Heart's a Mess (3 page)

Beneath the fabric of his boxers he moved
his hand. “Thong, bikini or boy-leg?”

“Show me,” she begged.

“Tell me.”

“Brief. Retro, the full, old-fashioned
style. They have lace panels and two little bows up the top.”

“Like a real pin-up girl?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” He extracted his hand and pushed
down his boxers. His hard-on stood high, the swollen head flushed a deep red.
It bordered on painful. Alex wrapped his hand around himself and squeezed. “Are
you coming over here?”

“No.” The whites of her eyes flashed. “No,
I can’t.”

He could be patient, though it would hurt.
It would hurt a lot. “Then keep going. Don’t leave me hanging, sweetheart.”

“I undid my bra and you pulled down my
knickers.”

His hand moved idly up and down his cock,
just warming things up. “Bare or with curls?”

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and she
shook her head.

“Damn,” he groaned. “Play nice, Vi.”

“A girl can’t be a little upset you don’t
even remember having sex with her? Seriously?”

“Fuck, I wish I did. You have no idea. How
did we do it?” His hand picked up the pace. “Tell me.”

“I pushed you back onto the bed and
straddled you,” she said, panting a little if he wasn’t mistaken. “You had one
of my nipples in your mouth. But you stopped sucking long enough to tell me
there were some condoms in the bedside drawer. The pack was new. You got cranky
when it took me a while to open it. You used your teeth on me.”

“Shit. I did?”

She suddenly grinned. “Yes. I liked it.
There’s a little bruise on the side of my left breast. I think of you every
time I see it.”

“God damn it.” His hand picked up pace
again and Vi rubbed her thighs together.

“I undid your jeans and pushed them down,
got the condom on you,” she said. “We were kissing like crazy.”

“Did you like it? Kissing me?”

“I loved it. We were a mess.” Her eyes
looked foggy, dreamy. “But it was so nice.”

“Only nice?”

“It was perfect. Are you going to come?”

In reply, he brushed his thumb over the
head of his cock, spreading pre-cum. A gorgeous flush had spread across her
breasts. Thank God for a woman in a low-cut neckline.

“You’re going to come,” she sighed. “Pull
up your shirt so I can see.”

He tugged his t-shirt up fast, exposing his
stomach and the trail of hair leading toward his groin. “You stayed on top of
me?”

“Yes. It’d been a while. And we didn’t
really do foreplay.”

Alex paused, breathing hard. “What? Did I
hurt you?”

“Relax. You’re large, but you’re not
scary.” She grinned. “It felt so good, sinking onto you, taking you hard and
fast like that. And God, the expression on your face, the way you looked up at
me.”

“Vi.” His hand kicked back into motion. He
couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. The woman was truly inspirational when it
came to talking dirty. Sure as hell, he felt inspired. “Don’t stop.”

Her hand slid over her stomach and
downwards. She ground the heel of her palm into the top of her pussy for a
moment. Pushing against the layers of clothing, trying to get at her clit, no
doubt.

“Did you come, riding me?” he asked, so
close now.

She nodded jerkily. “Yeah. It’s easy on
top. Harder in other positions.”

“Keep going,” he gasped, his whole body
tense and his hips moving. His head full of thoughts of Vi in other positions.
In any position with him buried inside her. “Nearly there.”

“You had your hands on my breasts,
squeezing them. And I didn’t stop until I came. It was so good, I didn’t even
realize you hadn’t. But you grabbed my hips and you were pushing up into me,
really hard. And—”

“Vi,” he groaned. Come spurted out of his
cock and onto his belly, running hot over the side of his still moving hand.
Gray noise filled his head and the lights flickered. Fuck yes. Slower and
slower his fingers stroked, milking the last drops. She didn’t take her eyes
off him and no way could he look away.

“It hurts,” she whispered.

He beckoned to her with his clean hand.
“Come here.”

But instead she pushed her body back into
the chair, blinking furiously as if she’d woken startled from a dream. All the
heat and hunger dropped from her face.

“At least you used my name this time,” she
said.

What the fuck?

“Last time, you called me Jane,” she
explained.

No, no, no. Shit.
His jaw turned to stone.

“Who is she?” Vi asked.

“My ex-wife.”

She gave him a grim smile. “Of course she
is.”

Talk about a hard landing after the high.
He felt hollow inside. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, balled it up and
tried to clean himself. “I, umm—”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry too. These
things happen, right? Why don’t we both just be about our business?”

