chapter 8

Vincent, freshly bathed with beads of water gathering at the fringe of his dark, dark mop and a towel dangerously low on his narrow hips was a sight to behold.

But perhaps even more appetising, was a half-naked Blue, arm thrown over her eyes, hair sitting in a mass beneath her, his own tee-shirt ridden up around her stomach and briefless nether region on full display to the prying eyes of a particularly aroused and thoroughly showered man. Despite the primal instinct to amend her nakedness with his own mouth and take on his tongue what he longed to taste so dearly, he shifted his weight with a sigh against the doorframe and watched the full frame of his dear wife become cast with his own shadow. "Ever since I met you, I've pictured you in my bed like this,"

He watched the sheets twist as she moved to meet his gaze and her hair caught beneath her shoulder. Quite contagiously, she smiled. "You have?" There was a certain edge to her voice, as though she had just eaten and had been taken by a spell of mucus through her oesophagus — as though she hadn't spoken for hours and neglected to pause and clear her throat. The darkness enveloping her shrunk with his every step forward until all that remained was a fraction of the looming shadow that had been. Much to his delight, a sliver of the bathroom light fell between her legs — and the other over her just opened mouth. Knowing very well where his eyes lay, she lifted her hips and shifted as though she were uncomfortable... and as her legs parted almost momentarily and her shirt lifted even further, she found a rough hand taking the meat of her thigh in his grip and forcing apart her legs.

"Don't tease me," though his gaze flickered to her own momentarily, there was a rather careful sweep back to the flesh which shone with an inviting dew beneath the shy light. She couldn't hide her arousal visibly, let alone physically as a thumb swept along her length and he tested the waters in a deliberate tease of his own. "You'll never get away with it,"

The girl looked up through hooded eyes at the gaze so occupied by her nakedness, "make love to me," was a gentle plea in a shy murmur, her hands fisting the pillow just beyond the reach of her head.

"Oh, I will..." and as his hand left her core and took a hold of the fatty love handles he'd come to long for, her mouth opened invitingly. An invitation he took full advantage of.

With little more than a warning kiss, his lips slipped around hers and his tongue tentatively searched for her own. More intoxicatingly, she felt the absence of the damp towel she hadn't noticed he dropped as he lowered his hips to hers and the heat of his member greeted her own. Blue's head spun as she felt his flesh graze hers — a mocking 'hey, how are you going?' with a gentle rock of his hips sliding up and down her entrance rather painfully. Before she could so much as beg for him to cover her bareness completely with his own, she felt a rather crass shift of his length inside of her and a shameless moan rise to her lips. That was it. In little more than fifteen seconds, she had found herself completely victim to the instinctual need to orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.

Less focused on the movements of his hands slowly twisting through her hair and more on the pressing matter of the force to which he was gently fücking her, she found herself grunting softly. Her own hands squeezing his shoulders. Her knees clutching at his sides. She was all but trapping him just where she wanted him; hooked inside of her, bucking steadily and tugging at her hair ever-so-gently. With a sweep of his nose, she found his lips leaving her own and instead meeting the tender skin in the crook of her collarbone as though he knew exactly how to drive her over the edge.

Perhaps he did. And with the shy pinch of his teeth, as he took her skin in a bite and the slow rock of his hips as he explored her rather crudely, it felt completely as though he did. Stiffly and quietly, she gave way to a broken moan.

"I don't know why you're trying so hard to keep quiet..." The words came as a rough sigh into the warmth of her rising and falling chest, "...we don't have to worry about your dad sleeping in the other room," and as she tried so hard to press her lips together and ignore the devious movement of his mouth sucking and pulling at the skin of her lips, she failed oh-so-bitterly. She grunted rather loudly. She felt heat spring to her face. "Oh, come on, just give it up already," he pulled back rather slowly, and in a strange moment, as their eyes met and their hips rested completely together, he felt he could see more of her than he ever had. She was timid — shy, even — too afraid of embarrassing herself to make any sound... not as bold as she was when intoxicated... somehow, it turned him on even more. "Have I really got to hit you to make you scream?"

