CHAPTER 7
Ford
It’s 6:59 PM when I knock on the front door. She doesn’t have a doorbell; I doubt any of these houses do. She lives in an older, slightly rundown neighborhood not far from her office.
It is not exactly the safest area to be in.
Still, her house is cute and well maintained. The cement board siding looks new, and the bright white color contrasts with black shutters, giving it a charming appearance.
The front porch is hardly big enough to hold me but it does have a portico-type roof that extends over it and shields me from the slight mist of rain that’s going on.
There’s the distinct sound of a deadbolt unlatching and a chain sliding off the track, then Viveka is standing before me in the open doorway. When we made plans for dinner yesterday, I did not give her any indication of what to expect, only that I’d pick her up at seven.
From her appearance, she clearly thought I would be taking her out to a fancy restaurant. The woman may not own any fancy cocktail dresses, but she rocks a little black dress like no one I’ve ever seen before. It’s simple with a neckline that’s cut severely across her chest just below her collarbone so not even a whisper of cleavage is showing. Her bare arms are amazing and the hem is right above her knees, which still shows plenty of her beautiful legs.
That I hope to fucking God will be wrapped around my waist tonight.
Viveka’s hair is down—it’s wavy and loose, parted down the middle in soft waves that fall all around her shoulders. Her makeup is impeccable and by that, I mean it doesn’t look like she’s wearing any. Her skin is dewy and flawless. Her blue eyes are sparkling inside a magnificent rim of long dark lashes. Lips with a pale gloss on them but they are full and pink, and I also know what they would look good wrapped around.
While I shamelessly ogle her from head to toe, she is clearly doing the same to me. Her eyes run over me, and she says, “I’m obviously overdressed for whatever you have planned tonight.”
I’m dressed super casual in jeans, a well-worn button down, and a pair of chukka boots.
My lips curve, and I tip my head toward the large paper bag I’m resting against my hip. “I thought we’d cook dinner here.”
Without hesitation, Viveka pulls the door open wider and motions me in. As I walk past her, she asks, “You’re going to cook for me?”
I flash what I hope is a charming smile. “No. I suck at cooking. I was kind of hoping you were good at it. If not, we can order in.”
She tips her head back and laughs before shutting the door. Inclining her head to the left, she tells me, “You can go put that stuff in the kitchen. I’m going to go change into something more casual.”
“Or… You can just go naked,” I suggest with a waggle of my eyebrows.
She smirks before giving me her back to head down a short hallway I assume leads to her bedroom. I call, “Your ass is amazing in that dress. You could leave it on.”
She wags her finger up in the air without even slowing her pace. “You’re so bad.”
You have no idea, V.
My gaze sweeps around her small living room. This house may be old, but some work has been done on it. She’s got glossy hardwood floors, and the walls are painted a light, mint green. The fireplace appears recently refurbished to be fit with gas logs. The furniture is simple and modern. A sleek cream couch on one side with two butter-yellow armchairs with chrome accents on the other. There is a simple wooden table separating the furniture and a set of bookshelves on one wall filled to capacity. The style is light and unrestrained. It’s like a fucking IKEA showroom, or more accurately, a nod to her Swedish roots.
I walk through an open doorway that leads into the kitchen. It’s also been recently remodeled, with pricey cabinets and granite countertops.
Based on what little I know of Viveka’s law practice, I have to assume these upgrades to the house came before she purchased it.
I set the bag on a small butcher block table at the end of the L-shaped counter and pull the contents out. I’m folding the bag up when she walks in.
And if I thought she was stunning in a little black dress, let me just say the woman can rock a pair of sweats. Coupled with a simple t-shirt, she looks unbearably sexy. And at the same time, so beautiful she could easily model her outfit on the catwalk.
The last thing I notice is that her feet are bare with pale pink painted toes. It tells me she’s comfortable with my suggestion we stay in.
She eyeballs the items I had placed on the counter. Raising a sleek, delicately arched eyebrow of pale blonde, she asks, “A frozen pizza?”
