Something Like Peace Page 3

  Vincent snorted out a laugh that sounded only half amused. He spared me a glance. “You can cut the flattery shit. You’re already gonna get laid.”

  I felt a flutter in my stomach that was a little bit nerves and a lot of anticipation. I cleared my throat. “It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

  Vincent graced me with the tiniest smile, but he ignored the compliment. “I’ve got shit to do. Things to take care of. I’ll meet you in your dressing room in a bit and we can sort stuff out.” Vincent finally lifted his head and gave me the full weight of his gaze. My breath threatened to catch. He really was just gorgeous. “Okay?”

  I nodded because I didn’t have the wherewithal to speak. His wicked grin, fleeting but definitely there, made things worse. I choked on air, and waved him off as I coughed. It took a moment for me to get myself under control, but when I could speak without dying, I leaned forward. “I’ll be waiting.”

  His look was just short of incredulous. “Of course you will.”

  Really, his arrogance should have been a turn off. But it was the exact opposite. I couldn’t put my finger on whether it was the trait itself that worked for me, or just Vincent, and that’s why it did. In the end, it didn’t matter why. He turned me on, made me want, and that’s all that mattered. It was probably a good thing we were in a room full of people, because otherwise I would have pounced. The activity around us kept me grounded in reality.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked, taking a small step backward even as I kept my gaze fixed on him.

  His deep brown eyes heated as he looked at me, and after a moment, he shook his head. “I’ll be along as soon as I can.” His tone was dismissive, and yet somehow still filled with promise. I wasn’t quite sure how he managed it.

  “Okay. Good.” I felt like an idiot, but I didn’t know what else to say. Truthfully, I didn’t think anything else needed to be said. So I just gave him a smile and headed off set. It was a quick walk past the soundstages and down the hall that held the dressing rooms.

  We were done for the day, even though it was just now five, and I could head there without question. The cast members often hung out in their rooms and the hallway after we were done filming, taking our time winding down before we headed home. No one would know that I was waiting for Vincent.

  I had the fleeting thought that if I was so paranoid about being found out then it was maybe the wrong thing to be doing. But I shook my head and shoved away that thought as quickly as it appeared. I was keeping it quiet because it was prudent. And it was no one else’s business who I slept with. Besides, it wasn’t that Vincent was a man that had me hiding, though I wasn’t ready to share that with too many people. More it was the fact that having a fling with someone I worked with, someone who, for all intents and purposes, could be considered my boss, wasn’t something I wanted to advertise.

  If I didn’t want him so damn badly, I would have called it off right then.

  But I did and he wanted me back. I didn’t care if it was just tonight, I had to know what it was like to be with him. Everything about him worked for me, and now that I was finally willing to admit it, I wanted to experience it. So I pushed away my doubts and worries, stripped out of my costume, hung it on the rack for wardrobe, and jumped in the shower so I didn’t have to think anymore.

  * * * *

  It took Vincent almost two hours to show up. By that time, I was more than ready to go home, and nerves and anticipation were doing a number on my stomach. I was also a little put out by being made to wait. I knew Vincent would appear when he was done, but I would have appreciated a head’s up that it was going to take so long.

  But just before annoyance bloomed into outright anger, Vincent knocked on the door and pushed his way in. The smile he gave me, a combination of apologetic and sultry, made my heart pound and went a long way to easing my irritation.

  He shut the door behind him and flipped the latch before he stalked toward me. I was sitting on my loveseat, and I couldn’t have moved if I tried. His predatory gaze pinned me in place. All I could do was wait.

  Vincent straddled my knees, but he didn’t sit down. Instead he leaned forward until he could put his hands on the back on the couch, one on either side of my shoulders. I was bigger than him by six inches and probably thirty pounds, but he had me well and truly trapped just by his stance and commanding presence.

  I loved it.

  My dick did, too, coming to attention and trying to break past my zipper to say hello. I ignored it. I ignored everything except for his fathomless eyes and the heat I saw there. Truly, his gaze alone could keep me in place, if that’s what he wanted.