With parted lips and shaking hands, Blue lifted her chin to the man who seemed to be her only anchor to reality given the certain movements he had taken to. "Do it," and before she could brace herself, she found a solid hand grasping her neck. With flexing fingers and lips lingering just above hers, he pressed his hips rather shamelessly against her own and filled her in a way she had never appreciated quite as much. With a rather genuine pout, Blue found herself whining, "that's just mean,"

"How so?" Blue gritted her teeth rather painfully, his breath fanning across her mouth and warming the tip of her nose in a way only teasing. She wanted nothing more than for him to close the distance between them and kiss her in the very way he had mere moments before. "Do tell, Ms Pierce,"

"It's Mrs Carmichael, to you," the words came in a hiss, and rather delightfully, he watched her jaw flex and her eyebrows furrow as his hand tightened and his hips bucked against hers rather forcefully. She felt her tee-shirt lift beneath her even more. She felt her hair knot at the back of her head. She felt her head spin and her nails tug against the skin of her fingers as she dug them into the man's flexing back. Her cheeks darkened even more.

"Do you like breathing, Mrs Carmichael?" With wide eyes, Blue found herself lowering her hands from Vincent's shoulders and instead fisting the sheets beneath them rather excitedly. With a hard stare and a firm jaw, Vincent sneered at the girl beneath him. Before he could stop himself, he found his grip firming and his knuckles whitening. "Tell me," In all honesty, he couldn't care less for what she had to say — he already knew the answer. With some sick pleasure, all he wanted was to watch her try to speak as he shafted her so aggressively and ensured she could manage no more than odd rasping breaths. With a quick hook of his hips and a jerk of his hand pressing her even more firmly into the pillow which had almost escaped her, Blue cried out. And she cried out loudly.

With one last shove of his hand, he drove Blue's head into the pillow and released her. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Before she could stop herself, she fumbled desperately for his shoulders. Before she could mutter a warning, Damien took the head that had become limp on her neck between his hands, forearms bracing the mattress either side of her, and fücked her like he didn't give a shit how sensitive she was. With eyes darting between her own, his breath brushed her face with every word. "Look at me," Blinking quickly, gasping for air having been released from his grip, their eyes met for one long moment, and she found herself unable to control her most basic urges. With his own breaths hastening and his thrusts failing to form a rhythm, he bowed his lips to her neck and took the skin between his teeth.

For the first time, Blue didn't stifle what rose in her throat and settle for a groan. Instead, she let out an echoing whimper of a moan as he hooked an arm around her waist and shoved his hips against her own. Suddenly, the girl who never dared to make a sound in climax fell victim to a long chorus composed of broken sobs of pleasure. As her knees shook and her hips arched to meet the disorderly thrusts which planted Vincent's orgasm inside of her, she let her head fall to the side; half in shame and half in pure ecstasy. "Christ," She muttered the word as though she was afraid he'd hear — but he did, she knew he would.

Gently, his nose nudged the tip of hers as though asking for permission to take her in a kiss... and as their lips locked, his hand which had been fisting the sheets so aggressively lifted to take her chin between two fingers. His voice was hoarse as he finally spoke, broken and low. Despite the delicate movements of his fingers and the gentleness of his kiss as his tongue sought hers shyly, there was an ever-present roughness in his tone and the scratch of third-day stubble. "I love you,"

Blue froze.

—

Married life certainly was a strange look for Blue. Even so, she seemed to be doing a better job of it at the ripe age of eighteen than Marion was at thirty-seven... not that Marion did much. Margie cleaned, Marion yelled at her to. Margie cooked, Marion made a mess of the dishes. Margie taught Blue the ABC's, Marion posted baby photos on Facebook.

Blue had taken to cooking surprisingly well. Vincent had painfully insisted that he prepare the meals and clean up the dishes after the spell of food poisoning Blue had suffered from a week of a hotel and restaurant food crash diet. But what could he really do about it while he was in a meeting and Blue was secretly boiling pasta? Lock her in her room? He'd have to take notes from Marion in order to do that... perhaps he'd limit her to breakfast and dinner only while he was at it. Maybe even go as far as to contract her into a secret non-consensual marriage.

