Salvation (17 page)

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Authors: Alexa Land

BOOK: Salvation
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“I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks. My backpack is next to the
front door.”

Vincent went to the double doors and
kicked his shoes off, then stepped into the kitchen. “Wait,” I called after
him, rushing toward the house. He turned toward me with a questioning
expression and a raised eyebrow. “Um…don’t look in the shopping bags,” I
mumbled.

“Why not?”

“Because if you do, I’ll die of
embarrassment.”

He grinned a little. “Why? What’s in
them?”

“Nana sent along a few things. Let’s
just say she’s a very
modern
fairy godmother.”

“Well, now I’m curious,” he said, his
grin getting a little bigger. He turned and disappeared into the house.

I yelled after him, “I didn’t have
anything to do with it, I swear! Nana’s driver brought the bags into the house,
I had no idea what was inside them!”

I knew he’d reached the foyer when I
heard his bark of laughter. He reappeared in the kitchen a few moments later
carrying all three bags (but not my backpack).

“I told you not to look!” I exclaimed.

“I know, but one of the bags was
vibrating! How was I not going to check that out?” He set the bags on the
enormous kitchen island and began unpacking them, while I stood right outside
the door with my hands on my hips. He started with the huge box of condoms.
“It’s a ninety-six pack. That
might
last us ‘til Wednesday,” he teased.
The bottle was next. “This half-gallon of lube is clearly not enough, though.”

“It isn’t?”

“Nope. I’m planning to set up a
mile-long slip ‘n slide later and this’ll barely cover it,” he said with a
straight face. A big handful of brightly colored briefs was next. “Oh my.” He
piled them on the counter, then untangled a skimpy neon yellow pair and
stretched them between the index fingers of both hands. “Well, damn. I owe Nana
a
really good
Christmas present this year.” I blushed as he returned
them to the pile.

He glanced into the bag, then reached in
and did something that made it stop humming and vibrating. “The rest of this is
a bit unsettling, though. I mean, I’ve had my entire life to get used to Nana
and her particular brand of crazy. But still, I somehow put it past her to go
out and buy sex toys.”

“She took her gay hairstylist along. I’m
going to go ahead and assume the toys were Mr. Mario’s doing.”

Vincent considered that for a moment,
then picked the bag up by the handles and set it on the floor. “I don’t know if
I should thank Mr. Mario, or lecture him for letting Nana do this.”

“I’m guessing he was coerced.”

“You’re probably right.” He pulled
another bag toward him and plucked out the white tissue paper as he said, “Now
what did those two do for an encore?”

“Oh, I think that one’s clothing. Just
leave it packed up so she can return it.”

“Why?” he asked, peering into the bag
and pulling out a light blue t-shirt. “This would actually look really nice on
you. It’d bring out your eyes.”

“Nana must have spent a ton of money on
me, and I can’t accept it.”

“She’ll be hurt if you don’t wear this
stuff. Besides, she’ll never take it back, not in a million years.” He pulled a
couple pairs of shorts out of the bag and grinned at me. “Plus, you’d look
really cute in this stuff.”

“I’m not cute already?”

He smiled at me sincerely. “You’re
adorable.”

“Dude, I was kidding. I mean, look at
me.”

“I am.” He came around the kitchen
island and stood in the doorway, directly in front of me. “You’re cute even
when you’re disguised as Astroturf.” He reached up and plucked a blade of grass
off the tip of my nose.

“That’s it,” I said, turning and heading
toward the path through the foliage. “I’m going to get a shower.”

The infinity pool I discovered just past
the landscaping looked like it belonged in a high-end resort. A cabana on the
far side of the sparkling blue waters had a spa-worthy outdoor shower attached
to its right wall, which I got going before stripping down to my boxers and
stepping under the warm water. It felt odd to shower outdoors, even though the
nearest neighbor was about half a mile down the beach and not actually in sight
of the pool area.

