Lust on the Rocks (12 page)

Read Lust on the Rocks Online

Authors: Dianne Venetta

Unable to take his eyes off her, he slid off the bed and yanked his buckle open.  “Are you protected?”

“I am.”

He removed his jeans, shoes—everything—whereby neither of them moved, only stared.  Eyes affixed to her panties, Vic climbed back onto the bed and peeled them off.  “Damn...” his voice fell away.  “You sure you don’t want me to use anything?”

Sam nodded.  “I’m sure.”

Vic slid his hand up and along her thigh before slipping a finger inside whereby he groaned.  “You are
so
wet.”

“I am
so
ready.”

Both understood they were crossing the point of no return.  It was an agreement flowing between them in unspoken dialogue.  They weren’t coworkers anymore, they were lovers.  And when Vic entered her, the door to their old relationship closed.

This connection would now take precedent, above all others.  “
Oh my
...”  She moaned at the immense pressure, both inside and out as his full weight pressed down on her.  Her nails dug into his back as he pushed deeper and she laced her legs through his.

“You feel so good, Sam...”  He dropped his head against her shoulder and moved his hips firmly against her body.  His motions were slow at first, but rising to his elbows, he gathered speed and found his rhythm.

She closed her eyes, anticipation and actuality fusing into one as her insides adjusted to him, relaxing and contracting in intense physical pleasure.  It was a moment in time unmatched.  Rivaled yes, but there was only one first time.  One instant when exhilarating state of anti-cipation met with searing touch of flesh, expectation and fantasy merging in the heady beginning of new sexual relations.

As Vic rocked her body to and fro, this was a moment she would remember forever.

Chapter Nine

Vic’s body gradually began to wake.  Tangled in soft cotton sheets, Sam’s warm head nestled in the crook of his neck, he lightly stroked her hair.  Beneath the curtains, sunlight stole in and gently illuminated his surroundings; Sam’s bedroom.  This was her private domain and his first glimpse into the woman herself.

Overhead, the sleek blades of a paddle fan cooled their bodies while the light blankets from her bed lay crumpled in a heap on the floor.  Above the doors leading out to the balcony were several free-form sculptures, what appeared to be heavenly beings in mid-flight and painted in iridescent shades of blue.

Despite the bright moonlight last night, he hadn’t noticed them.  Or the strange mural covering the wall to his right. Was that some kind of foreign symbolism or something?

Having no clue and not interested in wasting another thought on it, Vic relinquished Sam’s silken waves and trailed a finger along the curve of her hip.  He smiled as she stirred.  As he moved down her thigh, she rolled to her back, her arm falling to the side.  Vic liked that about her.  Without fail, Sam was open and willing and ready to go.

Head propped up against the pillows, admiring the dips and swells of her body, he drew his finger back up the crest of her rib cage, then detoured around the soft fall of her breast.  Her beautiful perfectly formed breast. Sam wasn’t cheerleader perfection, or model-slim, but she was good-looking all the same. Where that prominent nose of hers broadcast defiance, her unruly auburn waves followed suit and then there were those full lips...

He ran his finger along the lower one.  Large by most standards, but more than welcome in his book.  Especially when painted red.  Better when moving up his body.  The thought caused a twinge in his loins. 
As they had all night
.

Sam inhaled, deep and full and as she released the breath his finger encircled her dark pink nipple.  He savored the feel of prickly flesh beneath his fingertip and circled closer around the tight peak.

Sam’s eyes remained closed as she said, “Good morning.”


Great
morning.”  Vic placed a kiss on the side of her forehead.  “Did you have fun last night?”

“Are you serious?”

Vic paused.  He assumed she was joking, but her tone left a lot to the imagination.  “Well...”

“If half a dozen orgasms punctuated by several primal screams didn’t convince you you’re a white-hot lover, I don’t know what would.”

Pleased by her reference, he chuckled.

“But then again, you’re right,” she said, eyes popping open.  “I’m not most women.”  Sam rolled over and laid a hand on his chest.  Resting her chin on top of it, he noted a mischievous spark in her eye.  “So you might want to try all that again.”

Vic liked the way she thought.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

She frowned.  “Unfortunately, yes.  I have plans today.”