Despite the hours on end of being left to her own devices, solitude spent knowing that Vincent would arrive later in the evening was solitude better spent than when her mother or the maid was in the room over. It was far less lonely with no one than it was with a house full of family and help alike, not that Blue cared to note the difference.

Vincent, on the other hand, seemed to make no adjustments to married life. It was something that Blue appreciated. One thing she had feared the most was that he would become lazy, like any other man the second there was a woman around to take care of them. He woke up at six-thirty in the morning like clockwork, no alarm needed, rolled over and placed a quick kiss on Blue's shoulder (who always turned onto her side in her sleep) and trudged into the kitchen where he made bedroom eyes at his beloved espresso machine while he waited for it to turn on.

He would let Blue sleep until seven, after which he'd gently wake her. He'd brush his teeth while she showered behind him, and every fourth day he'd shave, too. Sometimes, on the mornings she just couldn't keep her hands to herself, she'd take Vincent by the hand on her way to the shower and drag her in with him. Other mornings, she'd shower sitting down and fall asleep against the wall.

By eight, they'd be in his car and en route to the same buffet breakfast he'd eat every morning. It seemed the only difference in his morning as a whole had been the fact he had suddenly become exceptional at diving one-handed whilst the other was clasped with the girl's beside him. Blue had fought the idea that they go to that "stupid country club" using the fact that Richard somehow happened to be there every odd few days as her excuse... the truth was; unlimited bagels were not her waistline's greatest ally but were simply something she could not deny herself of.

Vincent somehow knew the truth, but there was nothing he'd come to enjoy more than insisting he join her in the change room of some store he didn't care to remember the name of and watching her try on clothes for hours on end. Besides, as awful as it sounded, there was nothing he hated more than a complete stick of a woman.

That morning, in particular, their plans had changed. So much so that Blue had been sitting at a bus stop just around the corner to the house she had fled so eagerly a mere two weeks before for twenty-five minutes on the dot. She had somehow forgotten her phone in her rush to leave the apartment after she had slept in.

It was a rather important morning, something Vincent didn't quite seem to grasp the concept of. Try as he had to deny it, he had let Blue oversleep intentionally. Unbeknownst to her, he had reason to believe an innocent Sunday brunch both Blue and Vincent had the pleasure of being invited to by Marian Pierce somehow involved an invitation to his beloved employee, Dick. When trying to convince her they should simply skip it had failed, he had kept her awake until early morning one way or another. So much so that she knew she'd have to correct her walk before she reached the front door — or she'd never hear the end of it from her mother.

Why Vincent had insisted on being the one to go first was beyond her. It would have made sense just the same for him to drop her off around the corner, drive off and come back and park half an hour later. Instead, he had dropped her off and sat in the nice, cool shaded indoors whilst Blue was forced to sit outside and wait for the window of suspicion to close. In all honesty, the half-hour had taken what felt like years to pass; all she could think of was mommy dearest running her hands all up and down her husband's arms. Not that it was Marian's fault; she had no clue Vincent was a taken man. Even worse, it was no one's fault but Bradley's that she was painfully neglected as a wife. Blue, on the other hand, could never imagine being left alone to go to sleep.

Fate seemed to favour her when the face answering the door was the very one she'd had between her legs for what must have been hours just a mere few prior. Truthfully, she didn't know if she could face her mother after having sat in the sun for half an hour more than she would in a week. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't been a-four-sheet-of-paper white. "Never make me sit in the sun again," as she muttered bitterly, she shoved past Vincent, and although she wanted to seem cross at him for insisting to go in first, she couldn't go through with it. The more she thought about it, the more it became apparent that he didn't want her to be alone with Richard.

"Hello to you, too,"

After peering down the hallway from the entryway in search of anyone who may stumble in on something no one wants to see, she hid herself behind the wall in a precaution — and only then did she turn back to face the man who had shut the door suspiciously quietly. "Where is everyone, why do I get the impression you're sneaking around?"