  Slowly, he moved his hand, drifting his fingers across my shoulder, up my neck, until he cupped my chin. He lifted my face to his, pulling me gently at the same time he lowered. Our lips met, and for just a second, I thought the kiss was going to be tender and gentle.

  I should have known better.

  The moment he could taste me, the pressure became almost bruising as he devoured my mouth like he owned it. I whined and held on, lifting my own hands to grab onto his hips. He was too far away. I wanted to feel him, his body against me, but Vincent would not be moved. He held fast, ripped his lips from mine, and gave a dark, wicked chuckle. I could do nothing but stare and pant, trying to get back my breath.

  “God, you’re just so fucking sexy,” Vincent murmured. He tracked his nose along my jaw to my ear, then his teeth bit ever so slightly on the lobe. I shivered in his grasp, and he gave a pleased sort of hum. “Are you going to let me fuck you, Dan? Am I going to be the first to have your ass?”

  The shiver became a jolt, my muscles jerking at his sultry whisper. That easily, I knew I’d give the man whatever he wanted. He did it for me. Completely. And for tonight at least, I was utterly his.

  “Yes,” I said on a moan, giving him the absolute truth.

  For a second, Vincent went still. Then he gently pulled back, extricating himself from my grip so that he could look at me. I saw the lust and heat in his eyes, but I also saw the honesty and affection beneath that. It was reassuring even as it was arousing.

  “I’m going to make it so good for you,” Vincent said, and it sounded suspiciously like a vow. He bent again and kissed me fast and hard, then he stepped back out of my reach. “I have to take care of the dog. So give me your address, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “You have a dog?” I asked even as I reached for the phone he was holding out to me. I quickly tapped in my address.

  “Yes.” He took back the phone and looked at it before tapping to save my number and shoving it in his pocket. “Give me an hour, two at most, and then I’ll be there. I’ll bring dinner.”

  Vincent barely waited for my agreement before he bestowed one more kiss on my lips and sailed out the door. It took me a few minutes before I could move, my body tight with arousal and anticipation. Eventually, it was the latter emotion that got me up and moving. I needed to get home. I needed to be waiting for him.

  Chapter 5

  It was funny how deep inside my own head I could get in just fifteen minutes. Because that was all I had from the moment I got home until when Vincent arrived, and I still managed to talk myself into and out of this whole thing at least a half a dozen times. But then there was a knock on the door, and after a deep breath, I opened it to reveal Vincent standing on my front steps. His knowing and heat-filled smile made my stomach flip, and I stood back to allow him inside.

  “Here, let me take that,” I said, motioning to the bag he carried with one hand while shutting the door with the other. The sturdy paper bag with handles was from a deli close to the soundstage, the logo printed on the front. I’d grabbed sandwiches there so often I knew it at a glance. They made their own bread, too, which was why it was a favorite of mine.

  “Thanks,” Vincent said, handing over the paper bag but keeping a small plastic one. He studied me for a moment, his gaze roving over my face, and then he gave me a salacious grin. “I picked up subs be
cause I knew they would keep. We’ve got other things to attend to first.”

  I swallowed hard and tried to tamp down the butterflies in my gut. I wanted this, wanted him, but now that it was happening I felt more nervous than I thought I would. I tried for a smile, lifted the bag as if that were an explanation, and took a left out of the front hallway and into the kitchen. I gave myself a stern, silent talking to while I took the sandwiches out of the bag, then bent to put them on a shelf in the refrigerator.

  Vincent’s warm, big hands landed on my hips, and I straightened slowly. He pulled me back against him and slid his arms around my waist. He pressed his forehead against the nape of my neck, and I could do nothing but take a deep breath and relax in his hold.

  “There you go,” he murmured.

  I felt his lips on my skin. Little butterfly kisses that made my heart pound and my skin prickle. I never knew the back of my neck could be so sensitive. But for his lips and breath, it became one big erogenous zone. I shivered and gripped his hands where they folded over my abdomen, holding on.

  His laugh was pure sex.

