“This will be the last time you snap your fingers and I come running,” Cecily said to him. “The last time!”
And then she headed toward the guest house garage where she always parked her rental car whenever she wassummoned to Connecticut or Mali or Beverly Hills or wherever Vince wanted her to come and sleep with him. Because even she knew he wasn’t lying: That was all they did whenever they were together.
They waited until she came tearing out of that garage in her rental car to make her way back to the airfield where her private plane was waiting to fly her back to DC. She could do so much better than him and she knew it. And she was tired of letting him dictate her life as if he was one day going to see in her what she saw in him. She was done.
When she left, barely missing Vince’s Bentley, he looked at Ricki. “This has been an exhausting night. Why don’t we call it a night? Get some sleep.”
“Where?” asked Ricki.
“In my bed. Where else?”
“I’m not sleeping in that bed!”
“What bed?” Then Vince realized she meant the bed in which Cecily had been lying naked. He smiled. “That’s not my bedroom, Ricki. Nobody has ever slept in my bedroom but me.” Then he pulled her into his arms. “And your mean ass,” he added, and slapped her ass.
She didn’t smile. She was still coming down from the sight of Cecily Lang. But she did wrap her arms around him again.
It was so touching to him that his heartbeat quickened as he continued to hold her, late that chilly night, on his now quiet front porch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Vince was naked on his back and Ricki was naked sitting on top of him, straddling him, as he slowly entered her.
She was leaned forward, with the palm of her small hands pressed against his barrel chest and her eyes closed. He watched her as he entered her. He saw her eyelids flutter. He saw her head leaned back as he continued to move in until he was in so deep that she groaned.
He wanted her to ride him hard. He wanted it desperately. But he reached up and laid her down on top of him instead. Because this wasn’t about him. He wanted her to relax. After what happened to her sister, and what almost happened to her, it was no longer about satisfying his needs. It was all about Rasheda.
She could feel every inch of him inside of her in a way so real that it felt as if he was expanding with his every movement. The tightness of it. The massiveness of it. She felt it all.
But not just inside of her. She felt his big hands on her back, as he rubbed her there. She felt one of his hands move down to her butt, as he rubbed her there. She felt his warm, big, protective arms encapsulate her entire upper body as if they were a cocoon around her. And his large thighs against her small thighs. The smell of his cologne. The smell of his manliness. It felt as if he was all over her, with a kind of sensual control over every inch of her body. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Vince felt completely in control, too, as he did her. And as ten minutes became twenty, and twenty thirty, he felt as if he could carry them on like this forever.
But that was until he felt Ricki’s vagina closing in on his penis with such a tightening that he could feel her pulsations. Which he knew meant she was beginning to cum. Which meant he had done his job well.
Maybe too well because, as soon as he began to feel her vibrations, he started cumming too. That wasn’t his plan. He had hoped to give her rolling orgasms. The kind that wouldn’t stop. But that would have required him to hold off his own orgasm.
He couldn’t hold off. Because it was Ricki. Because no woman made him feel as if he was climbing Mount Everett every single time he entered her until he reached that summit and had to burst through. He burst through. He came just after she came. And it was such a thunderous cum that he nearly sat up as he poured into her with sensations he’d never felt before.
Making love to the one you loved: That was the difference.
And even when it was all over and he had not even a miniscule of a drop left to pour into her, they were both still feeling the sensations. That was why Ricki remained on top of Vince. That was why Vince remained inside of Ricki. It felt so wonderful, and so right, and so relaxing that they remained as they were all that night, and half of the next day too.
And over the next three weeks, George and Milo continued to investigate in Milton while Vince kept Ricki in New Haven with him. They spent all of that time getting to know each other in every intimate way possible. Minor and major.
Ricki’s favorite color was orange, for instance, which was the weirdest thing ever to Vince.
Vince’s favorite color was beige, which had Ricki laughing as if she’d never heard anything so absurd. All the colors in this world, and he chose beige? It was like white being somebody’s favorite color. It wasn’t exactly colorful.
But they found that they enjoyed each other’s company in and out of the bedroom. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Including Vince’s bad habit of always sleeping in. Ricki understood he owned his own company and didn’t have to work at all, but the idea of a man sleeping until noon everyday did something to her. She told him about it. She didn’t keep it to herself. But he made it clear that he often worked late into the night and was accustomed to the hours he kept. He wasn’t a morning person on any day of the week unless he had to be, he declared. And right now, on vacation in Connecticut, he didn’t have to be.
But would he change at all if their relationship, such as it was, blossomed? Would he work late into the night every night if they hooked up? Ricki didn’t ask those questions. She had to assume the answer was yes, he would continue his routine. The question wasn’t would he change. For her the question was whether she would be willing to adjust. It was a question she wasn’t ready to answer. It was still too soon.
Vince also found out that Ricki had what he considered was a very bad habit of taking baths day and night. “If you took a bath that night,” he asked her, “why take another one the next morning? How can you possibly get dirty overnight? I bathe every morning,” he added. “That’s enough.”
But Vince knew he was blessed. There were worse habits in his experience that a girl could have (like cheating on him or lying to him or trying to extort big sums of money from him). But a young lady being overly clean? He could live with that.
