Somewhere in His Arms

Somewhere In His Arms

By: Katia
Nikolayevna

For my mother-- who needs a little romance in her life.

Chapter One

She stared at her naked body in the full- length mirror and smiled with satisfaction. Not an ounce of fat. She slid her hands down over the full high breasts
, squeezing slightly and lingered over the swollen nipples and gasped. It had been too damn long. She hadn’t had a decent fuck since Julio quit. Since then she’d been on the prowl for a suitable replacement. But most of her servants weren’t up to her standards of tall, dark, and big; she was so horny she was about to explode.

    
Vivian held her breath as she slid her hands over the smooth taut belly and down to her damp pussy. She was hot and wet and not a cock in sight. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. Hurrying over to her dresser, she fumbled for her vibrator and fell on the bed. She flicked it on and slid it over her throbbing nipples. Arching her back in delight, she teased them to rock hard peaks and then down her belly. Moaning, she drew up her knees and slid it down her pussy and let it linger over her throbbing clit.

    
She wanted to savor the moment, but she couldn’t wait and plunged it in hard.   Swallowing a scream she fucked herself hard and deep. Pulsing waves of pleasure consumed her lithe body and she fell back on the bed gasping.

    
Vivian glanced up at he ceiling and flung the vibrator aside angrily. While it had been a nice ride, her pussy still burned for a man’s cock filling her to the brim. Jumping up from the bed, she took a long hot bath and washed her long blonde hair.

    
Wrapping her model’s body in a cozy bathrobe she collapsed into her favorite lounge chair by the pool and sipped her iced Cappuccino. She leaned her head back dreaming of the upcoming shoot in St. Bart’s. Vivian was frolicking in the turquoise waters when a phone ringing in the distance interrupted her.

    
“I’m not here,” she called and went back to frolicking.

    
But then Betty poked her head through the door. “I’m sorry, Miss Vivian, but she says she’s your daughter.”

    
Vivian removed one cucumber slice from her splendid eye. “What did you say?”

    
“S-she says she’s your daughter,” Betty repeated fearfully. She wondered if her health plan would cover any broken bones. From the way her employer was looking at her, it was safe to assume she was about to incur many.

    
“Do I look old enough to have a daughter?” Vivian screeched in outrage. Daughter! She was only eight years older than that brat! Damn Walter for dropping dead and leaving her to raise that menace by herself! The girl had been nothing but a thorn in her side since she married the old fogey, and Vivian hated her with every ounce of her being. The girl had been needy, clingy, and Walter’s pride and joy. They might have been happy had Lucy gone and stayed with her aunt in Vermont. But nooo, he had to have his little girl live with them and expected her to play mother hen to the little bitch or lose the money. “What does she want? Tell her I’m busy.”

   
“She wants to talk to you ma’am. It’s something about a laptop. She said it was hers.”

    
“Son of a bitch!” Vivian swore as she sat up. “Hers! Nothing is hers! He left it all to me! Tell her if she wants it she can have it over my dead body.”

    
Vivian settled back into her chair. Feeling Betty’s presence, she removed the cucumber. “Well?” she shouted at the cowering woman. “What are you waiting around for? Go dust something!”

    
“
Yes, ma’am,” Betty replied fearfully and closed the door. She had braved this storm but wasn’t sure what to tell the poor girl.

    
Picking up the phone she said in her best maid’s voice, “Miss Vivian is busy and cannot be bothered by such trivial matters at this time.”

***

              Lucinda Havilland hung up the receiver with a sigh and returned to her station. As she entered patient information, she tried not to think of the woman who’d partially raised her. She was only ten when she walked in on her father and Vivian. Up until that moment, her mother had been her father’s only love. They’d been happy until her mother began to notice things, small things at first: late nights at the office; the extended business trips; the lipstick on the collars; and all the stuff you see on daytime talk shows. Lucy hadn’t known much about the birds and bees but when she walked in on her father pounding into the strange young woman, her education was begun in earnest.

     
It all happened in quick succession. The divorce, the wedding, her mother’s suicide, and through it all there had been Vivian. Tall, blonde, ruthless, she’d done everything she could to take away what Lucy loved the most in this world.  And she had enjoyed every moment.

    
When her father died suddenly of a heart attack a year into the marriage, Vivian was the one who refused to let her aunt take her to her farm in Vermont. Instead she had insisted on raising Lucy only to throw her out when she turned sixteen. And while her father had left most of his money to Vivian, her trust fund had been squandered on Vivian’s lust for designer clothes and lavish dinner parties. Giving up her dream of studying archaeology, she was forced to take out a loan for nursing school.