"I am," With a crooked smile, the man's wiry shoulders flexed beneath the polo shirt Blue would never admit she loved the look of as he crossed his arms. Suddenly, in a wave of lust and other things she had recently become victim to, she wanted nothing more than to have his hand underneath the skirt of her dress. "I wanted some alone time with you,"

"How did you know I was here? You didn't even let me ring the doorbell," She mirrored the action of him crossing his arms in an attempt to convince herself she wasn't as unnecessarily turned on as she was, something that she hoped would help her in pretending she was as angry as she wasn't. She paused. A small, shy smile overcame her. "Have you been standing here and staring out the window?"

"No," Slowly, he stepped forward. At that moment, Blue found Goosebumps springing over her shoulders and trailing down her back until she couldn't resist a shiver. "I've been sitting outside with your family, staring at Find My Friends,"

"Say that again, it kinda' turned me on," With a small, twisted smile, Blue let her arms fall to her sides and matched the limited strides Vincent had taken towards her. Before she could remind herself of the fact that any member of the Pierce household, employee or employer, could very well walk in at any given moment, Blue had rocked her hips against Vincent's and accepted his rough kiss as their stomachs met and he gripped her waist welcomingly.

"What? The part about me stalking you?"

"Oh, yeah,"

"You surprise me," the words came as a low groan — it seemed that Vincent had the sense to keep his voice down in an effort not to alert anyone of their very public hook up. "After last night I was so sure you'd keep your hands to yourself for a little while,"

"You don't make it easy to," With a sudden step, Blue found herself flattening against the wall with a certain firm mass pinning her down. With a shy smile, ever-so-aware of the hand which crept over the exposed portion of her chest and the fingertips which lingered by her chin, Blue found herself speaking in a rather raspy tone. "I'm not opposed to the idea, but are you about to choke me out again? In the hallway of my mother's house?"

"You sound awfully convinced that I won't,"

"Vincent?" With a flinch of surprise, Blue had shoved the man away from her, shrunk away into the corner of the entryway and straightened her hair with a speed she didn't know she was capable of. She had never been more thankful of the fact her feet ached too much to wear heels that morning — as odd as she felt in a sundress and sneakers of some variety, she owed it to her sneakers that she had made such a quick escape from Vincent's unforgiving grip without making the magnitude of sound she would have. "Did you get lost?"

"Mom!" hastily, she wiped at her lips and frantically stepped around the corner with her arms out — in the moment Vincent watched with a small, half-hidden smirk of amusement, Blue was too caught up in acting natural that she failed to notice just how out of character it was for her to hug her mother.

"Blue?" With a stiff smile, the woman searched for her daughter — with stiff arms, she folded her daughter into an embrace. And though she looked and felt appreciative of the fact that her only child wanted to hug her for the first time in god knows how long, she was awfully careful not to mess up her hair. "I didn't even know you were — when did you get here?"

"The bus just got here," She wasn't lying — it was something she had become good at; telling the truth without telling the truth. "I'm lucky Vincent was coming in, the doorbell wasn't working for me,"

With a drop of the placid smile Marian had surprisingly managed, she turned to the man. "A business call again? Do you not understand the point of a Sunday?"

"Insurance is a busy field; people are dying every day,"

"So," Blue began down the hallway, suddenly uncomfortable with the attention her mother was giving Vincent. "Where's the food? Please tell me there's food," and as much as Vincent wanted to wrap an arm around the girl's slender waist and mock her playfully about the breakfast she had eaten at home, all he could do was slip a hand into his pocket in an attempt to stifle the urge. In the absence of Blue's beloved physical affection, all he could do was trail behind as Marian ushered her towards what he dreaded most. Who he dreaded most. Richard.

