Yours to Keep by Claudia Burgoa

Chapter Twenty-One

Darren

Vanceand I decide to keep things under wraps. Well, he came up with the idea. I’m just going along with it. It’s about keeping things away from the town but mostly his brothers who like to tease the fuck out of him. They wouldn’t understand what we’re trying to do, and they’ll just mock the fuck out of him. So, there’s no PDA around town or anyone to witness our fake love.

Which, in a way, is okay. I’m not into public displays of affection. That’s for teenagers. Also, PDA goes against being casual. I’m with a guy no more than once or maybe twice before I call it off. This thing with Vance is tricky. We’re stuck with each other until he leaves town. I guess I should look at what we have as a positive thing. It’s helped me on the family front.

Mom calls me to ask how we’re doing. She hasn’t mentioned that she wants to visit us. I don’t believe that she’ll never set a foot in Baker’s Creek. I’m not that gullible. She’s just giving us enough time to get acquainted before she shows poor Vance the ugly side of Debbie Russell. Ugly might be an exaggeration. She’s just going to be on top of us, pushing us for an engagement, a wedding, and children that will never happen. Ever.

Something else that might never be happening is sex with Vance. I love oral sex. Blow jobs are great. Fucking is better. Do I love his mouth on my dick? Yes. I can’t get enough of it. He’s good with his mouth. The best. I think we do a great job of taking care of each other, but what about fucking?

Okay, I’m too frustrated, and it’s not just the sex. I had to go to Portland for a consultation. Henry flew me, not Vance. What the fuck is wrong with that?

“He’s too busy,” Henry said.

I want my man, I wanted to respond.

Today has been so shitty, I could use something extra. Instead of seeing Vance for at least ten minutes, he sent me a text saying he was busy all day.

It’s around ten at night when there’s a tapping sound on my bedroom window. When I open it, I hear, “Move.” As soon as I move, something big flies inside. Like an animal. A tiger. A bear. No, it’s a man. A foolish man.

“What did you just do?” I ask when I realize it’s Vance. “You know I have a door, don’t you?”

“I’m testing something,” he says.

“My patience?” I ask, staring at him unamused.

He shakes his head, grins, and kisses me.

“I’m testing if we could try something different.”

“Different?” I’m confused as fuck. “Are we role-playing? You’re a thief and…how does that go for you?”

He shakes his head and exhales, exasperated. “Yesterday morning, I discussed our arrangement with my therapist”—He pauses, shakes his head, and smiles like a goof—“I’ve discussed us before, but this time is different. I told him about our lack of sex.”

Everything makes sense, and yet, I don’t like what he’s saying. “Wait, why are you going to therapy?”

I don’t have anything against going to a psychologist. It’s good to know that people are trying to improve their lives. I’m the first one to agree that Vance needs help. He’s always angry, or at least that’s how he expresses himself. Through anger, frustrated grunts, and nasty glares.

However, I have a problem when the guy I’m seeing is talking about us with his counselor. That’s close to being in a relationship, which we’re not. I’m all for supporting him and whatever he needs, but he should keep us out of it. The next thing I know, he’s going to want a wedding and…I’m not that guy.

“So many things,” he answers. “My brother’s accident, killing my ex, and all the emotional bullshit I’ve been carrying for the past thirty-some years. Also, the only way to get the job I want is if this man says that I’m mentally stable.”

“So why discuss us with him?” I ask, concerned.

“We haven’t had sex because I don’t want to just fuck you and leave. He suggested I sneak you into my house but”—he glances at me, studies me for a long minute before shaking his head with disapproval—“I doubt you’d be able to climb a ladder, let alone the house.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“So we can spend the night together.”

I’m speechless. He wants to what? “That’s not the definition of casual,” I complain.

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, but we’re not animals. Plus, one time won’t be enough. I need at least all night.”

I arch an eyebrow, intrigued by this revelation. “Really?”

“That’s a promise.” His low voice is so fucking sexy, I’m forgetting that he’s breaking several rules.

“Wait a second. We need rules.”

“You’re right. Condoms?” He opens a pocket from his cargo pants and pulls out a box. “Got them. I also have lube, and…what else do you need?”

“Listen, when I said I don’t do relationships, I’m serious about it. This has to stay casual.”

