chapter 8

Marian had been quite transparent in the fact that she had told Blue about the fact she was hosting a breakfast and who exactly was coming before it had happened. Because truthfully, that was the woman's habit — not informing her daughter of a social event until it was well underway as a strategy to prevent her from making an escape. Of course, it was all far too good to be true. Marian had neglected to tell her daughter that she was expected to sit for dinner with Richard the very same evening. At home. Closely supervised. No alcohol. No Vincent. No reprieve from a promise to be married in a year and in the family way in another.

"Your mother mentioned that you're Harvard bound — are you excited to start in a couple month's time?" though Richard had good intentions, his smile was sweet, his table manners were flawless, his prospects were promising, his eye contact didn't stray to other... assets and his body language indicated he was so into her (knees pointed towards her, hands resting near hers, gaze fixed against her own...), there was something creepy about the way he carried himself. And perhaps the fact he was a thirty-something-year-old man actively going after a seventeen-year-old girl who displayed no interest. And perhaps, the fact, that he simply wasn't Vincent.

But that's what Vincent was, wasn't it? A thirty-something-year-old man pining after a seventeen-year-old girl? Yet somehow it was just different for Vincent. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Blue who did the pining — or the fact that she displayed uttermost interest. Either could be equally plausible.

"I wouldn't say Harvard bound quite yet, I haven't gotten so much as a letter of acceptance," Blue did just as she was taught by her mother; break her gaze from his own, look down to her hand which rested only an inch from his, brush her knee against his own and then tuck her hair behind her ear — it was an act which displayed both shyness and longing. But why? Why was she trying so hard to get into Harvard through Richard who already seemed so taken by her? She didn't even want to get into Harvard. She hated the idea. She wanted nothing less, in fact. So why was she trying so hard to seduce him into securing her position without actually having to fuck the man? She drew her hand from his and straightened in her seat.

"I'd be more than happy to speak to a few people where I can — besides, I can see us becoming quite close in the near future," All Blue could develop internally was a sinking feeling of 'please don't tell me you've developed feelings already' and a quickly following 'I can't deal with being forced to lead him on if his damn feelings are involved'. "So, you've ought to have a boyfriend, surely,"

The words alone offered a feeling of Blue's skin simply crawling. Despite it all, no one seemed to be alarmed that Blue was being hit on by a middle-aged man when she was shy of being even a legal adult; she was a minor. She knew it. He knew it. Her parents knew it.. and yet no one was due to come in and break up the uncomfortably sexually charged exchange, as surely her mother would have the moral obligations to... Unless Vincent already waiting in a parked car on the curb only meters from the exchange counted.

Blue forced a short laugh for the brief moment she felt she could, and found herself tucking hair behind her ear. As she did the second time, it seemed to be no longer a tactic as part of a far larger strategy— this time, it was a movement of pure unease. A movement which reminded her the turn of illness in her stomach could not be cured by forcing down the meal due to be presented, but instead could be cured by leaving Richard's company. And in great speed, at that. "I'm afraid not, but thank you, that's pretty flattering,"

"You don't need to thank me, Blue," and just as Marian rounded the corner with an unnerving grin and a steaming dish gripped by oven mitt-clad hands as though she had made the meal herself, Richard slid a hand from the table's surface and instead rested it on Blue's thigh, fingers tucked just beneath the shy hem of her skirt—and just brushing the crease between her thigh and her hip. In other words, his hand was far closer to her vagina than would be socially acceptable without given consent.

"Look at you two — you're just meant for each other, aren't you?" the words sounded exceptionally more excited than they should have, seeing as the contents only suggested far more of a gushing tone than anything else.

Blue, knowing all to well that she would need to suck it up if she wanted to take her leave any time soon, forced a small smile and locked eyes with the man she had been forced upon for surely over an hour now. "It would seem that way, wouldn't it?" she paused almost carefully with the weight of knowing what she said next could determine whether or not she'd have to publicly flee from her own house or not... "I do hope we can meet again soon," and as she said it, she was careful to leave out the man's name — strictly due to the fact she had no idea what exactly it was. "Mom, please excuse me, I'm gonna have an early night tonight," and as the girl stood, she bent over and brushed her lips against Robert/Richard's cheek with a gentle gesture and offered her mother a brief smile as she made her exit. The moment she rounded the corner and began her climb of the stairs, she raked an arm over her lips. It was an evening she hoped she could forget quite quickly... The things she'd do for Vincent.