"You know I don't say this in a bad way, Blue, I'm just your mother and I'm worried about you," Vincent watched her eagerly as she forced a smile and sent him a quick glance over the crown of her shoulder... somehow, he knew exactly what she was going to say. "But maybe you should skip the brunch — we've got that Harvard party soon, we need you to fit into that nice dress I bought you,"

"Buy her a new one," Even though Marian halted in her steps and he could see the woman's hand tighten around Blue's arm, he couldn't force himself to feel any sense of regret or remorse as Blue sent him a warning stare. He couldn't even bring himself to relax the jaw he knew was flexing as he ground his teeth. It was the same look he got when Blue climbed into his side of the bed when he wasn't quick enough to claim it... he had to protect what was his. "She looks great — you see too many girls who have nothing to them these days,"

Just as quickly as she had stopped, she was walking again — and dragging a poor Blue along with her. "Anyways, what are you wearing? I said smart casual,"

"I've got a dress on," Blue's reply was irritable in a certain way as she struggled to step in time with her mother. "Smart casual is any dress for girls and shirt and slacks for guys,"

"Any dress and heels, Blue, you know that," She paused again, tugging at her dress. It was a dress Vincent had bought for her the day prior when they had been out getting coffee — that very morning, he had come to know that Blue wasn't very big on coffee at all when it wasn't spiked. Strangely enough, she was fond of matcha. It was a dress with tee-shirt sleeves and a tie around the waist. Most importantly, with a perfect view of her chest. On any other day, Vincent would be happy she was wearing an older bra, merely due to the fact that it didn't fit at all and she was spilling out of the top... But that day, he didn't have the luxury of being able to ogle her as long as he pleased and undress her completely in any old bathroom he found fit. Worst of all, Richard was the only person who could get away with staring. "Not a dress and converse,"

Blue spun to face her mother, mouth hanging wide open. As she did, Vincent watched fondly as her dress blew open ever-so-slightly. With one kiss, Blue had managed to put him in the vilest of moods... "Heaven forbid,"

"Blue, are you always this rude to your mother?" Vincent smirked dangerously as he spoke — and as Blue turned back and gave him a questioning glare, she could see the deviance behind the smile. Oh, how she wished he didn't love to see her squirm.

"She's normally better than this," Marian spoke with an apologetic smile to the man who sauntered compared to the woman's struggling quick-stepped pace.

With a deviant glare and a stiff crossing of her arms, Blue found herself speaking before she could remind herself what the consequences were specifically for embarrassing Marian Pierce. "No, I'm not," and before she could stifle the sound, she had squealed in surprise as Marian's fingernails became well-acquainted with Blue's arm. She laughed rather loudly to mask the sound. "I kid, I kid... of course,"

And as Marian marched off to announce Blue's arrival and disappeared through the French doors leading outside, Blue found herself falling in step with Vincent and speaking in a whisper. "Is it too late to go home?" with wide eyes and a firm line where a distant smile usually sat, Blue looked anxious in a way he had never seen her.

Quickly and discreetly, Vincent took her hand in his, squeezed gently and released it. Smiling for her, he spoke in a murmur and held her gaze for a few long moments that seemed strangely private given the circumstances. "Say the word and I will take you home,"

"How, though? We're already here. We can't disappear..." Before she could dodge the gesture from fear of being caught, Vincent took the girls face between his hands, thumbs bracing the hollows of her cheeks and his eyes daring her own to look away... she wouldn't.

"That's for me to worry about," by the time she had resolved to lean forward and take his mouth in a kiss she didn't care who could see, he had stepped away and held the door open for her. In just a second, the eyes that looked at her as though she was both food in the middle of a famine and the only thing he'd lay his life down for regarded her as though she was little more than a passing stranger he'd never see again... At that moment, she truly wondered where, how and why he had become so good at hiding his feelings. Assuming he truly did have feelings for her.

With a small smile in Vincent's direction she tried so painfully hard to squeeze all the put your tongue in my mouth out of, she stepped outside, fully feeling the weight of the fact that she was no longer Mrs Carmichael, but rather Ms Pierce; professional show pony and Marian's bitch. As she tripped down a step, she found a hand grab her upper arm — and with a reluctance so deep that it could only stem from a fear of Richard alone, she met the eyes of whoever had fallen in step beside her. Before she could so much as mutter a "thank you" to Vincent's eyes which suddenly shone with the intensity of a thousand suns again or a urinary tract infection alike, she watched in the corner of her eye as his hand slipped to her own and the glint of her engagement ring and wedding band disappeared from her finger into his closed fist. She knew she had forgotten something.