“Do they include me?”

“So far...”

“And later?”

“Jess.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

He tried to put some distance in his voice.  “I just wanted some more of you, that’s all.”

“Didn’t you get enough last night?”

Vic tapped her nose.  “Didn’t you?”

“Never,” she said, and climbed on top of him.  “How about a shower?”  Straddling him, she placed her lips over his and kissed him, her mouth warm and moist.

The press of her flesh was welcome, his reaction immediate.  Instinctively, his hands sought her backside and squeezed firmly.  “Together?”

“Saves water.”

“Let’s go,” he said, and sucked a kiss from her before launching them from the bed.

An hour later through an open door on his way out, Vic caught sight of a strange circle with dots.  It covered an entire wall of the small room.  “What is that?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“What?”

He walked back and nudged the door open for a better view.  One half the circle was solid black and separated from the other by an S-shaped line, which revealed the cool blue of the wall.  Each contained a dot that was painted the opposing side’s color.

Vic pointed.  “That.”

“Ah, yes.”  Sam sounded pleased.  “The symbol for Yin and Yang.  Male, female, positive, negative.  It’s an image representing the circle of life.”


What
?”

“Ancient Chinese philosophy,” she mimicked in a contrived accent then laughed.

Vic’s gaze was drawn to the room’s contents.  Hanging from another wall was a string of spheres, colored from purple to red like shades of a rainbow and on a low table a line of same height candles were organized in a plate of polished pebbles.  In the center of the wood floor lay a rectangular foam mat.  He turned to Sam.  “This your exercise room?”

“Meditation room,” she corrected, her demeanor easy and light.  “I practice my yoga here, too.”

He balked.  “You’re not one of those New Age weirdos, are you?”

Sam’s gaze narrowed.  “In light of your prurient self-interest, I’d withdraw that last statement counselor.” She paused, a glimmer of delight entering her eyes as she added, “I absolutely ‘are’ one.  I’m very in touch with my inner self and yoga is my method of practice.”

“Oh, c’mon.”  Vic did a double take.  “I can’t see you stopping long enough to get the
breathing
down, let alone master the moves.”

“What—you don’t think I’m flexible enough?”

He laughed. “Oh, I know you’re flexible enough!  I’m just surprised you managed the patience to learn how in the first place.”

The corner of her mouth tipped up as she dramatically arched her brow.  “Let me teach you about patience, sometime.”

“No thanks,” he said with a chuckle, pulled further into the room by curiosity.  “I’ve got all I can handle.”

From the small bronze statue he recognized as Buddha to the strange Asian markings etched in stone, it seemed she was indeed into the metaphysical side of life.  He turned back.  “Tell me you don’t pray to Buddha.”

“Buddha means ‘Awakened One.’  It’s a state sought to be achieved, not a God I pray to.”  She leaned against the doorjamb and honed in on him.  “Trial work tests my calm.  Meditation restores the peace.  Yoga is the practice that brings mind, body and spirit together.”

“Uh, huh.”  Vic walked over to a shelf and picked up a wooden plate.  It was heavy and carved with a spiral design.  “What is this?”

“My labyrinth.”

“Your what?”

She walked over to him and repeated, “Labyrinth.”  Her voice was quiet but sure, her eyes fluid with emotion.  “It represents the journey of life.  It’s a tool I use to help focus my meditation inward.  Tracing the spiral with my fingers guides my mind,” she said, demonstrating what she meant by trailing the ridges of the design with a slender forefinger.  “Concentrating on the pattern of the labyrinth and nothing else, I’m able to let go of all other thoughts and distractions and restore my inner peace.”

Her words swished through his brain as though she spoke a foreign language.  This was not the Sam he knew.

Thought he knew
, Vic corrected, and scrutinized the object in his hands, feeling her presence hover by his side.  To him the thing looked more like one of those kids’ maze activities, challenging them to reach the center than an adult looking to restore inner peace.

As though reading his mind, she said, “It’s about living in the present.  I live, I experience, I practice letting go of what’s not important and focus on what really matters.  People, our connections to one another...”

He peered at her more closely.  “Kinda hard to do when you’re tearing them to shreds in the courtroom, isn’t it?”