“You skipped a step,” Vincent said. He’d
brought me a towel, along with a few articles of clothing from the shopping
bag. He set them on a nearby cushioned lounge chair, then came up to me and
said, “Do you always shower in boxers?”

“Yeah. All the time. I normally shower
outdoors, too. It’s all part of my swanky poolside lifestyle.” I tilted my face
into the water and scrubbed my palms over my cheeks before turning to face him.

“You got a haircut,” he observed. “It
looks nice.”

“Thanks. Skye cut it for me. He did a
surprisingly decent job.” I let the water run over my hair next, closing my
eyes and tipping my head back.

When I opened them I drew in my breath.
Vincent was right in front of me, so close that some of the spray was landing
on his chest. His brows were knit above his glasses, and he was staring at my
midsection. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he murmured.

He reached out and very gently ran his
fingertips horizontally across my stomach, which made me tense up
automatically. I had a big, nasty-looking scar there. “What happened to you,
Trevor?”

“I got shot,” I answered honestly. “It
happened when I was six. It looks that bad because the doctors had to keep
cutting me as I got older. The scar tissue wouldn’t stretch to accommodate my
growth.”

“Is that why you hate guns?” His voice
was really quiet.

“Yeah.”

“Who shot you?” He remained focused on
my scar.

“My mom.” Now he met my gaze, his eyes
wide, startled. He didn’t ask the question, but the word
why
was written
all over his face. “She didn’t plan to shoot me,” I explained. “She was aiming
for her boyfriend Red, but I got between him and the bullet.”

“On purpose?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you do that, Trevor?”

“Because I loved Red and didn’t want him
to die,” I said.

“Where is he now?”

“No idea. I’d hoped he’d adopt me after
my mom went to jail, but he didn’t want me. Not even after I saved his life.” I
didn’t know why I admitted that. It sounded so pathetic.

Vincent pulled me into his arms. “I’m so
sorry that happened to you.”

I held onto him and said quietly, “It’s
in the past now. I survived, that’s all that matters.”

After a while, he looked into my eyes.
We watched each other for a long moment, and then I stretched up and kissed
him, softly at first. When I deepened the kiss, Vincent pulled back and met my
gaze as he asked, “What are you doing?”

“I want this, Vincent. I want you. I
kept trying to call and tell you that. You wouldn’t pick up the phone though,
and I felt stupid confessing my feelings to your voice mail.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.”

For a minute there, I really thought he
was going to shoot me down. A dozen rebuttals flickered subtly across his
features. But then he apparently reached some kind of resolution and kissed me
tenderly.

Our kisses soon turned hungry, all the
lust and attraction between us finally given free rein. Vincent pushed me
against the shower’s single wall, a warm ocean breeze blowing over our wet
skin, and tasted my mouth as his hands caressed my body. He tugged down my
underwear, exposing my erection, and I stepped out of the boxers as I
unbuttoned his shorts with shaking hands. 

As soon as I got the shorts unzipped my
hand was inside them, massaging his big hard-on through the fabric of his
briefs. But then he began kissing his way down my chest and stomach, dropping
to his knees. I cried out when his warm lips wrapped around my cock, his hands
cupping my butt and pulling me deeper into his mouth.

Pleasure radiated through my body. I was
glad I was leaning against the wall, because it was the only thing holding me
up. As he sucked me faster and deeper, primal moans tore from me. Under normal
circumstances that would have been really embarrassing, but I was too consumed
with lust to care. I tangled my fingers in his hair, trying to fight the urge
to drive myself into his mouth. But then he started to do it for me, grabbing
my hips and rocking me forward, taking my cock so deeply that his nose met my
stomach on each thrust.

It was so intense, so insanely good that
far too soon I ground out, “Oh God, I’m gonna cum.” He didn’t pull off, so a
few moments later I came in his mouth, crying out as that powerful orgasm tore
through me, grabbing his head with both hands, holding him to me. He sucked me
hard, then tapered off along with the force of my orgasm until he was gently
licking my cock. When I was finally spent I dropped to my knees in front of
him, still holding his head, and kissed him. There was an unfamiliar taste on
his lips, and when I realized what I was tasting, it was surprisingly erotic. I
ran my tongue over his, tasting more of me.