I shrug and lean against the counter, placing one elbow on the granite. “It’s a fancy frozen pizza from Whole Foods.”
She points at two other small bags I laid on the wooden butcher block. “What’s in those?”
“I’m glad you asked,” I say. I push away from the counter and reach for the first smaller bag. It’s pink with white tissue poking out from the top. I hand it over to her.
She gives me a look… surprise and uncertainty… before she reaches inside and pulls out a plastic bag filled with bath bombs.
“It’s not mud masks, but perhaps you would like to take a bath later,” I say.
Her lips tip upward as she gazes from the gift to me. “Sadly, I don’t have a bathtub.”
I wince and take the bag back. “That’s just awful. I’ll take these back to my apartment and we’ll try them out in my bathtub at some point.”
Viveka chuckles. “I seriously doubt the two of us are going to fit into a bathtub together.”
“Didn’t you check out my tub at all when you were at my apartment? It’s massive. We’ll totally fit in there together.”
She gives me the cutest smirk. “We’ll see. But what’s in the last bag?”
It’s a plastic Target bag and I open it, pulling out three DVDs. “Cheesy eighties’ films. I figured we could watch one tonight.”
Her eyes light up, and Viveka snatches the movies from me. She flips through them while grinning. “Big Trouble in Little China, Dirty Dancing, and… hey, Flash Gordon. That’s actually one of my favorite movies.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” I ask in disbelief. Because I seem to remember it being incredibly stupid, although the music is amazing.
“Oh my God… I swear. One of my favorites. We are so watching this one tonight.”
Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I realize I’m looking forward to it. Not the actual movie, but just being with her.
Viveka puts the movies down and grabs the frozen pizza, turning it over to peruse the instructions. She walks to her oven while she reads and then turns it on. While she rifles through a lower cabinet, she says, “Help yourself to some beer that’s in the refrigerator if you want. I also have a couple bottles of wine, or I might even have a bottle of vodka somewhere.”
I move to the refrigerator and ask, “What do you want?”
“Just a bottle of water. Frannie and I overindulged in the wine last night, and the thought of any alcohol makes me slightly nauseated.”
Chuckling, I open the refrigerator and pull two bottles out. I hand her one and open the other.
Viveka merely sets the water down on the counter. To my surprise, she hops up to sit down beside it. Because of her height, it was effortless for her to do so. That maneuver along with the way she’s dressed—her free-spirit attitude—makes her seem like a teenage girl. And while teenage girls aren’t my thing, I can tell you the carefree way in which she carries herself is.
“You seriously have never had a long-term relationship?” she asks. Her eyes cut over to the bath bombs and movies. When she turns back to me, she says, “Because you’re really good at the dating stuff.”
My tone has a slight censure when I respond. “Just because I’m not big on long-term relationships doesn’t mean I can’t be romantic and doting.”
Viveka shrugs. “I suppose that could be true.”
“Be honest,” I demand with a grin. “Would you have rather gone out for an expensive and elegant dinner tonight, or would you rather stay in and eat frozen pizza?”
“They’re both good date ideas,” she hedges. “I would’ve been happy with either one.”
That doesn’t tell me what I need to know. I lay it all out there so we can get on to enjoying our evening. “Because I don’t want you to think I’m expecting anything of you because we’re here in your home and not a fancy restaurant surrounded by other people.”
Viveka blinks in surprise, and her face softens. “I don’t think that.”
“I hope not. Because after pizza and Flash Gordon, I am prepared to walk out of here and go home alone.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m a big girl, Ford. I also don’t have any regrets about sleeping with you already, and if you do stay the night with me, I’m quite sure I won’t have regrets about that, either.”
We stare at each other, the silence that envelopes us quite comfortable as we consider the exchange of words we just had. It seems we both reaffirmed this is casual, and that sex is still on the table. Yet, at the same time, I offered her an out if she didn’t want to go there and I truly meant it. I wouldn’t be disappointed if we don’t end the evening with sex. That is off character for me, especially because this woman completely rocked my world the other night.
