Cecily and Vince Ch. 03

...The only reason this has taken so long is that I've invested more time into this one relationship than I ever have into any of mine. And if they are any typos, no there aren't, I'm just modifying Standard American English 👏🏾 Hope you all are doing well!

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"Cis."

"Hmm."

"Wake up, I wanna see something."

"You can see it later, we have all day," I reason. I'm not waking up for early morning dick.

He sits there for a while and then hovers over me to whisper "Suit yourself" before climbing out of the bed. I grumble a little before falling back asleep.

I wake up to the smell of toasted bread and the sound of something sizzling, so I decide to roll out from under the covers and steal some of whatever Vince has made. He's standing over the stove, vacantly studying the sausage links in the cast iron skillet.

"Gimme some."

I see his profile split into a grin. "Mm. Maybe."

I fold my arms across my chest and stroll up to him. "Maybe?"

"Maybe if you give me 'some', I'll be nice and give you some. Food." He slides the sausage onto a plate lined with paper towels before leaning up against the counter. "Whaddya say?"

"Well, I couldn't say exactly, not with you propositioning a starving woman like that."

Vince grabs my arm and pulls me between him and the counter, sliding the caftan I threw on down over one shoulder. "I could just ravish her, up against this wall with her feet dangling off the counter. Bend her over, make her watch the fat in the pan solidify while I slam into her from the back."

"Hmm..." I pretend to mull it over as he palms my behind and fills his hands with cloth and ass, inching the hem of the dress up over the curve of my behind.

"Anyway you want," he whispers, a slight smile on his face.

I cup his face in my hands and draw his lips to mine, happy for the moment to stoke the fire I see sizzling under the surface of that smile. His hands travel up the length of me, slipping up my torso and removing the dress from my arms, dropping it to the floor.

"Had the audacity to cover up before you came out here," he mutters, fingers mapping my back and running down along my thighs. "You decided yet?"

I swirl my hips over the item in his pants, obsessed with the warmth of it in the chill of the morning. "I trust you," I say, splaying my legs apart before him and winding my arms around his neck. "Fuck me however."

He grunts in agreement and drops his head to lathe his tongue in the dip of my collarbone. I watch him pull a condom out of his pocket, watch him fumble to rip it open before adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants to sit underneath the tool he's wrapping up.

His hands flash back to my body as soon as he's ready, one drawing my right leg up by the knee and the other finding a suitable spot at my waist.

"So you were just planning to ambush me as soon as I got up, huh?" I accuse, feeling the ache deep in the muscles of my legs as he lifts my thigh a bit higher.

"Always gotta be ready when I'm around you, Cis," he huffs, aiming himself at the dripping center of me, unseen.

I drop my head back to watch him maneuver himself in me, overtaken by the stretch and at the same time feeling power course through my limbs, watching him lose his mind in me.

"Fuck," he announces, as I tighten uncontrollably around him. A lot of things concerning Vince are uncontrollable.

I let him lean me back further, drop my arms to the counter behind me and feel the stretch across my chest as he begins to rock inside. A steady stream of low curses issue from his lips, now, his eyes the murky brown of brackish water and almost vacant of thought.

"So good, Vince. You're splitting me open," I approve, listening to the smack of our bodies slice through the morning's silence. He's grunting with each push into me, taking ragged breaths as he draws out and all the while increasing in speed. I feel the shock of him all over, and swoon once, twice, my standing leg shaking underneath me.

He pushes me up, back further and finally heaves me up to lay my upper body on the counter. I whimper at the shock of my naked back against the cold tile before I start whimpering instead at the shuddering force plowing against my sensitive walls, slipping a hand down to hover attentively over my clit in careful circles.

"C, I never wanna stop fucking you. Your body's so good, baby," he groans over me. "So fucking good to me. You're perfect."

"You never wanna stop?" I muse, my breathing labored as my back squeaks against the counter. My legs are locked around his waist, drawing him into me, and I croon as his hands migrate to my shoulders to bring me down harder on his dick. "Don't you wanna come in me? Feel me shaking around-"

My words clip off on a high note as I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly fluttering around him in the heightened drop of my climax taking me off guard. I can't hear for several moments, can only feel the wet pressure of him in me, his hands gripping my hips, his breath falling across my exposed body in exerted puffs of air.