"Blue!" Swallowing her pride and the last part of her free will that urged her to turn away and flee before Marian locked her inside the playpen, Blue spun on her feet and turned to greet the voice that haunted her 'I ate too much too late' nightmares.

"Richard, hello," with the fakest, stiffest smile the world had ever seen, she resolved to face the music before she really did run for the hills. "How are you? How have you been?"

"I've been good, keeping busy — which reminds me, my father is hosting a charity event next weekend, I'd love it if you came with me," She stiffened as he looped an arm around her own and steered her in the direction of the patio seat she knew he'd try to cram onto with her. There were only two ways that could go; they sat on an arm of the chair each, or he duped her into sitting on his lap. Somehow, she knew it could only be the latter.

"I don't know, I'll have to see... I'm in the middle of moving right now, you know? Settling in, getting ready for my first semester at college-"

"I'll let you think about it," with an arm hooking around her waist instead and a broad grin that reeked of beer despite just how early it really was, he tugged her into himself and looked at her as though he was about to go in for a kiss. Blue convinced herself she was about to vomit into her hands. "I'll send you a dress and an invitation just in case," looking around for a moment, he leant in, somehow assaulting her personal space further than he already had been, and bowed his mouth to her hear. His breath was wet, and his hand was dangerously close to slipping beneath her skirt. "Maybe send me a picture of you in it and I'll send something back,"

And as much as she wanted to shove him away from her and put a yard or two between them, she turned to meet his gaze, smiled kindly and muttered a stiff response. "Maybe, Richard,"

Before Marian could stop her, she broke away from Richard, met Vincent's gaze, picked up a glass she could only assume was her father's, and for the first time in her life, set it straight back down. "Don't run off just yet," as she searched the courtyard for some form of food, Richard trailed behind her eagerly. "I have some news to share with you,"

"Let me guess," She turned from the table hastily. All she could see for miles was cupcakes and tiered cakes of various descriptions — and oddly enough, nothing in the world made her feel more like she was about to vomit on Richard's shoes. "You're pregnant and it's mine?"

She watched the flustered man attempt to force a laugh, his body far too close to her own for her liking. "Not quite," With a hard stare that could have turned anyone but him away, Blue crossed her arms and looked up; hooded eyes masked by dark, thick lashes; full mouth set into a firm line. She was fighting the urge to slap him into tomorrow, quite frankly. "Your parents have decided on a date,"

She frowned a rather awful expression. "For what?" as she watched the man stiffly sink to a crouch, he seemed to abandon all efforts of taking to one knee and took to both instead — it was the price of wearing your best suit after you've put on one too many pounds to wear it... and yet here he was. As much as she wanted to convince herself he was giving a prayer, her heart halted at the sight of a glint between his fingers.

"The certificates are in order, the venue and catering are booked... all you have to do is choose a dress by next March," Vincent watched with a sneer and eyes he couldn't care enough to mask as Blue froze and all colour drained from her face. He knew she had to say yes — he had only hoped he had enough time to stay married to her before Marian intervened, knowing that an annulment was far easier than a divorce. An annulment it seemed it would be. And then they would be right where they started; Blue and adulterer and Vincent a cuckold... His wife being married off to the man of whom he'd never hated anyone more. His ex-wife. "I didn't want your parents to tell you because I wanted to do this properly,"

After a moment of silence that took the whole courtyard by storm, all eyes seemed to be on Blue. Nervously, she met her mother's gaze, who smiled proudly. In little more than a second, it all made sense. The brunch, the cake, the dress code, the photographer, the awkward time of the brunch, alone... she had walked into her own engagement party.

"I'm leaving," Blue turned on her heel and stormed through the back doors faster than she thought she would ever be able to with feet so tender and every part of her chest spilling out of the front of her dress. Before she could object, Vincent was trailing after her. Having given Marian a quick word about promising to get her daughter home safe given her vulnerable state, it was the perfect getaway.

Disregarding the circumstance.