“Yeah. Violet, was this some sort of
revenge for you? Because, I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty fucking small
right now.” Come was sticky shit and it was all over him and his fast-deflating
cock. Fuck it. He threw down the shirt, yanked up his underwear and jeans,
covering himself quickly. All the better to get rid of the feeling that she’d
just ripped him open for her own amusement. “Is that what you wanted? To bring
me down to size?”

“No.” She blinked some more, eyes
alarmingly bright. “Honestly, I’m not sure what this was. But you started it. I
didn’t ask you to come in here.”

“Fuck me.” He ground his teeth and tried to
hold back the anger bubbling up inside. “No, you just asked me to get my dick
out and perform for you.”

“True.” The woman stood and straightened
her dress. “I guess we’re both to blame. Again.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Guess so.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, her legs shook as
she crossed to the door and flicked the lock. But it didn’t make him feel any
better.

She cleared her throat. “I love my new job,
Alex. And you’re clearly still in love your ex-wife.”

She was wrong. Worlds and worlds of wrong.
But what could he say?

Vi walked out the door and he was grateful
for it.

What drove Alex nuts was his inability to
ignore her.

After he’d snapped at his little brother
for the umpteenth time, Duncan had exiled him to the back office. Alex could
prepare the paperwork in order for tax time. Three hours had passed since then.
The same screen still sat on the computer monitor, not one iota of information
added to the neat columns of figures. They were a blur before his eyes.
Meaningless gobbledygook.

At least, hidden in the office, he couldn’t
be tempted to watch her. But it did mean he was trapped in the same room where
they’d last butted heads and messed with body fluids. What a fucking unwelcome
memory. He’d done his best to purge it.

First, he’d relocated the chair she’d sat
in to a storage room. In fact, both of the wooden chairs were gone, because he
couldn’t be sure which one she’d used. As truly remarkable as he found her
round derriere to be, it left no obvious impression in hardwood. So they both
went.

Not overkill in the least.

He could man up and forgive himself for feeling
a little sensitive about the whole thing. The last year had been a tough one
and his run-in with Violet just capped it off. It was better with the chairs
gone. He felt less messy, more himself.

Except for the leather couch sitting
directly opposite. It mocked him.

The memory of jerking off in front of her
was far too fresh. What a fool he’d been, an overheated, horny idiot with his
dick in his hand and his heart on his sleeve. The lounge had to go. And really,
the damn thing had been there for decades at least. Their dad had brought it.
Time for a change.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, resigned.

How heavy could it be?

Turned out, lots. He had the three-seater
monster pulled away from the wall and was straining to get it near the doorway
when Violet came rushing in. She gripped her hand tightly with a bloody napkin
wrapped around one finger. His throat squeezed.

“What have you done?” he barked.

“It’s just a little cut. Where’s the first
aid?”

Alex grabbed her wrist and towed her toward
the cabinet. “What happened? Show me.”

“I was wiping off a blade with a cloth.
Wasn’t paying enough attention. Stupid.” She fussed about in the open cabinet
while he examined the bloodstained napkin. Ah shit, what a mess.

“It probably needs stitches.” He tried to
look at it, but the blood made his head swim. He’d never been good around the
stuff. It made him all sorts of squeamish. Instead he concentrated on her high,
fancy hairdo and the pair of chopsticks she had sticking out of it. She wore a
black kimono-type dress to match. Low-cut neckline, damn her. “I’ll just drive
you to the hospital. That’ll be best. They’ll deal with it.”

“What? No, it’s fine.” Vi tore into an
antiseptic wipe and started picking away the napkin.

He couldn’t look. The thought that she’d
hurt herself, that
that
was her blood… Actually, the thought of any
blood at all pretty much did it. He tried not to gag.

“Alex?”

“Mm?”

She tore off the last of the napkin and
blood oozed from a slice below her pinkie finger’s second knuckle. “Are you all
right? You’ve gone really pale.”

“I don’t like blood.”

“I see. Why don’t you go sit down?”

“Yeah. I might do that.” Happily, it was
only a few steps to the lounge since it now sat in the middle of the room.
Deep, even breaths and he’d be fine. He just couldn’t look at her. But really,
there was nothing new in that. He heard a Band-Aid being ripped open. Little
shuffling noises as she dealt with the wound. The buzzing in his head gradually
calmed. His stomach settled. “You’re sure it isn’t deep? You don’t need stitches?”