When I come back from wherever it is he sent me, he's moving at hyper speed, almost with a helpless look on his face. And when sound comes back: "-you, Cecily, I'm fucking coming in you," before he drives himself into me a final time, dropping his elbows on either side of my head and shuddering, panting over my head.

I'm dazed and open under him, my walls still massaging his length as he draws out of me. He replaces his dick with a series of fingers and I whine underneath him.

"We had a deal, now feed me," I complain, blinking and jostling my arms against the countertop to situate myself. He places a flat hand against my pelvis and rides his fingers up against the spongy front wall inside me, his thumb gliding over my clit.

"We didn't have a deal, and I want you as lost as me," he explains cryptically as my movements turn to writhing beneath his hands. The oversensitization is torturous, and I balance on that searing point of light, legs cramping and still wrapped around his waist, until he pushes me over into the valley below.

"Fuuuuuuck," I breathe, as he backs away from me, drawing apart my thighs and looking at his own handiwork.

"We made a beautiful mess here," he decides, as he steps back, picking my gown up from off the floor and shaking it out. I stand, wobbly, and hold my hand out for it, but he walks to a chair at the table and lays it over the seat, gesturing for me to sit down. "I didn't put all that work in to not see the results after," he grins.

I roll my eyes and sit, feeling the extent of my excitement all over my thighs and rear. "Says the man who I had screaming my name," I say, but he only grins wider.

"Yeah, and I'm going to fuck you in the shower next," he informs me, bringing me a plate of cold toast and lukewarm sausages.

"You think so?" I say drily, watching him set down his own plate.

"I'd argue about it with you, Cis, but I really want to eat breakfast before I get into you again," he says urgently. I'd rather not have to disinfect the table after this weekend, so I shut up and eat.

...

"I knew we'd be good together, but I didn't know it'd be like this," Vince thinks aloud, as we lay, skin still damp, on top of the blankets in my room. We never got a chance to get under them, and he's running a hand back and forth over the curve of my hip that he's so taken with.

I crane my head towards him, watching the bulk of him curled like a sleeping tiger next to me.

"What, you addicted to the pussy now? That's a nice thought," I chuckle, wanting to stretch under his hand.

"Cecily, you know I'm serious, right? I'm not going to try to hide it." His hand stills at my waist. I look up and consider his solemn face, braced against what my words might be.

"Well. What kind of serious are we talking? Cuffing season serious? More than that?" I'm beginning to think we should've held off on ripping each other's clothes off as soon as we did, because the potential for hurt in his eyes is... interesting? Puts a little fear in my heart?

"I don't really know, but I know I don't want anything else. I haven't wanted anything else since I saw you." He stares into my eyes, and I'm pulled into him. Not just anyone, anything. The gravity, the weight of his confession has knocked me off center, and I feel responsible for more than myself all of a sudden.

I focus on the wall of his chest in order to ground myself, and in acknowledgement he trails his hand up to rub at the nape of my neck.

"How about we, uh, we get to know each other, and we reevaluate next solstice," I say, unable to stop clowning.

"Cecily." If I look up at him again I'm going to see that shadowy, fierce face full of want that's becoming so familiar. Only it wants a lot more than my body, as I previously suspected. I need time to decide whether or not I want to run away from it.

I breathe slow and give in to what I want, moving closer to the hard body and wrapping myself in it. He returns the hug, one hand still cupping the base of my skull in a massage that's starting to lull me into a light doze.

"What?" I finally answer from the safety of his arms.

"We're gonna figure it out," he reassures me, and I grunt. I'm in over my head with this one.

...

"How was mini-golf?" Paula asks smugly as we walk down the hallway together. "Bet he was good at it. Good with his club." Here we go.

"It was fine. A real private, couples-only event that I'd like to reflect on by myself," I sigh.

She laughs, breaking her stride to prod me in the ankle with her walking stick. "You don't have to give up the goods, but I bet I'm going to hobble in here and see your boy shining like a glow stick."

