Like a Fox (17 page)

As Vault lets go of the folder, Link comes in. He leans down and whispers into Vault’s ear as he passes something off into his hand.

Link leaves, but not before giving Vic a murderous glare that in return Vic bows his head and delivers a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

Link grumbles something I can’t understand; only a few swear words register.

Vault holds out what it was Link left behind: a small tube, no bigger than my pinkie, filled with an off-white, almost almond-colored powder. “This won’t get through security. You sure you don’t want my jet?”

Vic takes it, shaking his head, “I know what to do.”

I’m hopeful as I ask, “Is that the stuff?”

Vic and Vault answer together, “Yes.”

I can’t help but beam. I don’t know Vic’s plan, but the fact that one part of it has been accomplished brings me hope, even if it’s minuscule. I’ll take what ever I can hold on to right now.

“Your girlfriend’s good,” Vault praises and I almost let his compliment affect me, then I remember he’s why I’m here in the first place.

“I know,” Vic nonchalantly agrees, holding the small tube up to the light.

“She need a job?”

“I have one,” I affirm.

Vic stashes the tube in his pocket and states, “She has one.”

Vault tries to conceal a smirk, “Well, if she–”

“I won’t,” I say at the same time Vic responds with a “She won’t.”

I can’t help but smile over at him. He winks at me in return. For a moment I allow fairies to dance in my veins and marvel in how perfect we are together. Too bad perfection isn’t real.

“You’ll hear from me when it’s over,” Vic says in farewell.

On the way to the airport I decide to dig for more information, “How do you know Vault?”

Vic openly replies, “Through my sister.”

I lift my brows, hoping he’ll take the hint and further expand on the subject.

Vic sighs, “They had a brief affair some odd years ago. Due to the nature of her profession, they remained close.”

“What’s her profession?”

“That’s not something I can share with you.”

I’m not surprised. I change back to the subject of Vault, “And you like this Vault guy enough to work for him?”

“Yes. He’s a ruthless business man, but he’s trustworthy; a rare trait in one’s character.”

“Is it
necessary
to work for him?”

“I want a life with you Freya, and in order for that to happen I need stability. Before you, I was constantly traveling and occasionally working for men that would give me false information, putting my life in danger. Working for Ben insures that my time is considerably cleared up and that you are kept safe.”

“What about what I want? I’m not even sure I can
be
in a relationship with you anymore, not after this strong of a deceit.”

“I never deceived you,” Vic interjects with his stern, demanding voice. “Like I’ve said: my work is private. I don’t mix work with pleasure; it never ends well. But every rule has its exceptions.”

“And look how well that turned out,” I grumble under my breath, turning my head to watch San Francisco pass me by.

“You’ll get past this.”

I look back over at him, “How can you be so confident?”

Vic’s brown eyes soften, letting me into his soul, giving me goosebumps without him even touching me. “I’ve seen and experienced a lot in my life. What we have rarely exists. You don’t let something like this go.”

Why does he have to say things like that to me? I just want to be mad at him, but he’s making it really hard. I need some space, time to clear my head, and sort through the mixed emotions running around.

I don’t speak again until I’m at the ticket booth of the airport, “I need the soonest available plane to New York City.”

“Two,” Vic steps next to me, holding out his identification and credit card, and placing them on the counter. “Business Class.”

“I can’t afford Business Class,” I sneer under my breath, “and we’re not sitting together.”

He pushes the credit card closer to the attendant, ignoring my request. I start to protest but snap my lips shut instead. He’s been tailing my father and keeping it a secret from me. He can pay for my fucking ticket.

“Can you make them separate?” I ask as the attendant begins typing away at her computer.

“No.” Vic is firm in his tone, causing her to glance up. He turns his head to me, lowering his voice, “Either way, I will find a way to sit next to you.”

I give the woman my attention. “Separate,” I confirm. Vic can work for it.

Unfortunately, she informs us that the next flight isn’t for another six hours; however, we are in luck because there happens to be three seats left, two of which are Business Class.

“We can stay at Cole’s?” Vic suggests after we step aside with our tickets.

I shake my head, “No, I want nothing to do with that man.”

Vic slides the ticket into the inside pocket of his jacket, “He’s not as bad as you think.”

“I don’t care. How would you feel in my shoes?”

“I’ve
been
in your shoes, and I was happy to see my father burn.”

Wow, that is an incredibly depressing statement and I have no rebuttal.

Vic tries another route, “We’ll go to a hotel.” 

No way, I know what will happen if we’re left alone together. “We’ll stay here, get a book to read while we wait.”

“You need to rest.”

“What I
need
is for this whole thing to be over and for my father to be safe.”

“Fair enough.” Vic places a firm hand on my lower back, “Let’s go get you that book.”