“No, it’s fine. I really should have been
watching what I was doing more carefully.”

He nodded, studied the floor. Had she been
as preoccupied as him, then?

“Everything okay?” John asked from the
doorway.

“Yes,” said Vi. “It’s fine. I’ll be right
out.”

“Not with an open wound. We’re nearly
finished for the night. Head home,” his brother said and then scowled at him.
“Dude, the lounge now? Seriously?”

“It’s time for a change,” Alex said.

John just stared.

“It’s old!”

His elder brother turned and left with a
sigh, but no further words. Thankfully.

Alex could feel her eyes on him. Not the
most comfortable sensation. The smile he gave her felt plastic, fake. “All
better?”

“Yes.” She looked around, eyes lingering on
the space where the wooden chairs had been. Then the space where the lounge now
sat, with him on it.

“Redecorating?” she enquired.

“Yep. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I can drive,” she said. “Thanks.”

“You’ve just been injured in the
workplace.”

“Alex, it’s a glorified paper cut. You’re
the one who nearly fainted.”

“Please.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it with
a snap. “Look, I don’t think us being alone together is a good idea. Surely you
can see that. The cut’s tiny—”

“Hey,” Duncan strode in, oblivious. “John
said you needed a hand moving the couch?”

“Ah, yeah. That’d be great,” said Alex.
“Vi, just gimme a minute here, all right?”

Even her glare was cute.

He should probably just have “idiot”
tattooed on his forehead and be done with it.

“Let me do this first,” he said. “Then
we’ll check on your finger. If it’s stopped bleeding and you’re feeling fine
then no problem. Okay?”

Eventually she nodded.

“Good.”

Normally, Violet would have enjoyed the
sight of two pretty men stretching and straining, with muscles flexing. But
these were two of her bosses. Seeing them in any sort of appreciative sexual
light was bad-girl behavior. Still, the big old leather lounge had to weigh a
ton. Alex and Duncan grunted and heaved and maneuvered it along the hallway
then down a set of stairs into the basement.

“Shit,” Alex panted. “Vi, can you please
get the doors open?”

“Umm…” She hesitated, standing behind them
and their load. There wasn’t a lot of clearance room between the men, the
lounge and the wall.

“Move over a bit,” Alex said. “Give her
some space.”

They did so. Damn it. Her hefty hips
weren’t going to squeeze through easily. This wouldn’t be pretty.

“Come on,” said Alex.

“Right.” She pressed herself against the
wall and did her best to slide herself along. Her boobs stuck out and her butt
caught on stuff but she managed to reach the far end. Finally. Without meeting
Alex’s gaze.

The storeroom had two big old wooden doors
with a barrel bolt up top and another down the bottom. It took some serious
wriggling to get those bastards unlocked. Dust and stale air greeted her as she
pushed the doors open and got out of the guys’ way.

“Light, please.” Alex nodded to a cord
hanging down from an old-style lighting fixture in the middle of the room. She
tugged on the string and the place lit up.

The middle of the space was empty, but the
rest was cluttered with junk. There were some other chairs and a line of
shelving with bottles lined up neatly. Some old signage leaned against one
wall. How fascinating. The Southern Cross Pub had to be almost a century old
and this collection reflected that. Towers of boxes stood stacked in the corner
along with a collection of dusty old paintings. Gorgeous old painted velvet
pictures from the sixties of buxom girls in bikinis.

With a groan, Duncan lowered his end of the
lounge and Alex carefully followed suit. The musculature in his arms moved in
enticing ways. What she wouldn’t give to trace it with her tongue. Her pussy
squeezed tight, sadly empty. Honestly, girl bits shouldn’t clench. It had to be
bad for her health on some level. Looking at the bikini babes was much safer.

“These are great,” she said.

“Hmm?” Alex came up behind her, still
breathing heavy from lugging the lounge about. “Huh. I haven’t seen those in
years. Mum was mad about Elvis. She loved
Blue Hawaii
. Everything was
coconut shells and leis for a while there.”

“Sounds cool.”

“It was interesting. Dad did his best to
ignore it. He was more a footie and pie and peas kind of man.”

Beneath her silk dress, the skin on her
back prickled in awareness. She couldn’t think straight with him that close.
Her mind had officially checked out for the evening. She had nothing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, and she could hear the
smile in his voice at the memory. Marie had told her their parents had passed
away a while back. What good people they’d been. Vi’s heart ached for him.

