No Romance Required (8 page)

“Also,” he added, “I work out. Something you seemed to appreciate on the balcony.”

Only Cory could talk about his own physique and only amuse her rather than make her
think he was a conceited ass. Okay, so he
was
a conceited ass, but she liked him that way.

A lot.

“I appreciated it at the yoga studio too,” she reminded him.

He stared straight ahead and gripped the wheel with more force. Soon his knuckles
would crack. “Other times I chat online,” he said, evidently deciding he’d rather
discuss his free-time exploits with her over ones of a sexual nature, including those
she’d been party to. No matter. She’d work with whatever material he gave her.

“Oooh, porn?”

“Right.” He sniffed at her. “Astronomy porn.”

“Really?” She made her voice smoky. “Now you have my attention. Do tell.”

“Nothing to tell. There’s a local astronomy group, Celestia, that convenes online.
They have a chat room.” He shrugged. “It’s better than watching bad movies on TV.”

“You know, some people do
other
things when they can’t sleep at night,” she teased, elbowing him. “You could always
give me a call.”

Just like that, he lapsed into silence again.

Sighing, she laced her fingers together, hating the huge gulf that had opened up between
them. Even when they’d spent years fighting over petty shit, it had felt natural to
gripe at him. This did not. He’d offered her a couple moments of normalcy followed
by an arctic blast meant to stonewall her until she gave up trying. As if.

So she decided to blast right through the wall.

“Do you throw yourself at women in gyms often or was I just lucky?”

He didn’t spare her a glance. “You got lucky.”

“That part I knew. I was there, remember? I just meant it seemed so untamed for someone
as controlled as you. Did you up your intake of Metamucil or something?”

His quick grin shocked the hell out of her. “I know what you’re doing.”

Do you? Because I sure don’t.
“What’s that?”

“You’re trying to get me to forget what we’re about to do.” He reached over to grip
her hand. “I appreciate it.”

“Actually, no, I was trying to work my way around to apologizing for missing our meeting
Friday, but this works, too.” She swallowed thickly, fixated on the sight of his big
hand holding hers. If holding hands made butterflies whirl in her belly, what it would
be like to have his arms around her? “I sort of lied about having a headache. I just
wasn’t ready to see you, in case things were weird. I know that’s totally unprofessional
of me, and it won’t happen again. I just thought I should be honest. Since we’re kind
of friends and all.” She risked a look at him. He stared straight ahead. “Aren’t we?”

“Yes,” he said gruffly. He didn’t seem terribly enthused about the idea, but his agreeing
at all was progress. “Which is exactly why I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“We have something?” She hated how unsure she sounded.

“Don’t we?”

“We work together. And we have great sex together.” She rubbed her thumb over his
knuckles and marveled that he didn’t tug his hand away. “Something I think we could
perfect if given the chance.”

“With my schedule right now, I can’t—”

“I know,” she said quietly.

God, did she ever know. Already those old fears about ending up like her brokenhearted
dad after her mom left home were trying to poke their way through. So much for thinking
she’d dealt with all her abandonment issues. And she’d thought getting into a sexual
relationship with a workaholic was a good idea, why?

Oh yeah, right. She
hadn’t
thought. She’d just gone for it. Now she had to deal.

“Then you understand why I have to keep this platonic. It’s less messy.”

Messy was one way of putting it. “I understand lots of things. I’m your friend, remember?
You just said so and you can’t take it back.”

His small smile made her smile back. “I won’t.”

“You’re the one who said we had to work hard to be convincing with your family.” Even
she could hear the overbrightness of her voice. She couldn’t let him say no, not when
she’d finally pried open a minute fissure in his façade. “If we really can’t keep
our hands off each other, that should go a long way to making it seem realistic, right?”

She wasn’t lying. She could totally have sex with him and not expect more. Since she
hadn’t expected even that, she wasn’t about to borrow trouble.

She
never
did that. Drama llama? Absolutely not.