  “You’re made for this, Dan,” he whispered, and he flicked his tongue along the collar of my shirt.

  My shudder was involuntary, and when I tried to turn in his arms, he allowed it. As soon as I was facing him, he pushed me against the fridge, trapping me and pulling down my head so he could reach my lips.

  The kiss was not gentle, but it was exactly what I needed. He bit and sucked at my lips before pressing hard and pushing his tongue inside. I opened to him, letting myself sink against him. Not having to lead, to just enjoy and feel, was a novel experience and one I’d only ever had at Vincent’s hands. Even faking it on set with Aaron, Geary was written as the aggressor in their relationship, the one who led and commanded. But I was not that guy, and Vincent’s commanding presence, even his arrogance, was a turn on for me. That he took control and all I had to do was follow made everything so much better.

  Vincent broke our kiss, and I whined in protest, trying to pull him back. He chuckled, a deep sound, then stepped away. When I reached for him, he took my hand and tugged. He grabbed the small plastic bag from the counter where he must have left it, then gave me a pointed look.

  “How about we take this to your bedroom?” It was barely a question and I was eager to comply.

  I didn’t waste any time, just led Vincent into the hall and up the stairs. There were only two bedrooms. The guestroom was small and sparsely decorated, and I always kept the door closed. The master was on the left, and Vincent glanced that way before he nudged me through the doorway. He didn’t bother shutting it. Instead, he crossed right to the bed, tossed his bag on the mattress, then reached for me.

  “Take this off,” he murmured even as he pulled at the hem of my T-shirt. “I want to see you.”

  I did, throwing it toward the hamper in the corner, and when Vincent sat on the edge of the bed, I reached for the button and zipper on my jeans. My voice came out at barely above a whisper when I said, “I really haven’t done this before.”

  “I know.” Vincent’s voice was gentle. He motioned for me to get rid of the pants, and I grinned as I shucked them, and my boxers, down my legs. When I stood there naked, I watched Vincent swallow, saw his Adam’s apple bob. And when he finally raked his gaze up to meet mine, his pupils were blown with lust. “I’m going to take care of you. I’ll make it so good.”

  He stood and grabbed me, kissing me hard and long until I was clinging to him because my legs wouldn’t hold me up any longer. I still gave a small whimper when he pulled away.

  “Lay down,” he said, pushing me onto the bed. “Get comfortable.”

  I was quick to comply, settling onto my back and watching as he took off his own clothes. He folded them as he removed each piece and set them in a pile on top of my dresser. I didn’t care what he did with the clothes, but I was riveted as his body emerged. I’d been fantasizing about it for so long.

  He was both different and better than I had imagined. Not as cut with muscle as I’d thought, but he was lean and fit without any extra fat. His stomach was flat, and his chest and lower abdomen were sprinkled with hair. It was the same dark sable brown that graced his head, and just a touch lighter than the dark bush of trimmed curls around his very impressive erection.

  I’d been hard since we started, but seeing him in all his glory made my dick throb and leak. I felt a drop of pre-cum slide down my cock, and I took a hold of myself so I could stroke. I didn’t know how he could possibly fit inside me, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to touch him. I stroked faster, watching him, and suddenly he let out a bit of a snarl.

  “Hands off,” he ground out, stalking toward the bed.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, grabbing onto my sac and pulling my nuts down and away from my body. Just that much and I was ready to shoot. I needed this to last a hell of a lot longer than that.

  Vincent curled his fingers around my wrist and gently tugged away my hand. Then, with lightning-fast moves, he had me pinned beneath him, my hands up by my head and my thighs spread around his hips. The heat of his body, the feel of his skin, was almost too much to bear. I’d been wanting this for so long, and now that I had it, it was more intense than I could imagine.

  “Vin-Vincent. I’m not gonna last if you—ugh!”

  I arched under him, seeking more contact, my entire body reacting to his hips undulating against mine. I never would have imagined that would feel so good, his cock rubbing alongside mine, the heat and velvet and hardness all combining to ratchet up my arousal even further. I wanted to come, but I wanted this feeling to last, and I restlessly moved against him not knowing which I wanted more.