Chapter 21

Vic squats in the middle of the plane’s narrow isle, drawing up his grey slacks at the thigh as he bends. He speaks low and only for the man sitting next to me to hear, extending a hand toward the man’s as he talks. The man nods, pulling back his hand as they both stand and tucks it briefly into his pocket, depositing what ever Vic had handed to him there.

Vic slides into the seat, not acknowledging me as he buckles in and the other man takes Vic’s seat two rows back.

I roll my eyes, “You think you’re so clever.”

“No, but I do know money will buy you whatever you want.”

“Not everything.”

“I suppose.”

“You can’t buy me,” I have to point out.

The flight attendants explain safety precautions and emergency exits. When they are done, Vic finds a magazine to read, leafing through it, “I guess I should rephrase: money and
sex
can get you whatever you want.”

A make “pft” noise, finding that incredibly insulting.

“You doubt me?” He smirks to the magazine.

I give a curt nod, “One-hundred percent.”

He shrugs, still ruffling through the pages, not a care in the world.

For the next hour I continually have to readjust, unable to get comfortable, my body sensing Vic’s close to mine and wanting to feel skin against skin. I internally scold my body for being such a nymphomaniac, refusing to accept that it’s only Vic causing it to be this way.

An attendant offers us a beverage and I decline, even though a part of me wouldn’t mind some hard liquor to calm me down.

I fall into a restless sleep that doesn’t benefit me in the slightest, so I try to watch a movie but can’t focus. When the attendant brings our meal I can’t eat. The day so far and knowing what’s still to come is weighing too heavily on me. Adding food to that will only make me even more uncomfortable.

“Eat,” Vic demands, waving a fork at my plate.

“I can’t.” I honestly wish I could. Business Class food is nothing like what I’ve had in economy. It smells heavenly and like an actual meal your body can digest.

He frowns, “Try.”

I stare at the food for a full five minutes, hands poised over it with utensils. I know I need to eat, but it’s too much work at the moment.

“Here,” Vic moves his hands between mine, nudging them out of the way as he cuts my salmon into small, bite-sized pieces. He feeds them to me one by one, sending flutters to my stomach every time my lips touch his fork and he watches them take the meat. I successfully finish a third of my plate before refusing any more.

“Thank you,” he delivers the words so soft and genuine that the flutters turn into winged keys, sharp and pronounced as they move around.

After our plates are cleared I go to the restroom, more because I want to stretch my legs and I need breathing room from Vic’s enigmatic presence.

As I start to slide the door closed it’s met with resistance. Vic nudges through, locking it behind him.

Anybody who has been in an airplane restroom knows that it uncomfortably holds one person, so two is more than a tight fit. Combine that with all that is Vic, and his intensity has it feeling like I’m trapped in an oven.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, mortified for anybody to know we’re in here. I know what they’ll think because it’s exactly what I would believe is happening when two people share a bathroom.

Vic effortlessly twists us so we’re sandwiched together, his back to the wall, my butt digging into the sink, both of our legs dangerously close to the toilet. He lifts my hips while we are wordlessly staring at the other, only blinking when forced to. He hoists my legs up and slides off my pants with an effort that should be awkward, but it’s no match for the way we’ve started kissing, like we were teenagers sucking face. My hands go on either side of me for support, as I’m half over the edge of the tiny counter. My bent legs are moved enough so my feet can bare my weight on the wall behind Vic.

Our tongues continue to assault each other as I unzip him, stroking his cock as I draw it nearer. Vic tightly wraps his arms around me and I continue to support myself with my levered feet and a hand curled around the edge.

He plows into me and the force has us whimpering into each other’s mouths.

The harder he pummels into me the wilder and more out of control I feel. I bite his bottom lip, dragging it through my teeth, the metallic taste of blood hitting my tongue.

Vic growls, dislodging it and moving them down my jaw to my neck with enough suction it shoots sparks through my body. His face hides in the crevice, his nose and mouth plastered to the skin as he picks up his pace, his cock hitting me all the way to the depths, as far as it will go. My head falls back and smashes into the stainless steel mirror behind it. The pain works in tandem with the pleasure, heat spreading through my body as I near my release.

One of Vic’s arms loosens its bind, the other growing stronger to make up for its absence. The released hand wraps around my throat in a hold that is neither delicate nor harsh, it agrees with the manic pounding of his body into mine.

“Your neck, Freya,” he hums into the skin, his breath caressing it as his hand does the same, “is one of the sexiest things about you, and the first thing I couldn’t wait to taste.”

Vic comes to a complete stop, and I’m out of breath from almost reaching my peak or I’d yell at him not to. The hand around my neck slithers to the back, grasping the hair at the nape, forcing my attention back on him. His eyes, like rich decadent chocolate, bore into mine, “Who do you belong to?”