I laugh in spite of myself. "Of course he'll be glowing, but because he's the resident sun beam, not because of anything I may or may not have done."

"Mmhmm." Paula walks me to my desk and passes Vince on her way to the maze of cubicles, set to laughing all over again as soon as she sees his face. He practically bounds over to me, and for the brief moments before he reaches my desk, I feel an uncertain flutter in my chest.

"Hey, honey bunches," he announces, setting his head in his hands and looking every bit like a golden retriever wagging his tail.

"This is the energy we're on today, huh?" I ask, opening up my email and seeing a couple from Harley already. Happy Monday, Cecily.

He just grins down at me, eyes ablaze, until I feel the contagion of his smile on my own face. A cough erupts from behind him, and Harley steps into view, looking amused.

"Pardon the intrusion, but I'd like to borrow my secretary for a few hours, Vince," Harley says. He shrugs before leaning over to peck me on the lips, and I narrow my eyes at him in disapproval while he bounces away towards his desk.

"I've never seen a man that large skip," Harley says aloud, before turning to me with her eyebrows raised.

"What did you need me for, Ms. Samfield?"

"Four interviews rescheduled for this morning, the first in fifteen minutes. Come review the resumés with me and sit for the first two? They're the most promising."

"Ah, but Ms. Samfield, who's going to be at the front desk to say 'Ms. Samfield's office is straight across the lobby' and 'have a great day' to each interviewee?"

She grins. "Rudy will be down in a few, come on."

At her giant oak desk we compare profiles.

"How was your weekend, Cecily?"

"Pretty nice, Ms. Samfield. Yours?"

"Probably not as nice."

I flip a short and sweet cover letter over to see what Robin Freeman's resumé has to offer. "Well we'll never know, Ms. Samfield, I wasn't with you."

She huffs, thumbing through her stack of papers. "So, no news?"

I shuffle the resumés in front of me. "It's amazing I haven't filed at least fifteen reports with HR at this point," I remark airily.

"Cecileeeeee," Harley exclaims, rolling her eyes. "We all know it went decent at least, give us the details! Luz said he took you golfing! This is the event of the year, you know. Our Q2 looks excellent, and a big part of that is the company rallying around my Golden Boy finally getting the girl. No comments at all?"

I sneer. "Getting the girl? What kinda fuckin' American Pie, coming-of-age shitshow do you think-"

"Hello!" Harley rises to greet the first interviewee with a bright smile and a handshake, and I follow suit. Robin Freeman exudes an admirable amount of charisma as she enters, slides into her seat, and engages in banter and a cheerful round of questioning from Harley.

She does toss her hair a lot, but to be fair her highlights are giving what they came to give, especially in the light from the wall of windows behind us. I don't see any grown out roots either, so she probably got it freshly done for a week of interviews or something.

I, in turn, sit politely and smile when provoked, driven halfway crazy by an itch at the crown of my head. Time to redo my braids again. Well... at least that's the plan. I don't think Vince said he wanted to hang out again this weekend.

"She was promising!" Harley says, drumming her hands on the table after Robin makes her departure. "Stay for the rest?"

"Uh... sure." I play my fingers against the grooves in the wooden desk, considering what to say next. "But uh, I've got a question. About Golden Boy."

"Oh?" Harley raises a tinted eyebrow and side-eyes me. "Is it a work question?"

The blinds over the glass facing the lobby are half-open today, and through them I can see Rudy speaking with the next interviewee.

I ignore the shit-eating grin that looks suspiciously like Vince's. "You said the whole office has been waiting for us to go out. Do you know how long Vince had uh, had liked me?"

I feel like I should be wearing a snap bracelet and carrying my books for second period as Harley leans in like a sophomore in the girl's bathroom. "Since he first spoke to you, Cecily. He hasn't shut up since." She frowns. "Well, Vince doesn't shut up in general, but, you know what I mean."

I nod, watching the second candidate, Victor Young, cross the lobby behind Rudy.

"And here I thought he was giving me the line he uses on all the secretaries," I chuckle somewhat apprehensively.