She felt like a criminal as she locked her bedroom door behind herself, switched off the lights and barrelled through her bedroom window — better yet, she looked to be a sociopath fleeing from the scene of a crime or perhaps just a relationship gone horribly wrong; no shoes, decently dressed, well-done hair... On second thought, Blue realised that perhaps it would have been best for her to pause to slip on some shoes after all.

Yet as she made an escape from the second floor and to the grass of her lawn bellow, she had never felt more alive — even as the cobblestoned driveway tore up her bare feet which took quick strides, and as she barrelled into a certain fixture with only a reflex grip on both of his wrists to slow herself. Had she not stopped dead in her tracks and taken a hold of Vincent, surely the pair would have both taken to the ground. Quick thinking, perhaps. Maybe just a need to hold him as her eyes fell on his. Perhaps a good mix of both.

"Blue! You've got to be more careful you crazy thing-" and it seemed he had the same idea she had the moment Blue became wrapped in a steadying embrace — the very same moment they made contact.

Blue couldn't help but laugh wildly as she drew herself away from the man and tugged him towards the bushes with a simple, hushed, "shh, quick, you have to hide — they can all see us from the living room!" ...and, in the same manner she fell victim to a fit of stifled laughter as she dove for the brick shelter of the front gate and dragged a slightly amused man in tow, he chuckled softly. With a hand twisted with Blue's and a charming sense of urgency, he lead the girl across the street with purposeful strides; and opened the driver's seat door of his car.

"Get in, you're my getaway driver," His tone remained just as hushed as hers and for little reason at all — though they could be seen, they certainly could not be heard as Blue ducked into the seat and tugged the door behind herself. But perhaps the illusion was the exaggerated threat of being caught. Perhaps the true worth of a scene where Blue was doubled over in stitches and Vincent was smuggling a five foot and eight inches, blonde, well-dressed woman into his car was in the fact that there was almost a narrative to it all. Run, don't make a sound, or feel the wrath of Marian and what was lying to get out of dinner with her future son in law.

"Care to enlighten me on who exactly was the pressing audience in the living room?" Vincent only spoke after he climbed in himself and swung the car door shut behind himself — as he did, his voice was soft and his eyes found hers through the warm glow of the car's overhead light. It was almost enough smoke and mirrors for her to forget that he was the very man who had fucked her the night before and pinned her against a wall only this morning.

"Oh, you know... my mum, dad... Richard,"

"Did he even leave after breakfast today, or did he spread gasoline on the floorboards during lunch so he could strike a match at dessert?" Vincent offered a small smile as he spoke and an inviting hand as he slipped it onto the girl's thigh — and though Richard had done the same thing only ten minutes before and her skin had crawled, Vincent's hand rested just above her knee. He was respectful about it, at the very least. Perhaps it was something Richard ought to take notes on.

And though his hand didn't slide up to the hem of her pantries in the same way Richard's did, the hand on the exposed flesh of her thigh was far more affectionate. In fact, the contact made Blue's heart quicken in her chest and her head spin with lust and attraction and all things good and arousing. "What a bad boss you are if you can't keep track of whether or not your employees return to work,"

"Exterminators are those who deal with animals, I believe, and last I checked I wasn't one of them," Blue laughed loudly as she soaked in Vincent's reply eagerly. The man was quite sharp, almost as sharp as she was. Better yet, he shared what seemed to be the exact same sense of humour she had — and what a perfect match that would be. A man finally not scared away by her dry remarks and inappropriate quips. "Did you at least get a meal out of his horrible company?"

"I fled before I could eat... anyone can only stand so much of him in one day,"

"Then I suppose it's settled,"

"Sorry?"

"I'm taking you to dinner — and that does give me an excuse to take you out for coffee another evening..." and with that, Blue cracked a rather broad smile. Vincent was something else entirely, that was for sure.