She laughed.  “I stand up for people’s rights, Vic.  I deliver justice.  Then I come home and focus my thoughts on our common ties.  We’re all brothers and sisters in this adventure called life,” she said, her tone wistful.  “Ultimately, we share one consciousness, one spirit.”

It was amazing how her features softened, her expression turned open and passive.  It was as though Sam had become another person.

And it touched him, this side of her.  No longer the hard, edgy, tough-minded lawyer, she was the kindhearted compassionate defender of peace.  “I didn’t realize you were such a philosopher.”

“I’m not,” she said, and sported a grin.  “I just do what makes sense and feels right.”  With a wink, the old Sam returned and she pinched his rear.  “Hence, your presence in my home.”

Vic returned the wooden spiral to its place and took her in his arms.  “Lucky me.”  He grasped hold of her head and pulled her close, the almond scent of her shampoo reminding him of their shower romp in the most vivid of terms.  He could take her right here.

“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he said, and followed with a kiss, gentle at first, but then spawned by hunger, he dove his tongue deeper, harder.

With flattened palms against his chest, she pushed him off and nailed him with a fiery brown gaze.  “My secret room hasn’t scared you off?”

Vic knew a challenge when he saw one, but truth be known, it only intrigued him.  He brushed overgrown curls from her face, uncovering her prominent, lightly tanned cheekbones and thought it was a side of her personality he never expected.  A twist in the woman he had yet to figure out.

If such a feat were even possible, he mused, and tucked the hair behind her ear.  “Not a chance,” he said, and leaned down for more of her plump, luscious lips.

But the kiss didn’t last.  “Don’t get me started on something you can’t finish,” she said into his mouth.

“Finishing isn’t a problem.”

“It is when you have no time,” she reminded him, and withdrew from his embrace.  “I’ve got things to do before my lunch with Jessica.”

“More important than this?”

“A tad.”  She winked with a smile.

Vic followed her to the front door without complaint, despite being the target of her sharp wit.  Funny, how her sarcasm didn’t bother him.  Flippant comments aimed at putting him in his place just rolled off his back like drops of rain in a sun shower.  Coming from her, he actually enjoyed them.  They felt more tease than taunt.  A willful, beckoning tease that would curse him throughout the day.

From the office to his apartment, thoughts of Sam Rawlings had played with his mind and toyed with his lust.  Now that he had had a taste of her, his problem was magnified.  Too bad she already had plans, because he wasn’t likely to accomplish much today—other than fantasize about that hot body of hers and what she could do to him.  His loins twinged. 
Damn
.

 “How about dinner tonight?”  Vic pulled her to him, one last chance at salvaging his day.

“You’re insatiable,” she said, but her tone implied she couldn’t be more satisfied with the prospect.  “Maybe.  I’ll call you.”

Excellent.  Taking one hot wet kiss to go, he opened the door and walked out, the image of her seared into his brain.

But once the door closed behind him, Vic remained in place.  Images of last night rolled by in fast-forward.  She had invited him into her bed and given him one helluva night.  One of the best he could remember.

Alone in the private hallway, recessed lighting reflecting blue off the silver numbers on her door, Vic already missed her lively presence.  Never a dull moment was an understatement when it came to Sam Rawlings. Flirtatious in that smart sexy way of hers, Sam was high-flying, supersonic, break-the-sound-barrier fun.  And like any powerful machine when it turned off, Vic’s spirits fell to the floor.

Chapter Ten

Vic slid the cuff back from his wrist and checked the time on his silver dress watch.  “
Shit
.”  He was late.  All because Jim Stevens sent him on a bogus errand.  A skinny little man who snuck through the office like a rat, sniffing out trash so he could dish it out when needed—usually when he felt threatened—or in this case, when his blood relatives did.  The menial errand was nothing more than payback because his sleazy nephew didn’t get the Perry case.

Cursing the senior partner under his breath, he pushed through the heavy wooden entry door.  The errand had been nothing more than the grunt work of a lazy-ass attorney.  Barely acknowledging the receptionist with the phone glued to one ear, Vic sailed past en route for the conference room.  Today was his first opportunity to sit in on a meeting with opposing counsel for Perry and now he’d be lucky if he made it at all.

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