“Dude, it’s sex. We’re not moving in together. I just made arrangements so that it looks like I’m home, but I’m here to fuck you all night long. Maybe you’re the one overthinking this. Should we just forget about it?” He walks a few steps toward the window, looking outside and then back at me. He’s waiting for my answer.

What am I supposed to say? No, I don’t want to have mindless sex all night. I’m not an idiot. Yet Vance staying in my house is unacceptable.

“That’s not what I said. It just feels too…domestic.”

“Domestic?” The word comes out like a question, and he almost shivers. “This isn’t domestic.”

“You visit with food or check on me every day, if not every second. It feels…” I’m not sure how to explain it so I don’t sound hurtful. I appreciate him, but I don’t want his attention in that way.

“You’re misinterpreting everything, but it also means I’m doing everything right,” he says, not making sense. “It looks like we’re in a relationship. That means that if we have to say, ‘oh yeah, we’ve been together for months,’ everyone is going to say, ‘Sure, I saw them. I never thought they were more than friends, but I can see it clearly.’ I’m living a dating print.” He taps his temple. “I planned everything.”

I stare at him, thinking about all the little things he’s been doing that freaked me out. He’s a fucking genius. Though calling that dating print makes no sense. That’s not even a thing. “Oh, I didn’t think about that, but what’s a fucking dating print?”

He shrugs. “I like to strategize, plan, make sure that I deliver. It’s like scattering moments where we look like a couple, yet we also look like friends.”

“It’s brilliant,” I confess.

Vance moves away from the window after closing it tight. My shoulders relax. This is precisely what I need to know that we’re on the same page. And here I thought he was about to propose. I watch him set lube and other shit he’s carrying in his cargo pants on the nightstand. He has a butt plug. Well, now he’s speaking my language.

When he finishes, I notice the wrinkled lines on his forehead. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” he responds.

I don’t want to be concerned, but does he think we’re serious and…no, I’m sure he’s worried about something else. Not us.

“Are you sure we’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, slightly distracted. “I think Mills is fooling around with the baker’s daughter.”

I cock a brow. That was unexpected. “How do you know?”

“I saw him kissing her.”

Well, that will confirm his suspicions. “You’re spying on your brother?”

“No. I was patrolling the area, and I spotted a couple. After they pulled apart, I recognized them. I need to figure out a way to stop them.”

Is he for real? “Hey, let the guy get laid. Maybe he hasn’t slept with anyone since he arrived in Baker’s Creek. That’s like a crime. I’d be hard all the time thinking about getting laid.”

“Are you insinuating something, Russell?”

“I don’t know. You said you were good in bed, and…” I shrug. “I can’t confirm.”

“You haven’t complained about my performance,” he says in a flirty tone so unlike Vance.

“I’d like something more than us sucking each other or jerking off before going to bed,” I tease him. “If you at least called me to Sextime...”

“Sextime?” He laughs. “That’s a good one. I’ll make sure to Sextime you instead of FaceTime you from now on.”

“So, you’re just trying this climbing thing or…” I trail my words, stepping closer to him and grabbing his hard dick.

“What if I’m waiting?” he asks teasingly.

“For what? For me to die from the lack of sex?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve had sex since Bennett.”

Oh, there we go, talking about serious shit. Casual sex doesn’t include discussing exes. I don’t bring up my…wait. I have to ask. “Did you love him?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Why did you break up with him?”

“I wasn’t with him. We were lovers. We had sex, nothing else.” Then he tells me the entire story, from the breakup (it was definitely a breakup) to…“You killed him?” I’m not sure if I should stay. The guy is two inches taller and has more muscle than me. He’s going to kill me if I piss him off.

He bobs his head. “That’s another reason I’m going to therapy. It was a choice, though, he or my family.”

“Obviously, after killing the man you loved, you have to…dude, how can you be so casual? I’d be devastated.”

He groans. “I never loved him.”

I want to pull him by the collar of his shirt and shake him because that’s not possible. “How can you say that?”

“You have sex without strings. You should understand,” he says.

I don’t know why I’m freaking out. Is he made of steel? Hollow like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz. This is some fucked-up shit. It takes years to get over someone you loved for so long.

Years.

“You were with him for nine years. Weirdly, you say there was nothing between you. You don’t seem too worried that you killed him,” I insist.