    
Lucy was still paying it off.

    
A sudden tap on her shoulder snapped her back to reality. Turning, she glanced up into the smiling green eyes of her fiancé, Dean Rhodes. A third-year resident in emergency medicine, he was the one shining light in a world of darkness.

    
“Hey, beautiful,” he said softly. “Why so glum?”

    
Lucy tried to smile, but a lump settled in her throat. “I called the house and she refuses to speak to me! He left me those things!”

    
Dean took her by the arm and steered her toward an empty exam room.

    
“I wish you wouldn’t let her upset you.”

    
“I’m
not
upset. I’m just tired of her!” Lucy reached for a tissue and dabbed at her nose. “Rudy says if she doesn’t fork it over, he’s going to get a warrant.”

    
Dean laughed softly and reached for her left hand. What’s this?”

    
“That’s your ring, silly.”

    
“Yes, I know. And do you know why I gave it to you?” he asked, kissing the small diamond.

    
“Because of my impeccable sense of style?” she quipped, and glanced down at her dull blue scrubs.

    
He kissed the tip of her adorable nose and pulled her closer. “Because you’re so sweet.” His mouth closed over hers and he pulled her against him. Lucy slid her arms about his neck and sighed as his lips slid against her cheek. His tongue caressed hers gently, and she gasped as his hand slid over her breast. He pulled her harder against him, and she felt him stiffen against her belly. A small tremor of fear passed through her. Dean was her first love
.
The only man she’d ever kissed.

    
And she was also a virgin.

    
When they'd met she had explained to him that she wanted to save herself for marriage. He seemed to respect her decision and left it at that. There were lots of hand holding and chaste kisses. But they’d never gone all the way. She wasn’t ready. When he proposed, she thought he would respect her decision to wait until they were married, but as the wedding date approached he seemed to be getting impatient, and increasingly passionate.

    
Lucy pulled away. “Dean, I---”

    
“I know, I know,” he sighed raggedly and ran a frustrated hand through his wavy brown hair.

    
“I’m sorry---” Lucy began but he waved her off.

    
“Dammit, Lucy we’re going to be
married
in three weeks anyway! What difference does it make?”

    
She looked at him as if he’d struck her. “It matters to me.”

    
Dean felt like kicking himself as she flinched at his words. He didn’t mean to sound so ruthless. But he was a man on a ledge. He hadn’t been with a woman since he met Lucy. Sweet and gentle, she wasn’t like the other girls who whetted his appetite. When she told him she was a virgin, he thought she was joking. She hadn’t even wanted to go out with him. But what started out as a conquest had evolved into something more. So he threw out his little black book and became a one-woman man. But a year without satisfying himself was beginning to take its toll.

    
He knew he was wrong to ask her to give it up before the wedding. It meant a lot to Lucy to wait until that special night and lashing out at her because she was strong enough to stand up for her convictions was unforgivable. He’d make it up to her. He went to her.

    
“I’m sorry.”

    
She wouldn’t look at him.

    
Dean raised that little chin he loved so well. “You can’t blame me for wanting to ravish you. I’m mad for you Lucy!” He began to nuzzle her neck.

    
Giggling, she hugged him. Once more the Dean she knew and loved, she glanced up at him. Sometimes she wondered why this gorgeous man wanted her. She wasn’t beautiful. If anything, and on a good day, she was pretty. But with straight black hair and brown eyes, she always thought herself way out of his league compared to his light brown hair and emerald eyes. “ I don’t think I should forgive you,” she teased.

    
He feigned a look of horror. “But you must! I’m madly in love with you. What can I do to make it up to you?”

     
Lucy laughed as he nuzzled her neck again. “Let me think. Oh! That tickles.”

    
He smiled down at her. “Look, I’m off at six. If it means so much to you, I’ll go and get the stuff.”

    
“Oh no! You don’t have to. Rudy will take care of it.”

    
Dean’s pager went off. He took it out. “Damn. Look, I’ll swing by on my way home and ask nicely.”

    
Lucy shook her head. She didn’t want him anywhere near her stepmother---not that she didn’t trust him--- but Vivian
was
Vivian. She opened her mouth to protest but he shook his head and dropped a kiss on her brow.

    
“What time are you off?” he asked as he opened the door. “Eleven.”

    
“See you then. Love you,” he told her and hurried off.

    
“Love you too,” she whispered softly, watching his tall form disappear down the hall.