“How’s your hand?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine.”

Which was when she heard the scrape of the
bottom of the door across the floor. Next came the noise of bolts being jammed
back into their locks, first the top and then the bottom. She spun around, as
did Alex. The doors were indeed closed. They were locked in.

“Duncan!” he yelled, running to the door
and banging on it with both fists. “Open up! Duncan! God damn it, this is not
funny!”

There was no reply.

Of course there was no reply. It’s not like
locking them in could have been an accident.

The doors didn’t open, no matter how hard
Alex pounded on them. And he did. But with the music still pumping above, no
one would have heard him. Apparently this didn’t bother Alex, because he went
on and on, trying to break the doors off their hinges. There seemed little
point in joining in, the man ranted and raved enough for both of them.

She sat herself down on the lounge, bemused
or bewildered. It was hard to tell which. For certain, she’d been involved in
some nonsense in her time, but this felt like pure high school tomfoolery.

Alex just carried on.

Eventually, he stopped. His hands hung
clenched at his sides and the veins in his arms stood out in stark relief. The
muscles in his neck seemed to have thickened in rage. And yes, she was angry
too, but did he have to mind quite so much? A stupid thought, but it was there
nonetheless.

“Are you all right?” she asked politely.

He grunted some sort of reply.

Fine, if that’s the way he wanted to play
it. No problemo. The music from the bar thudded through the floor, the noise
muffled, as though they were listening to it underwater. She smoothed out the
skirt of her dress and crossed her ankles.

Breathed.

Waited.

Alex kept his back firmly to her. God, he
was behaving like a jerk. Why did she always sleep with the jerks? Why? She
really needed to know.

He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound.
Conversation was overrated, anyway. Pity she couldn’t keep herself quiet. Nervy
situations did that to her.

“So, your brother locked us in here
together,” she said, stating the obvious.

“So it would seem,” he ground out. The man
turned, fisted hands propped on his hips and face starkly furious.

“Do you and your siblings normally get up
to these sorts of hijinks?”

He gave her an even frownier face. It only
spurred her on.

“You know, like locking people in a room
together?” she asked. “Drawing up breast size flow charts? Those sorts of
things?”

Alex wandered over, arms crossed. “What,
like taking advantage of your inebriated boss? Demanding he jerk off in front
of you? Those sorts of things? That what you mean, Vi?”

“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I’m not the one
who locked us in here,” she said, her chin inching higher. “Besides, those
things were different.”

“Really? Were they?” He threw himself onto
the lounge beside her, making her cushion bounce. He stretched his arms out
across the back of the chair, as was his wont. Not touching her, just coming
very close. His frown suddenly softened into something else entirely and the
air left him on a sigh. The man was mercurial. She couldn’t keep up.

“Not those sorts of things, huh?” he asked.
“Sound like hijinks to me.”

A hint of a smile from him and her guard
dropped like her knickers that night at the party. God it was depressing. She
could feel them dragging down around her ankles. Leaving her completely
defenceless, damn it.

She did her best not to smile back at him.
“No. They’re closer to shenanigans. And shenanigans are entirely different.”

“Are they now?” he asked, eyes amused. “How
about that.”

She nodded, pretending not to notice when
he shifted closer. As if she could ignore him. What a myth. She crossed her
legs, leaning ever so slightly in the opposite direction, trying to keep a safe
distance between them. And she kept right on leaning until she overbalanced and
fell into the arm rest with a squeak. Because she had all the style, didn’t
she?

Alex looked away too late, she’d already
caught his grin.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said, righting herself.

He nodded, still trying to cover the grin.
“I am sorry about this. Duncan has a stupid sense of humor at times. I don’t
think he was spanked enough as a child.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He gave her a smile and shrug combo.

“And at least you got the furniture moved.”

“True,” he said with a sigh. “I didn’t want
it there reminding me of you. See, you’re the only woman I’ve been interested
in, in a very long time. And it’s hard enough with you working in the
restaurant. Didn’t need the reminder right in front of me in the office. I hope
you don’t mind me being honest.”

“Not at all.” She flinched.

Alex rose to his feet and wandered over to
the rows of dusty bottles. “My old man went through a stage of making his own
liqueurs.” He leaned in, checking out the labels. Then he selected one. With a
quick smile over his shoulder at her, he unscrewed the lid. “This is going to
be potent.”