  Vincent’s chuckle was wicked and full of sex, and he slid up further so he could kiss me long and hard. He was just enough shorter that when his mouth was on mine, his hips were no longer pressing on my cock. I wanted that sensation back, but I didn’t want to stop kissing him. I mewled, rocked against him, tried to adjust our position. But Vincent was fully in charge and he held me securely.

  “Shhh,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll give you what you need.”

  I nodded and arched back my chin, giving him easier access as his lips slid down my throat. I clutched at his shoulders, my fingers digging in, as he slithered back down my body. He spent just a moment licking at the hollow of my throat before he moved on. He kissed and licked at my chest, and I let my fingers drift into his hair. I directed him away from my nipples—having them played with never felt particularly good to me—but I damn near suffocated him holding his face against me when he found a sensitive spot below my ribs.

  Vincent reached up and untangled my fingers from his hair, then kissed the crease of my hip. Another sucking kiss landed more toward the middle. Suddenly, I knew where he was headed and I wanted it so badly I could taste it. But what was worse, I knew if he put his mouth on me, I’d lose it completely. I didn’t know much about anal sex, but I knew it would feel better if I hadn’t come first. I tried to sit up but Vincent pinned my hips with his hands and set about sucking a hickey on that spot of skin beneath my navel. I writhed and moaned, my heels drumming on the bed.

  God, I fucking loved his mouth.

  “Vincent,” I moaned, trying to breathe. “Please. You gotta stop.”

  He sucked hard for another moment, then lifted his head to peer up at me. His lips were dark red and swollen, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his face. He looked even more delectable than before, and for a minute, I forgot why I’d protested. Why I wanted him to stop. I was at his mercy, and he could do whatever he wanted to me. Whenever he wanted.

  The thought was like a punch to the stomach. I didn’t know if I would have this again, not with Vincent at any rate, and I wasn’t going to ask him. Especially not now when we were hard, naked, and wanting. But if this was the only time I was with him, I wanted it all. The whole experience.

  “If you’re going to fuck me,” I whispered, barely able to get out the
words, “you better get on with it.”

  He squinted at me, considering my words, before he levered himself up and reached for the bag he’d tossed on the mattress earlier. He pulled out a small bottle of lube and a pack of condoms. The box was already open and he retrieved a condom, then focused his attention on removing the seal from the lube bottle.

  “Turn over,” he commanded gently as the plastic gave way. He tossed it toward the bedside table.

  “Can I—” I cleared my throat. “Can I stay like this?”

  Vincent’s eyes softened. “It might be easier on your hands and knees.”

  “Yeah. But…” I took a deep breath. “I want to see you.”

  It was close enough to the truth. Really, I wanted to commit everything about this night to memory and if I couldn’t see him, see his face and his eyes and the way he looked, I knew I’d be missing something important. I loved looking at him and I wanted to see him in the throes of passion. I wanted to watch him come.

  Vincent didn’t say a word, didn’t acknowledge my statement at all except to grab a pillow and shove it under my hips. Then he snapped open the cap on the bottle and slathered his fingers.

  I jolted when he touched me, and he gave me a grin as I flushed red. Even knowing it was coming, the foreign touch had surprised me. I did my best to relax as he did it again, this time circling softly around my pucker. I thought I would have been embarrassed, but my knees fell apart and I pushed against him. Holy shit, that felt so good. I wanted more. Vincent had been watching his own hand, but at my reaction, he lifted his head and his gaze found mine. And then he deliberately pushed his finger inside.

  There was a few seconds’ burn, and the intrusion felt strange. But it didn’t last. Because the moment he started moving his finger, I moaned loudly and wiggled, trying to get more of that touch. I leaned up on my elbows so I could look down at what was going on. It shouldn’t feel this good, I shouldn’t want it so badly. But I did. I wanted more, harder, bigger. I moaned, amazed as I watched his finger slide in and out of my hole. I managed to get up one hand and clutched at his wrist, making him go faster.