“Let’s just see how things go tonight, okay? Then we’ll proceed from there.”

She didn’t fight to hold on when he pulled back his hand. With the weather, he needed
both for the wheel.

The next half hour passed in a blur of white-knuckled traveling, and once they arrived,
introductions and chitchat. She knew all of his immediate family but she’d never met
the entire assortment of family friends who were present.

“Trial by fire,” he said in her ear, guiding her from one person to the next.

Happily, everyone seemed pretty nice and no one appeared to have a vested interest
in dubbing her a stinking liar right out of the gate.

Vicky soon found herself stuffing her face with crudités from the fancy setup on the
sideboard in Cory’s parents’ dining room while watching her fake boyfriend out the
window as he fed carrots to the horse in the pasture.

Though the rest of his family and friends congregated in the large kitchen, Cory stood
in his dark jacket, gray sweater, and black pants, legs spread, unaware he was being
observed. He looked cold. And so lonely that her heart ached.

“So, you and Cory, huh?” She glanced over at Dillon, who was filling his plate up
with finger foods. “When did that happen?”

“Tuesday at six o’clock,” she said without thinking, her gaze still on Cory.

“What?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” She smiled cheerily. “I’m easily distracted today.”

Dillon popped a peanut butter-filled stick of celery into his mouth. “Staring after
him already? That can’t be good.”

She forced a laugh. “You know how it is when you’re enjoying that first flush of infatuation.”

“You mean the go-all-night period? Yeah, I have some experience.” He grinned and licked
peanut butter off his thumb. “With Cory that’d probably last about ten minutes in
between appointments.”

“He’s an amazing lover. Just so you know.”

Dillon lifted his brows. “A little TMI, but glad to hear it for your sake. He blindsided
us with you. Totally.”

Shit, Dillon was already staring at her with suspicion. She’d known him too frigging
long. “I’ve been blindsided too,” she muttered, chomping on a cracker harder than
she’d meant to.

“How did it happen? Just too many hours sequestered together working on the magazine?”

How
did
it happen? She’d traced the roots of her lust for him back to her first ninth-grade
dance, but what was their “official” history? They’d have to coordinate stories. “Do
you remember when I’d come over with my Girl Scout troop? You know, the field trips
to see the horses and learn about how a small farm operated.”

“Uh, yeah.” Cue the first strange look of many, she was sure.

“He used to watch us come through, giggling as we always did.” She’d stayed with the
Scouts right through high school, despite it falling out of favor with her friends.
Not only had she been two years younger than the others in her grade thanks to skipping
a couple of grades in elementary school, she’d needed the stability after her home
situation had gone to hell. “Standing off to the side, just glaring. As if we were
disrupting his ordered existence.” Sighing, she crumbled her cracker on her plate.
“He always fascinated me.” Truth, all pathetic truth.

“Sure he wasn’t staring at you? He used to do that a lot.”

Her head whipped toward Dillon. “He did not.”

“You should ask him. Since you’re so close now, he’d tell you, wouldn’t he?” He clapped
her on the shoulder. “So happy for you crazy kids.”

She frowned at his back as he strolled away, whistling. Yeah, he was humoring her,
that much was obvious. He clearly didn’t think they were lovers. Dammit.

The first person she had to convince and she’d botched it. She’d have to do something
to prove they were positively consumed with each other.

But what?

Chapter Seven

Cory shifted away from the shapely hip that seemed to be inching closer with every
passing moment. Victoria hadn’t been dissuaded by his speech when he’d picked her
up. Fine, half speech, since the moment she’d touched him he forgot how to form words.
He’d been dismissive, almost rude, and except for a quick flash of hurt in her baby
browns, she’d hardly stepped off-stride.

But it was early innings yet, and he wasn’t giving up. His parents wanted him committed
to someone, so he’d put on a good show for them.

Assuming he managed not to be committed himself before they left.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Raymond Santangelo announced, defying convention by toasting
at the end of the meal rather than the beginning. Leave it to his family to be different.