Her voice was low as she finally spoke again. But even then, there was something sweet and careful in the tone and the way her eyes searched his with flickering movements. "I like the sound of that," Perhaps the fact that her heart was soaring in her chest was at fault. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he made her so nervous and aroused and lovesick all at the very same time; perhaps it was simply because she had drunk at breakfast and hardly eaten since.

Though the words seemed as though they were words which would only be blunt, Vincent spoke with a gentle voice and delicate sweeps of his thumb against her thigh in a soothing motion — she wanted so desperately for him to shift his hand upwards just slightly and claim what was waiting for him beneath her skirt. It was his, she knew it; "his" in the sense she didn't want anyone else. "His" in the sense she seemed to bear a lust only for him. She wanted Vincent and Vincent only inside of her... it was a strange thought. "And what are you feeling like eating tonight? Sushi... Italian... Mexican...?"

"Italian sounds amazing," and so Blue did the only think she could think of which would invite the man to slip his hand beneath her skirt; she lifted a hand of her own and brushed it against his arm in an act to draw his attention. Then she made a beeline to his crotch.

There was something between them that almost seemed to be electric, for the want of a better word. Something magnetic in the way she felt as though she couldn't keep her hands off of him — something in the way she felt almost in pain when he was near her. She physically couldn't handle being in such near proximity without having her hands all over him, it felt. It seemed to be much the same for him. He felt some deeply rooted desire to reach some form of contact... Yet there was something painfully conflicting in the desire; it was a non-specific itch; he couldn't satisfy it. He always wanted something more than what he had. Though, of course, "strictly contact wise".

It was him to initiate the kiss with his hand lifting from her thigh and instead reaching to cup the side of her face. In a blink, the emerald of his stare fell behind lids. In another, she lifted her hand from where she palmed what she wanted so desperately and instead twisted the hand in her own skirt as though it would offer relief from the rush of wanting so dearly to have any part of him inside of her. Blue couldn't help but give in to the sensation of his mouth as it opened against hers and his breath as it tangled with her exhales. It was sweet and rich and enticing in every single way it could be. She fell victim to the very charms which had seduced her only the night before.

And though it was him to begin the kiss, it was Blue and her impulse control issues to climb over the centre console and onto the passenger side; which so happened to be onto Vincent. He couldn't bring himself to feel any shred of surprise or even opposition to the idea. In fact, he was quite pleased by the new... arrangement. That, she could feel, courtesy of her groin falling to rest against his own. Never before had she felt quite as complete and yet at such a large state of unrest at the very same time — in Vincent's company, such a state had seemed to become almost ordinary. For the very intensity of his kiss and his parted lips as they twisted with hers, she'd take on anything; even the state of conflict she was quickly becoming familiar with.

Vincent's hands were firm as they slipped beneath the shadows of what lay beyond the hem of Blue's skirt — yet his fingers were delicate as he slid a hand beneath the modesty of her underwear and along the length of her... warmth. Blue didn't have nearly the same regard for care as her hands fumbled to unclothe the man, yet there was something endearing in the way she struggled to remove his belt, something which just wouldn't be the same if she opted to move with slow and careful hands. After all, Vincent had far easier access to Blue, taking into account she wore a skirt and very little beneath. Perhaps she should have worn tights for the first time since her formative schooling years. Perhaps the challenge would do Vincent some good.

There was nothing that could prepare the man for the warmth that hid between Blue's thighs as she removed him from his pants and moved him to her own in a swift movement — better yet, there was nothing that could prepare him for the gentle graze of her underwear which had been lazily pushed to the side. It was a sensation that seemed to heighten the feeling alone of Blue drawing her hips from his and shifting her weight downwards again in a pace far too slow... Still, nothing could rival the feeling of her paces increasing and her hands grasping his shoulders with a painfully urgent grip. Nothing could rival the sounds of her grunts as her lips slipped from his and her head instead tucked beneath his chin affectionately — Nothing came close to her low moan as her hips bucked roughly against his and his hand fisted the hair at the back of her head to draw her mouth to his own once more.