The oven makes a small chime, and Viveka slides off the counter. She puts the frozen pizza on a round baking stone.
“This house is really nice,” I say as she opens the oven door. “Not in the best of neighborhoods, but it’s clearly had extensive remodeling.”
She nods as she slides the pizza onto the top rack. When she closes it, she turns to face me. “My ex-husband Adam bought it for me when we divorced. He gave me some money to do the remodeling as well.”
“That was nice,” I drawl slowly, not really sure if that is a good thing or bad thing.
She smiles. “That was his guilt. He wanted me to have a good start post-divorce.”
“Guilt?” Because if that fucker cheated on her, I would so kick his ass.
She gives a hard shake of her head. “He worked a lot. There wasn’t a lot of time for me. The marriage just… fizzled. His medical practice was more important than me, so when we finally decided to call it quits, he was very generous in the divorce settlement.”
She doesn’t sound bitter or broken up about it at all. Not an overly harsh word about him, and I have to assume she must have wanted the divorce to happen.
“Is that why you can afford to have a law practice that doesn’t make a lot of money?”
“Not really. I put all the cash settlement into investment accounts. Because I don’t make a killing at my law practice, you can imagine I don’t have much to put in retirement. So I pretty much live hand to mouth on what I make. But I’ve made it work for me, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
I can’t help but be honest. “It seems like a struggle.”
Viveka chuckles. “I’m guessing your peer circle doesn’t include attorneys like me. It must be shocking to see how I practice and live.”
“I find you utterly fascinating,” I say truthfully. “So, for example, how much are you being paid to defend this stupid woodpecker?”
I get a chastising look in return. “First, the woodpecker is not stupid. Second, I’m not making a dime. I took the case pro bono. In fact, a lot of what I do is pro bono.”
I blink in surprise. Not that she does free legal work, but it would be impractical for any attorney who owns their own business to do a lot of it. “You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not kidding you. Adam paid for the house. My car is paid for and still running. I’m just a regular person, Ford, who makes do with what she has. I clip coupons, and I shop at Costco for bulk items to save money. Frannie cuts my hair for free. One of the veterinarians I work with on animal cruelty cases treats my animals for free. And if I have frozen pizza at night, it’s the three-dollar variety from Food Lion and not the twelve-dollar variety from Whole Foods.”
I stare at her with a mixture of emotions coursing through me. I can’t tell if she’s upset she has to explain these things to me or she’s amused by my inability to relate. She doesn’t seem pissed or offended in any way. “The expression on your face says it all.”
I give a hard shake of my head as I step up to her. My hands go to her waist where I hold her lightly. “It’s just… I’ve never met another person like you. Not an attorney. A person.” Viveka looks up at me, and I notice for the first time she has a thin layer of gold separating her pupil from her iris.
Her voice is soft and almost apologetic. “We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”
I have to agree with that. My world is vastly different than hers, from both a legal perspective and a personal one. “All the attorneys I know are in it for the money.”
She tilts her head. Thankfully, there’s no condemnation in her eyes. “Including you?”
I breathe in through my nose and let out a pained sigh. “I can’t lie to you… I like my lifestyle, but I love the law, too. I would practice law for a lot less money, but I’ve worked hard to get where I am. The fact I can charge top dollar to people like Drake Powell came through a lot of blood, sweat and tears.”
Her warm hands go to my chest, and she’s quick to reassure me. “And I think that’s amazing. I want you to know I don’t hold anything against you because your practice is so different than mine. You have every right to your type of practice, and I think it’s great you’ve got the ability to charge jackasses like Drake Powell an arm and a leg.”
I chuckle and tease her. “I’d like to lock the two of you into a room together. I would put money on you to kick his ass.”
“That guy is a certified schmuck,” she says with disgust in her voice. “You should’ve heard some of the things he said to me before you got to the construction site.”
My body stiffens. “Like what?”