Raymond waited while everyone picked up their goblets of wine, with the exception
of Alexa’s sister-in-law Nellie, who had a belly roughly the size of a hot air balloon
accentuated by her fluffy sweater. She and Alexa’s brother, Jake, had been invited
to dinner as well, along with several of the neighbors from up the road, and various
other stragglers he couldn’t identify.

One thing he could identify was the tension between Dillon and Victoria, which he
assumed probably had to do with his fake relationship with her. Was Dill getting suspicious
already? He was doing his best to ignore the palpable sense of unease between them,
mostly coming from Victoria’s side. Wading into drama usually led to more of the same.
He’d pass when it came to both that and the creamed corn.

“Hope you’re all feeling fine this lovely fall eve,” Raymond boomed, eliciting cheers.

Everyone fit easily at his mom’s ocean-sized dining room table, and miraculously she
even had china and silverware for every person. Now they all stared at Raymond, who
held court at the head of the table and was—oh, goody goody—smiling at Cory and Victoria.

She’d moved one of her wandering hands to his thigh. Hands, he noted, that were currently
tipped in long, glossy red nails. His cock twitched in protest. There were limits
to a man’s sanity, and Victoria’s long red nails scraped right up against the boundaries
of his.

“I’d like to thank everyone for coming out to help commemorate one of our last dinners
in our family homestead. Our wish was that one of our boys would move in and raise
their own family here, but they have their own lives and have chosen to remain in
their own homes, as is their prerogative.”

Cory gulped wine and stared at his stepfather. Looking anywhere else was dangerous.
Bad enough Victoria’s nails were now skimming closer to his semi-erection. Silently
taunting.

Throughout the dinner and conversation that ensued, she’d devoured him with her eyes.
He might’ve been flattered, had he not grown more certain by the hour that their impetuous
sexual relationship would end badly.

She would get bored with him. He couldn’t keep up with her, not with his work schedule.
He couldn’t spend his nights singing with the glee club or organizing clothing drives
for the church. And at his age and maturity, he didn’t have time to have wild, crazy
sex in inappropriate places, the yoga studio aside. Though he could think of plenty
of wild, crazy things he wanted to do to her in a bed, too.

Some of them involved bondage. Others involved sensation play and all manner of erotic
games he just knew she would enjoy, once she relaxed a little.

But inevitably, things would go south. They always did. He hadn’t dated for a while,
but back when he’d made more time for a social life, he’d never been good at knowing
how to slip away gracefully when his time got too crunched. Casual relationships didn’t
always mean the same thing to both parties. And he would have to endure yet another
messy breakup, when they hadn’t even exactly started dating in the first place.

Cory’s brain clicked back into the conversation as his stepfather gestured to his
brother and the beaming brunette at his side. “Dillon and Alexa have some good news
to share, which we’re just overjoyed about. Son?”

“I asked Alexa to move in with me. She said yes.”

“You’ve only been dating a few weeks. Don’t you think that’s a little sudden?” Cory
asked, peering into his wine.

No one paid him any mind. As usual.

As excited laughter and conversation broke out around the table, Vicky nudged his
arm. “Aww. Look at their smiles. How sweet.”

“Adorable.” He was happy for them, he truly was. Seeing Alexa settle against Dillon’s
side and glance up at him with love practically winging from her eyes was…nice. He
wanted his brother happy, and obviously Alexa made him that way. But all this coupling
up, fake and otherwise, was making him positively itchy.

You started this, remember?

Technically his parents had, but the faking thing—all him. All stupidity all the time,
that was the channel he’d turned to two weeks ago. Now the dial seemed to be stuck
and he couldn’t extricate himself from the mess.

“I bet you all were worried she was preggers,” Nellie said with a giggle, toasting
the table with her glass of what looked to be chocolate milk.

Alexa rolled her eyes and patted Nellie’s massive belly. She looked ready to explode.
“That’s all you, darling.”

