Victoria’s Secret Wish(5)
Right. “Deets,”true and fictional. Good and ugly.
And if you get caught, we never met. This conversation never happened. TTYL with more instructions.
He pocketed his cell, then rubbed his hands together. In a few weeks, he’d have his Victoria back. Using Brett’s trampy ex-fiancee last year to try and break them up hadn’t worked. The blackmail had backfired, and the stupid little slut had gone slinking back to the hole she’d come from. But this time he was smarter, and using a smarter co-operative. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Victoria again, get her to work out like she used to, so she’d have that hard, boyish body again. She remembered what he could do for her. He knew she did.
And once he was back in her bed, then he’d claim his share of her empire, like he so deserved.
Fuck, yeah. Maybe he needed a private moment in the bathroom before that next flight...
Chapter 3
“That’s it, then?” Brett zipped a suitcase shut, while holding the top down with all his weight. “Sure you don’t need another six bags or so, love? After all, it is one bloody huge ocean liner.”
Vic rolled her eyes, phone to her ear. “He’s bitching about my three suitcases.” She nodded her head at the phone, then turned to him. “Carmyn says she’s bringing five.”
“Give Mark my deepest sympathies.” He tugged the great case off the bed and rolled it to the door. Thank Christ it had wheels. Vic was lucky she didn’t have to check the thing on a commercial airline, or they’d be paying out the nose for the extra weight. Mark should be grateful as well, for the chopper ride to the ship. Movie star wife or not, his bank would be broke if he had to pay for the mass of luggage glamorous Carmyn convinced him to cart around.
Vic’s voice carried from the other room. “No problem. As soon as Gil drops us off on the ship, I’ll send him up to LA to get you guys. No sense in you coming earlier than that anyway. We’ll be overseeing the crew meet-n-greet. And getting that reporter settled.”
He re-entered the bedroom, and she reached out to smooth his collar. “Okay. See you then!” She dropped her phone into her purse and licked her lower lip. “Now, let’s see. We’ve got ninety minutes ’til take off. What should we do with the time?”
His cock pulsed when she ran her hands inside his shirt and tweaked his nipples.
“Feeling a bit naughty, Vic?”
“Mm.” She stretched up for an openmouthed, toothpaste-fresh kiss.
His old Vic was back, spunky, horny, and no longer intent on pregnancy. “What’s that old saying? You be six, I’ll be nine?”
“I married a mind reader.”
He’d best not loose her hair this time; she’d play hell wrangling it back into submission before they left. Damnation.
They were nude on the bed in moments, he flat on his back with his cock like a mast, she atop him with her loveliness spread wide above his face. He inhaled, savoring every sight, every smell. She’d gone for a wax yesterday, and all that remained was a cursory frontal patch of red curls–which he’d insisted she keep. “It’s another Kodak moment, Vic. Hand me my phone, please?”
She handed it over, and while he attempted to take a great photo, she captured his cock with her mouth. Despite being pulled up, the ends of her hair tickled along both his thighs. Ah, that hair. Ah, that mouth. He managed one picture, then cast the phone aside and delved into her folds.
Fuck, she tasted fine. And what was she up to down there? She sucked like there was no tomorrow, deeper than ever, hot and so firmly. If she kept it up, she might make take all of him. Tonsils, throat, an almighty good job she was up to. Her fingers were everywhere, loving his nuts, gripping his shaft. Her nails rasped down and back, and though his mind told his legs to stay together, they spread. She wasn’t up to that again? He moaned against her and shoved his tongue inside her as far as he could. His breath caught when her finger found its target. So smooth, as if she did it every day, she slid inside. He’d told her he didn’t like–ah, but he fucking did. His mouth clamped her clit while other parts clamped her finger, and he came. A feral moan–was it his?–and then she came too, in tight, rolling, dripping spasms against his face. He heard her gulp once, twice, and then she laid her head down, warm fingers still clasping his cock.
He cleared his throat. “Now. If we could only get that on tape…”
“Not a chance, old chap.”
* * * *
Vic snoozed against him most of the flight to the ship, her head on his shoulder. He spent the time watching the American landscape below him–as he’d done plenty of times in the past few months. All the work would be worth it, though. To take Vic away from their tiny apartment on the mountain in Wyoming, sail her around the world to exotic locales, lounge with her in their posh-to-the-ridiculous executive suite onboard…definitely worth it. She’d balked at the luxurious accommodations he’d insisted on for their private suite atop the ship, but he’d won that round. Told her eventually they could rent it out for an insane price on any of the monthly cruises they didn’t attend.