“That’s my problem. I can’t feel shit. I hate to feel. My therapist says I’m allergic to emotions. It’s painful to let emotions in and out of my heart. Painful. So I never let him in. If you’re ever worried that I’m going to catch feelings for you, don’t. I’m inoculated against love.”

That is so fucking sad. It breaks my heart to hear him say that. He’s a fucking catch. In another life, we could’ve been perfect. I don’t plan on loving anyone. Been there, done that, my heart was ripped out and pulverized. That’s different from I’ve never felt anything before in my life. I want desperately to fix him, but I don’t know what to do or if he even needs fixing. All I can do is reach out, grab the back of his neck, and bring him closer to me.

I kiss him, trying to repair whatever’s damaged. Maybe find his lost heart.

Vance

His mouth smashes against mine. An agonizing grunt escapes me. I don’t waste a second and kiss him back. My lips move hard and fast, parting his. My tongue plunges inside his mouth. The kiss is rough, passionate, consuming. My hands hold on to his slim waist, pressing his body against mine. I push him toward the wall grinding my pulsating dick faster against his. Fuck.

I savor him. Enjoy every second of this. Our first time. His taste makes me want to do more for him.

My cock throbs, begging for more.

I run one hand through his hair, his dark strands electrify my fingers, energize them with a current that makes me want to explore him for the rest of the night. Our tongues dance together while we both touch. I nip his bottom lip and then run my mouth over his powerful jaw until I reach the end and suck his earlobe, then lower back to his neck and onto his shoulder where I suck his tender skin. Marking him.

I want to brand him.

He’s about to be mine.

I glide my hand from his head all the way down to the elastic of his gray sweats. I cross that barrier and grab his thick, throbbing dick. I circle the tip of his moist cock with two fingers. As they’re wet with precum, I move them to his ass and thrust them inside his sweet hole. They go in easily. He closes his eyes while I move in circles.

My mouth waters at the thought of inserting the vibrating plug I bought for him. Fuck, my dick and my mouth water just imagining what we’ll do tonight.

“Bed, now,” I order.

I move him to the edge of the bed. He reaches for my waist and pulls me down with him.

I wrap my hands around his neck, tracing his jawline. He’s so attractive. I want him. I want to own him.

“We need to undress, or this won’t work,” I joke, taking off my shirt. He does the same. We’re almost desperate. Once we’re both naked, I pull him closer to me. His chest meets mine. His hard length touches mine. Hard cock against hard cock thrusting against each other. His body stops moving, and his hand reaches for my dick. He runs his hand up and down, squeezing it. I stroke my hand along the well-defined muscles of his back, savoring him, enjoying his tongue.

“Stop toying with me. I need to be inside you,” I say, shifting my body to the side of the bed where I left the condoms and lube. I grab a square from the box, ripping the foil and rolling it down.

I squirt a good amount of lube on my hand and push three fingers inside his hole, prepping him. I want to make sure he’s ready for me. I want this to be good and not painful.

“Are you okay if you’re on your back?” I ask. All my lovers preferred to be fucked from behind. I don’t have a preference on how to do it. I just want to make it good.

“Yes.”

I’m not sure why I like his answer. I prop his left leg, wrapping my arm around it. I press my length against his hole and push myself inside him. Slowly. Inch by inch. He flinches, so I stop. “Do you want me to stop? I don’t want to hurt you.”

His eyes flare with lust. “Don’t stop. You’re so fucking thick and long…I want more.”

And so I do as he asks and continue until I’m balls deep inside him. I don’t move, letting him get used to me. I release his leg, lower my chest, and take his mouth. He opens for me without prompting. Our tongues mesh in a tender, soft kiss as I thrust myself in and out. I grab his cock, stroking at the same rhythm I’m fucking him. Electricity runs beneath my skin. My entire body, consumed by his touch. His musk.

I’m about to explode. I’m so fucking close. “Come with me,” I whisper, thrusting harder, faster. His body thrashes beneath me. Everything in my groin is about to shatter. I cry out his name, pushing myself deeper. I shudder and thrash as I drained every last drop of me inside him, and fuck how I wish there wasn’t anything between us.

Our kiss doesn’t stop. It lasts a few more breaths. I want to stay here forever, and that scares the fuck out of me.

Should I jump out the window? Or just stop doing all this shit? One of us is going to end up hurt, and it won’t be me.