“It’ll happen soon enough. For you two, too, I bet.” Nellie grinned and waved across
the table at him and Vicky. “Once you’re on the fast track, next thing you know you
have a whole family.”

Victoria smiled blithely as if the idea wasn’t the least bit off-putting. She and
Nellie had gotten buddy-buddy before dinner and had spent more than a few minutes
oohing and aahing over babies. He’d thought Victoria was just being polite, but maybe
not. Maybe she really was—he shuddered—domestic.

“Thank you for that segue, Nellie,” Raymond continued. “Today has also allowed us
all the chance to celebrate with our family’s newest couple, Cory and Vicky. Though
Cory and Vicky’s relationship seems sudden, we all know love has no timetable. Cory,
do you have anything you’d like to say?”

Cory gulped the last of his wine. “No.”

“I will.” Victoria drew her hand away from him and bounced to her feet before he could
meet her gaze. Instead he stared at her side. More specifically, her breasts, outlined
in snug, stretchy cotton.

Twitch
.

“I just wanted to say how happy I am to have gotten to know some of you better today.
Others I just met, but I look forward to learning more about each and every one of
you. Thanks to my snookums, I’ve gained not only a mate but a whole new family.”

The word
mate
reminded him a bit too much of the mammals at the zoo, but no one seemed to think
anything of it. She held the table enthralled as she spoke with her hands, smiling
and gesturing as if she were on stage and loving every minute.

God, she was beautiful. Golden hair glowing, cheeks pink with enthusiasm. No wonder
his family—and assorted hangers-on—couldn’t get enough.

“So tell us, dear. How did it happen?”

Victoria bit her lip at his mom’s question. Cory willed her to sit down, to play it
off. But of course Victoria never backed down from a challenge, even an ill-advised
one.

“Oh, it was working on the magazine. You know, all those long hours.”

“So it’s a recent thing then?”

“Oh, very recent. I can’t say I’d even noticed him before a few weeks ago.” She let
out a breezy laugh that turned into a wheeze when Cory grabbed a handful of her ass.
Better to have his stepfather raise an eyebrow at the PDA than to have Victoria embellish
her lie past the point of believability.

“She doesn’t like to admit how she’s pined for me for years,” he said tightly.

Victoria cast him a glance that bordered on withering. “Honeybun, are you telling
tales out of school again?”

“Just pointing out the obvious, sugarteat.”

Her pupils flared and she dropped down in her chair. For a moment, no one spoke through
the veil of tension that now hovered over the table.

And
this
was why it was better to keep quiet than to arouse needless suspicion. Not that she’d
ever listen to him. Or even notice him, apparently.

As conversation slowly resumed, Cory hooked an arm around her shoulders and tipped
up her chin with his other hand. He pressed his lips close to hers and murmured, “Glad
I’m so invisible to you.”

She winged up an eyebrow. “Sugar
teat
? Really?”

He shrugged. “Sorry. I’m not as good at the terms of endearment as you are. Next time
I’ll try figgypudding. Or prunyraisin.” When she giggled, he kept going. “Sourapple?
Smellysock?”

Without warning, jazz music erupted from unseen speakers. “To the living room!” his
mom called gaily, leading the charge out of the room.

“What’s going on?” Victoria asked, still whispering although everyone had left.

“Packing party.” This would be one of their last gatherings in this house so he didn’t
want to miss a minute. “Mom will probably reminisce and go through baby pictures to
embarrass us while she pretends to sort through things for the move. Everyone will
get a little drunk and insult each other. You know, the usual family deal.”

At the sudden dimming of her smile, he mentally clocked himself in the head.
Way to go, ace.
Her family hadn’t been “usual” for a while, and he fucking knew better.

“Sounds kind of private. Baby pictures and all,” she said, obviously less than thrilled.

Maybe she’d cheer up if she got distracted enough. He could hope. “Come on.” He grinned
and tugged on her hand, but she didn’t budge.