When I pulled back to look at him, he
smiled at me. It was open and joyous and totally unguarded, his dark eyes
sparkling. I smiled at him too, running my palm over the bulge in his briefs,
and asked, “Do I get to take care of you now?”

“Later,” he said, drawing me into his
arms and leaning against the cedar wall, then reaching up with one hand and
turning off the shower. “Just rest for a minute, that seemed to take a lot out
of you.”

I laughed embarrassedly, and when he
shot me a quizzical look, I said, “Yeah, that did
take a lot out of me
.
In more ways than one.” He chuckled and drew me against his chest, and as I ran
my hands over his wet skin I said softly, “Thanks for doing that for me. It’s
hands-down the best birthday present I’ve ever received.”

He pulled back to meet my gaze. There
were water droplets on his glasses and I used the side of my index finger to
clear them, like a little windshield wiper. “Is that really what today is?”
When I nodded, he said, “I can’t believe Nana Shanghaied you on your birthday! I
don’t have a vehicle here, but I’ll call a car service and have it take you
back to the city.”

“Why?”

“So you can celebrate. Maybe if you call
your friends right away and tell them your plans are back on, they’ll still be
available.”

“I didn’t have any plans, Vincent.”

“Are you twenty-one today?” When I
nodded, he looked puzzled. “You didn’t have plans on your twenty-first
birthday?”

“It’s just another day.”

Understanding registered in his eyes. He
said gently, “No one ever celebrated your birthday when you were growing up,
did they?”

“Nah. I mean, my mom was a train wreck
even before she went to jail, and my dad took off when I was a toddler. I was
raised by my widowed uncle, but he didn’t care about much of anything, besides
the monthly check he got from child welfare for letting me stay with him. He
didn’t even acknowledge his own daughter’s birthday, let alone mine.” I sighed
and added, “I hate talking about my childhood. It sounds so pathetic. But here
I am, I survived it, so what does any of that matter, really?”

Vincent watched me for a long moment,
and then he got up and turned the shower back on before holding his hand out to
me. “What are we doing?” I asked as I let him pull me to my feet.

“First, we’re cleaning you properly. I
interrupted your shower, and you’re still a little green in spots. After that,
we’re going to celebrate your birthday. We’ll do whatever you want. My only two
requests are that you let me bake you a cake, and that we drink copious amounts
of champagne, which will involve raiding Johnnie’s truly outstanding wine
cellar.”

I grinned as I slipped my hands around
Vincent’s waist. “Anything I want, huh?” He nodded, and I said, “Wow, I really
have to think about how to best take advantage of that offer.”

He grinned too as he hooked his thumbs
in the waistband of his shorts, then pushed them and his underwear to the
ground and stepped out of them. “There, that might help you take full
advantage.”

I ran my gaze down his muscular,
flawless body and heavy cock as I muttered, “Well, damn. Let’s hurry up with
this shower, so we can get to the celebrating.”

“Showers can be fun, too,” he said. To
illustrate his point, he dispensed some amber-colored soap into his palm from
the container mounted to the wall and rubbed his hands together. Then he began
to slowly and sensually massage it into my damp skin, enveloping me in a
citrus-scented lather.

“I see your point,” I murmured, resting
my hands on his shoulders as he started shampooing my hair. It felt
so good
.
I closed my eyes and just let him take care of me.

When I was completely clean he tried to
talk me out of reciprocating, saying it was my day to be pampered, but I
insisted on returning the favor and washed him the way he’d washed me. I
explored his powerful body with my hands, the front of him first, then the
back. When I got to his gorgeous butt, I noticed the remnants of an old, faded
out bruise, about three inches long and half an inch high, running horizontally
across his right cheek. It was a little odd, but then, as someone who bruised
easily and often had random marks on my body, I didn’t give it a lot of
thought.

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