daisy. Tell me now.”

“I like your cock,” she says.

And I fucking die. These words from that pouty little mouth. “Say it again.”

“Your thick, hard fucking cock.”

My hand slides down her throat, over her breast, pauses to pinch her nipple, continues over her ribcage, and then finally slips right between her legs.

Her legs tremble when my fingers find her clit and then her knees buckle, and I have to lean into her, pressing harder against the tree.

“You like that too, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she hisses. No encouragement from me needed this time.

I start strumming her and she almost collapses. Her breaths are coming out in pants. Long, loud, heavy… hot. I bite her earlobe and she moans so loud, there’s a flutter of wings as birds take flight from another tree.

“Go ahead,” I encourage her. “You can let go now. We can do it again later. I promise to fuck you again later—”

And then she does let go. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” streams out of her mouth as she wriggles and bucks, and almost falls down. I hold her up, letting her take her time. Then I pull out, spin her around, push her to her knees and then she whips her shirt over her head, unfastens her bra, and cups her tits in her hands as she stares up at me with low, lazy eyes.

I come on her. And she rubs her hands all over it.

This is most definitely the moment when I fall in lust with my daughter’s mother.

I fall to my knees when I’m done, then take my shirt off and clean her up. She’s leaning against the tree with her eyes closed, her pants still halfway down her legs.

And I want to fuck her all over again.

So I do.