Strange. Even with her own strained family dynamic, he’d figured Victoria would be
all about something fun like this. They wouldn’t have to talk or act much and could
just relax for the most part. Yet she was frowning so hard he was afraid her face
would freeze that way. What the hell?

“I have an idea.” Her eyes lit with mischief.

“But they’ll be expecting us to hel—” he said halfheartedly as she jerked to her feet
and pulled him from the room.

He followed her down the hall and waited as she tested various doors. Loud whoops
sounded out from the packing party, but she paid them no mind. “The living room’s
the other way.”

“I know.” She stopped at the small half-bathroom off the kitchen and opened the door
triumphantly. “Perfect.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll wait.”

“Wait for what?” She dragged him into the dark and shut them inside. “Finally,” she
said, grasping his belt.

Oh holy mother of—thank you God.

“Uh, Vic, we shouldn’t do this.” How had she gotten her hand in his boxer briefs so
fast? She encircled his stiffening flesh and he grunted. “My parents are nearby. And
the lock’s broken on this—fuck, I’ll hold it. What are you doing to me?”

“I’m about to make you come.” She nipped a seductive path along the underside of his
jaw. “The chance of getting caught makes sex so much hotter.”

Did it? Considering the way it felt to have her kissing her way down his chest via
the open vee of his sweater, he was willing to give new things a try.

She didn’t drop to her knees as he’d expected. Instead she urged him toward the sink
and wrapped herself around him from behind. As her soft, capable hands slid up and
down his length, he braced his palms on cool porcelain and searched for the remaining
vestiges of his self-control.

Doing this sort of thing during a family dinner was not appropriate. His elderly neighbor
Elba had a touchy bladder and she favored this bathroom. What if she tried to come
in while Victoria was cupping his balls, feathering them with the delicate pads of
her fingers? Or while she was slicking her other hand up and down hard enough to make
him exclaim things more suited to the late-night cable channels than a good old-fashioned
family celebration?

“Elba better close her damn eyes,” he muttered.

Leaning up, Victoria nibbled the back of his neck in between her pulls on his dick.
She didn’t speed up her movements at his harsh pants of breath. No, she was much more
ruthless. Her wicked fingers alternated from slow to fast and back to slow again as
she transferred her oral attentions to his ear.

“You know what I always wanted to do?” she breathed. “Role play.”

His cock jerked. Jesus, did she have to stomp on all of his erotic buttons at once?
“Like…you’re a maiden and I’m a pirate?” He’d even brought his own sword.

“Maybe
I’d
like to be the pirate.” She licked his thundering pulse. “But yeah, just like that.
We’re alone in the dark and you can’t see me, so I can be anyone you want. Your wildest
fantasy come to life.” She pressed her full breasts against his back and her tight
nipples dug into his flesh.

He released a ragged groan. “Right now you can be anyone you want. Just don’t stop
touching me.”

“Uh-uh. Doesn’t work that way. You have to tell me who I am.”

He gripped the sides of the sink and lurched forward at her increased strokes. If
she kept this up for long, he wouldn’t have to worry about controlling himself. He’d
let go all over this pretty pink sink, with her deliciously naughty suggestions filling
his head and her breath hot against his cheek. She was panting right along with him,
arching into his hip. Grinding with enough force to drag harsh gasps from her throat.

God, he ached to slide her dress up her thighs to find out if she was hot and wet
for him. If she was as close as he was to forgetting that anything outside this room
existed.

She made it so easy to let go. To just give in to everything that felt good and to
hell with the consequences. Victoria was freedom in a shiny red bow, and he wanted
it. Wanted
her
with an urgency that fired his blood to boiling.

“You know you’re thinking about someone.” She slipped her palm up the underside of
his cock to encircle the head. Pre-come smeared her hand and she used it to slicken
her strokes. Faster and faster she drove him, until he dropped his head and closed
his eyes against the flashes of light exploding in his vision. “Is she short and curvy,
tall and dark? Is she wearing feathers or leather or better yet, nothing at all?”