As if it had never ceased, the kiss was filled with an intensity only likened to desperation, and though a hand remained threaded roughly through the tangles of the girl's hair, another cupped the curve of her hip with a grip borderline painful. The hand did little more than tug the girl's hips to his own as his member left her comforts — little more than remind him just how comfortably his hand fit against the bow to her thighs and how snuggly he fit inside of her. It was physically meant to be, or at least he told himself. Though her structure beckoned him, nothing was more alluring than the muffled cries, grunts and groans which fell between their locked lips of what sounded like discomfort but to Blue felt like the frustrating threat of bliss. It was a matter of excitement building in the depths of her stomach — a threat of a climax sure to send her into a frenzy. And so she met his jarring movements with an eagerness which shifted and rocked the vehicle and a shaking hand which fumbled for the switch to the light of the car's interior.

The dining room was left at an absence without Blue, that much was undeniable. Though her mother could say that there was an abundance of food prepared specifically for the girl's bottomless appetite, Blue never ate in company. That much could attest for the fact there was a dinner surplus for no other reason than showing off to Richard. Even then, the man felt nothing could rival the novelty of having a slab of meat with divine legs and a full head of hair by his side.

It was Marian to break only the chorus of cutlery interacting with china plates; "Is that what I think it is?"

It took little more than a moment for Bradley, begging for a reprieve from the sweet torture of awkward silence, to follow the gaze of his loving wife to a car with the internal light switched on — and hardly a moment more for the man to chuckle deeply. Never in his life had he been more grateful for public indecency; which was a strange sentence when left on its own. "If you think it's two people having sex in a car across the street, then yes," and though Marian slapped her husband playfully on the arm in an attempt to keep the joking on a roll, she feared the conversation had hit a roadblock yet again. Why did Richard have to be such a boring man?

"Don't be so crude, we have company," and just as Richard turned in his seat to peer through the living room window, he found the shadow of a car now shrouded in the darkness of a lack of internal light. Though it sounded strange to think as such, he wasn't having such a great night in terms of luck. Would witness of such an event really be deemed ′luck', though?

Blue offered a final cry as she felt what had built inside of her falter with a shake of her knees and a distant tremble of her body — and though the world spun as he felt the orgasm torn from himself and his body felt as though it were on fire, Vincent failed to make a sound. Instead, his fingers tightened on the girls hip as he forcibly tugged her groin against his own and his mouth slipped to her neck where his teeth quickly followed; from there, she felt her own world spin as he twisted the skin of her neck between his teeth and coaxed the glory of his own climax between her hips and deep inside of her with a warmth. She felt content. More content than she had since the evening before, when his cum filled her much the same. Only this time, her cunt throbbed in both pain and delight — and she frankly felt as though she were on the very cusp of passing out. She felt tender. She felt sensitive. She felt vulnerable. She felt liberated.

It was in that moment that Blue shifted a hand to cup the back of the man's neck just as she gently rocked her hips against his own with an absent sense of urgency and a semi-present sense of comfort... it offered comfort. It offered a soothing reprieve from the dull throb of a moments before when she had been at her most sensitive. Just as she did, the man smoothed her hair away from her face with steady hands — from there, it took barely a shift for him to grip the sides of her face with a passion neither could refuse and a kiss she'd never have the desire to turn from.

As their lips parted and his nose fell to rest against her own, Blue was left with no mouth-to-mouth contact other than their breaths as they heaved to catch such... Somehow, it was nearly just as good as a kiss. Perhaps it was merely because she was too out of breath to kiss him any further, perhaps it was because the man simply sitting inside of her was quite enough. Perhaps it was only due to the fact that the broad smile he gave into was such a rare sight indeed that she'd give anything for it. Whatever it was, his eyes were bright and his face lit up to the grin; never in her life had she been so taken by a mere expression.

"I've needed to fuck you all day," though he murmured the words with only a rough and blunt tone, his eyes were delicate and his touch was remarkably gentle as he continued to tidy the girl's hair more for a purpose of affection than a purpose of vanity.