I don’t respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. His pelvis grinds into mine as he makes luscious circles, his grip in my hair tightens, “Say it?”

“You first,” I pant, my hips circling with his, needing any kind of movement they can get.

“You, Freya. I belong to you.” He thickens his accent, probably knowing how it arouses me. It works because I lose my senses to his voice and the way his words make me feel inside, so filled and ready to explode with the depths I love him. Any minute now it’s all going to shoot from my pores in a bright light that blinds everyone in its path. It gives me no choice but to answer with what I know he wants to hear. “Vicsuyan,” I breathe out, knowing how much he loves me to say his full name. “I could never again be with anyone else.” I mean it too; whatever comes next for us, nobody will compare to how he makes me feel inside. What we have is so tangible and raw I won’t even bother trying to find it somewhere else; it would be a waste of time. These past few weeks were filled with more passion and awakening of my soul than I ever hoped for in a lifetime.

Satisfied with my answer he rocks his hips, gaining back speed, and within seconds I’m coming. Vic’s mouth is wrapped around my own, muffling the cries. He stops once again while my breathing recovers, pulling out when he’s convinced that I’m done coming down from my orgasmic high.

His still hard cock is coated with me, but it lacks the extra thickness from our combined release.

“You didn’t come?” I ask as he helps me wiggle back into my pants. We knock heads a few times in the effort.

“No,” he responds as he fastens his erection back inside.

“Why?”

He pins me back into the small counter, “The next time I come inside you will be when I fully have you.”

“What was this then?” I remember our conversation at the beginning of the flight as I zip my own pants. I try to control the rage as I force the zipper up so hard I get some of the skin on my finger caught. I wince from the pain. Vic takes the hand, placing a gentle kiss on the red mark it left behind, causing my heart to thump against my chest, winged keys jabbing their way through my body, once again reminding me just how strongly he affects me.

“I needed to prove a point,” he says with his lips still glued to my skin.

I snatch it back. “What? That I’m so shallow it only takes your cock to buy me?” I stumble over the words as we hit turbulence and an attendant asks for everyone to gather in their seats and secure their seatbelts.

I peek through the door and quickly realize there will be no way to hide that Freya Brennan is now a member of the Mile High Club.

I hold my head high, like I have nothing to be ashamed of, refusing to look at the attendants or passengers, not wanting to be met with looks of disapproval or leering eyes.

“No,” Vic says from behind me, returning to our conversation. “That you need me just as much.”

“Sex doesn’t equivocate need,” I sneer over my shoulder. “Letting you into my body doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you or that I even want to forgive you.” My next words are lies, but I can’t stop them from coming out, “People will say anything for an orgasm; it doesn’t mean anything.
You
don’t mean anything.”

I’m ashamed of myself. I have never purposely lied in order to hurt someone before and I never want to do it again. My guilt folds in on me as I take my seat and finally have the chance to properly see Vic as he takes his. He’s not hiding his emotions or showing that he doesn’t have any; he looks like a man that has met defeat, who has been broken. He doesn’t look over at me even though I’m clearly staring at him. He rubs his hand over the stubble that is forming along his jaw, absorbed in the aisle way’s carpet.

“Hey,” I place a hand on his thigh, ready to apologize for my despicable behavior.

“Do you think I wanted this Freya?” Vic looks over at me, “I was quite content with my life. Then I find you, and none of it’s good enough anymore. It would be so much easier to walk away, but I can’t, and I never will. The life I was so satisfied with was no life at all. A life with you
is
.”

I swallow back my emotions, wishing I had taken the attendant up on her offer of the hard stuff. It’s time for things to get real. “Are you capable of love? The kind of love required to start a family and future with?”

“Freya,” he breathes, deepening his voice, sending tingles through my body. I’m beginning to think he enjoys saying my name just as much as I crave hearing it. “It saddens me that you don’t already know how in love with you I am.”

My heart stops. My blood halts. My breathing ceases.

It all comes back alive at the same time, working in unison to create an uproar of activity.

A crackle in the speakers announces that our flight is coming to an end and for us to prepare for descent. I take a moment to compose myself, and when the plane begins to lower I finally speak, “If you love me, you have to care for my family too. Their safety is just as important as my own.”

“I’m aware of that now.” Vic’s hand comes out, stroking the side of my face. “I don’t usually do apologies, as I’m not a man who does something without first calculating its risks and rewards. However, this time I was wrong and I’m truly sorry. You have my word that nothing like this will happen again, and although your life will always matter more to me than theirs, they will be protected.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing my cheek into his palm. “I forgive you, for whatever it’s worth.”

He answers just as quietly, “It is worth everything.”