Viveka steps away from me with a husky laugh of amusement as she checks on the pizza. I try not to stare at her ass overly hard when she bends at the waist to peer in the window.
When she turns to me, she gives a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, you know… how some men can be. Bullying and sexual innuendo in an effort to assert power and control over a woman.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t know that.”
How would I know that? I don’t do that to women. My male friends don’t do that to women. Maybe back in college there were some but—
“It was nothing,” she assures with a smile. “Besides I’m a big girl. When I was modeling, I had to grow a very thick skin, very fast. Constantly being told you’re just a little too heavy or you’re getting a little old looking can get to you.”
If she wanted to get my mind off Drake Powell, that worked. I practically sputter, “You were what… like fifteen or sixteen?”
She gives a wry smile. “I know. Crazy, right? But modeling is a brutal business.”
I don’t even want to imagine, but I’m thankful Viveka escaped it as quickly as she did. I firmly believe she kept her good graces and infectious free-spirited attitude because she did break away. She may have the beauty of a supermodel, which, I’m not going to lie, is what first attracted me to her. But it’s the things inside I’m finding that clearly sets her apart from all the other women I’ve known.
♦
She’s goddamned beautiful like this.
Palms pressed to her headboard, back arched, and ass tipped up.
Panting for it.
“Christ,” I mutter as I fist my cock and feed it into her.
“Oh, Ford,” she groans as I bottom out, and her head falls forward.
All that glorious pale hair curtains her off from me and that won’t do. I grab it all up, transfer it to one hand, and pull it so her head comes up. My free hand goes to her hip, and she twists her neck to look over her shoulder at me, eyes glazed and needy.
“I’ll give it to you, V. Just hold on.”
So she does. Palms slide up, fingers curl over the top of the headboard, and her arms lock tight at the elbows.
It’s a good thing because I ride her rough, fisting that silky hair. Her pussy gloves me tight, and her cries echo off the walls all around me.
Frantic, crazy fucking. I’m not sure I know how to do it any other way with this woman. She brings out the animal in me, and more importantly, she seems to enjoy that beast.
Viveka comes without warning, her back bowing and then arching as she slams backward onto me.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chants.
The pressure in my balls swells, and I have a sublime moment where everything just seems to stop. My cock lodged deep, my knuckles holding her hair so tight they graze the back of her head.
One last tight squeeze of her around me and I explode.
A feral growl tears free of me, and it feels so fucking good it almost hurts.
Almost unbearable.
But then, time starts again, and I’m overwhelmed with sensations. The smell of sex, her tiny pants, and the sheen of sweat on her back. My cock pulses inside of her, and a terrible groan rumbles free.
Holy shit, that was…
I don’t know what that was.
I release her hair and ease out of her body. She collapses to the mattress and gives a soft, beautiful sigh of satisfaction. “That was… well, I can’t come up with the right words.”
She can’t see my smile, but she feels it when I bend over to kiss her shoulder. “Be right back.”
I hit her bathroom up to ditch the condom. As I’m washing my hands, I glance into the mirror and see my hair sticking up all over the place. That brings another smile to my face. Her fingers spent a lot of time in my hair while I ate her out earlier.
When I get back to her room, I realize I don’t want to leave. I was pretty sure we’d have sex tonight, but I’d always envisioned I’d leave after.
But Viveka is on her side facing me, one hand tucked under her pillow, the other fingering the sheet she’d pulled over her body. She doesn’t say a word, just peels it back and lifts it up. I let my eyes run over her body, lingering on the most fantastic pair of tits I’ve ever had in my mouth or hands. With some reluctance, I let my gaze move from her breasts to her face.
It’s that look right there that has me making the decision to stay.
I don’t take her invitation to get in on that side of the bed, though. I walk around, slide in behind her under the sheet, and pull her into me. Her ass settles against my happy, well-spent dick, and I curl an arm around her belly.
We don’t say a word to each other. Before long, I hear her breathing slow down.
I close my eyes and go to sleep with a smile still on my face.