"I do hope I was worth the wait," Blue made an effort to mimic the low and soft tone of Vincent which spoke between kisses. Though she made an effort to refrain from initiating a kiss, just as he had after he took his silence, it would seem she failed quite miserably; let it be by the brush of her fingertips as she traced his lower lip or by the heat of her mouth as she pressed her's to his and effectively pushed the back of his skull to the headrest behind them. In the very moment, Vincent found himself wondering what it would be like to sleep in a car. Perhaps if he had chosen a vehicle of more accommodating size, he'd extend an invitation. 'Oh, but why would we do such a thing?' Blue would ask, though Vincent would, of course, know that she was not opposed to the idea at all. Vincent would shamelessly admit that the sole reason was so he had an excuse to be borderline uncomfortably close to her all night long and in a distance to her house which permitted her to slip inside before the housekeeper came to wake her up. Perhaps he ought to just propose a sleepover in her own bed — such would seem to be the most sensible idea.

Though even then, he couldn't help but picture a scene where Blue woke up in the morning; brows wild, eyes wide and swollen, lips tumescent, skin glowing in the golden curls of an early-rising sun. In the very scene, her loosened hair would brush his face and her nightdress would slip up and over her hips as she rolled between the shadows of the duvet and the man above her. She'd look just as she did as she prepared for bed the night of her birthday party; the night he had watched as she fastened her hair in a twisting bun and tugged the camisole on with no underclothes beneath.

In the first breaths of day, he wouldn't pause to linger or ease into the girl. He wouldn't trace her with excited hands as he had the night before. He wouldn't kiss and explore. He wouldn't tease. He wouldn't hesitate. He'd curl his hips into hers with little warning further than a soft and low grunt, and she'd gasp and buckle into his embrace... But the housekeeper would walk in, and they'd be forced to part.

"Is it too soon to invite you to my place?" Vincent had the look to him which paired with dazed eyes and slightly slowed lips; the look and feel of being torn from thought by another thought alone. As strange as it would be to see a man of such notoriety in terms of emotion (or lack, thereof), Vincent appeared to be shaken of such a trace by the time Blue's own lips paused and broke from his — and though he cursed the sudden absence of her kiss, her bright eyes were comfort enough. Her warm hands as they scooped behind his ears and up through his hair. Her knees as they squeezed at his sides lightly...

Her voice and affections as they curled in the warmth of their exhales... "I'd say if we've screwed in a car and on a balcony, we're far enough into the relationship,"

"Oh, so we're in a relationship now?" A brow of Vincent's quirked slowly and ever-so-gently as only half-silent words breached momentary silence. It was the silence of a small smile creeping where her lips had left an absence. The silence of Blue's careless words settling with Vincent as though they were hard to swallow. As though they were undesirable. But they weren't — they were the best thing he had heard all week (aside from perhaps "fuck me" or "I don't want to get my heart broken"). "And what terms are associated with this... relationship?"

And as though Blue had been taken off guard by her own forwardness, she gave in to a deep blush. She was (taken by her own forwardness), she felt a great heat in her cheeks with a whispering of 'I can't believe I just said that' and 'I haven't been this embarrassed since third grade'... and yet she couldn't help but draw her lower lip between her teeth as she spoke. Not in a subconscious effort, but an effort of seducing the man into disregarding the potentially humiliating statement. If only she knew exactly how excited he felt to hear from possibly the most beautiful girl in the world that all he felt in their three encounters — the connection, the chemistry, the passion — constituted for a relationship. "I'm not sure, what did you have in mind?"

Where Blue's hands twisted in the now untucked hem of the man's dress shirt, Vincent's own hands settled against the bows of her neck to her shoulders beneath the modesty of her tangled and wild hair. He found that he would never be able to get over how well exactly Blue managed to pull off 'freshly fucked'. "Ideally, you'd be my girlfriend — other than that, I'd say being able to fuck you wherever and whenever I please has quite a nice ring to it..." and with little further than a pause, Vincent found himself leaning into Blue's lips just as he had countless times before and taking the breath which threatened her silence between a kiss. Though there was something profane and indecent in the way his mouth pried the girl's open and his tongue reached forward to accept the ebbs of her rough breath, there was a strange passion in what would otherwise be little more than reproductive. There was affection. There was something almost as modest as simply holding the girl's hand, let it be hidden deeply by the sexually suggestive sounds of their lips twisting and parting or Blue's half-masked moans as she rocked her hips against his and became increasingly aware of the fact that he was still inside of her.

"I'm yours to use," Though her murmur was almost lost beneath the volumes of them and their movements, Vincent's heart quickened and his hands slipped from her neck and instead to the sides of her face. As their eyes met, he found that he would have the courage to admit to Blue that it did, in fact, take great internal labour for him to pull his lips from her's. And yet all he could muster was a gentle redirection of the conversation.

"So, I've got a question,"

"Ask away — but do make it quick because I'm actually quite busy," Blue found her eyes flickering between the man's and his lips quite suggestively as she sat, lifting a hand to sit on the rear of his neck. It was there where her grip shifted and readjusted almost nervously and her spare hand swept across his lower lip with delicate fingertips. She was a rather intriguing thing, Vincent had found quite quickly.

"Would you like to spend the night with me at my house?"

"I couldn't think of anything I'd like more," And with that, Blue slipped the hand which rested at the base of his neck through his hair instead — and with the very grip, she drew his lips to her own where she pressed him with a kiss even fuller than before.

And though Blue wasn't humping the man just as she had been only minutes before, she felt even closer to him as she felt the hands she had become rather familiar with slide beneath the hem of her shirt and smooth over her back soothingly than she had before. What she felt she was being soothed over, she had no idea. Perhaps the hands were simply preparing her for when Vincent would draw away again, just as he did — and though she felt an absence where his lips were and a certain coolness rushing over her mouth where she was now lacking his breath, she felt the very warmth in his hands as they clutched her chest firmly against his own... She felt secure. She felt concealed. She felt hidden from the world and everyone at that moment who she wished not to be seen by — and perhaps by his embrace, she truly was.

"We should get going soon," The words came in a reluctant string which coaxed a small, agreeing smile from Blue. And just like that, the girl climbed back over to the driver's seat, straightened her clothes, and pressed an absent few fingertips to her lips. With the same reluctant sense, the man did much the same.

Blue's eyes found Vincent's only after a long pause of her gathering thought — she wanted to ask if she truly was his girlfriend. She wanted to ask whether or not it was all banter and banter alone. She wanted to ask so many things, all of which were sure to break the intimacy and stability which they had managed to assemble in the gentle span of twenty minutes... and yet Vincent's eyes seemed to be fixed elsewhere.

Truthfully, her heart halted in her chest as she determined where exactly the man's eyes were. They were trained in the general direction of the house — had she been caught?

And yet as she turned and followed his gaze, she found the sight of something she was sure could be even potentially worse; Richard. Richard rushing from the driveway and into the open street. Richard in full view of their vehicle and the two questionable passengers. Richard and the imminent threat of certain doom. Blue swore with an aggressive curse just as she sunk in her seat. She found that she couldn't match the frown that Vincent had adopted, she couldn't feel confusion or a distaste to the man who she seemed to despise more than Marian herself some days... all she could do was murmur a quiet "If he sees me, I'm dead," and even as she watched him climb into a car the pair had a generous view of, she couldn't accept even a slight sense of ease.

For no reason, as Blue watched Richard accept an envelope from a hand which ought to have belonged to the driver of the car, she held her breath as though she were about to be caught snooping. It was as though she was the one accepting a sketchy envelope from an unknown man. As though she was sneaking away from a dinner for illegal tradings. As though she was glancing around with paranoia. Even in the face of a situation which stressed Blue beyond logic, Vincent cracked a small smile. "Looks like someone's paying him... I always got the feeling he was a prostitute,"

After a painfully long moment, Blue lifted a finger to the window where she seemed to point as subtly as she could to the pair — and as Vincent shifted a hand to her thigh and offered her a small glance, she felt a slight sense of ease take her. Had he noticed she was growing upset? "But look, he's getting out his cheque book — why would he trade money for money?" And with a mumbled, silent word of agreement on Vincent's half, Blue found herself sinking even further into her seat. Boy, did Richard have a skill for ruining a good fuck. "I think we're watching a drug deal,"

The response took a moment longer than it should have.

"I don't know what this is, but it isn't a drug deal."