Harley looks over at me, about to say something, but Rudy walks in with two bottles of water for me and Harley, and Victor right behind her.

The rest of the interviews go smoothly, and after the last interviewee is gone I thumb silently through the stack of resumés, about to get up and leave. Young seemed most promising, with Freeman and her bob coming a close second.

"Cecily."

"Yes Ms. Samfield?"

She shifts arrogantly in her seat. "Harley."

I look up. "Ms. Samfield."

She snorts and slides the stack of paper from my hands. "Is it really too much to ask?"

"No, but what's a relationship without a bit of friction?" I grin, clasping my hands.

I watch her smile, but not laugh. She leans back in her chair. "What do you think Vince wants from you?"

I think it's just her being nosy again at first, but this seems like a guided question. I blink, and think about my response. "As in, relationship-wise?"

"Yes. Because it seems like you're waiting for him to get tired of you."

"Ah-" I shrug. "Well. Isn't that how this kinda thing goes?"

"Not in our family, no." She smiles and shuffles the papers in her hands, bringing Victor Young's resumé to the top of the stack before placing the pile in a shallow drawer beside her.

"Your family- you're related?"

"Cecily, Vince is my first cousin." She smiles and wrinkles form at the corners of her eyes as my jaw goes slack.

"For real?"

She nods. "Our mothers are sisters. The family's all very close. I'm surprised you didn't hear it from uh, him. Or from anybody else at the office, for that matter."

I shrug. "Oh well... I guess that's what second dates are for?"

She breaks out into a full grin and swings her rolling chair from side to side. "So there's gonna be a second date?"

I suck my cheeks in and let them out with a soft pop. "Text me if you need me, Harley," I call out on my sweet escape out the door.

"I like the sound of my name on your lips!" she proclaims as I let the door swing shut.

...

"Cheese or regular?"

I consider the fries through the display glass before me. "Forever cheese, friend," I announce, and Vince frowns at me.

"Don't call me your friend," he says, handing his card to the smiling cashier.

"Alright, acquaintance," I amend.

"Cecily keep it up and I won't buy you anything for the rest of the day," he warns.

I purse my lips. "I got my own cash, stranger, I can go all day."

"Two cheese fries, two shakes, one fish sandwich," the man behind the counter says. "Looks like she's got you in a corner, friend," he adds.

I snort and wink next to Vince, dutifully holding the tray of milkshakes as he folds the top of the paper bag of food closed. He narrows his eyes at me.

"We'll see," he glowers next to me. Back out in the sun, I sip from one of the cups in my hand and walk ahead of Vince to find an unoccupied table.

"So, Golden Boy, what else do you have planned for today?" I ease a leg over the warm plastic bench across from him and take another sip of my melting drink.

"I- what?" he stops rummaging through the bag of food, looking down at me with a hesitant smile.

"What else do you have planned for today?"

He sets my fries down in front of me. "No, where did you get that nickname?"

I set my milkshake down and lick my lips, watching Vince's gaze flicker briefly to my mouth before I take a pocket size hand sanitizer out of my bag. "Just something Harley said the other day. Why, is it special?"

He folds his bulk under the table and reaches a hand out, palm up. Wordlessly I squeeze hand sanitizer into it.

"What else has Harley been saying to you?"

I blink vapidly. "Nothing incriminating this week. Cancel her 4 o' clock, make sure the interns take their fifteens, you're both cousins, send through the approval for Rudy's vacation days. I think that's it."

Vince huffs and pulls the sandwich out of the bag, then starts hunting for a plastic knife. "She couldn't keep a secret if I paid her to, huh?"

I slide a fry out from under Vince's hand, shrugging. "I'd assume she's the one paying you, but regardless, you know her a lot better than I do."

He hands me half of the fish sandwich in the wrapper, placing his own half on a fistful of paper napkins. "Cecily, it doesn't bother you?"

"Should it? I do know she's related to a lot of higher ups in the company, and now that you're somehow connected to them, too."

"So?" He runs his hands over the items in the bag until he finds his container of fries.

"So you're still the cute IT guy. What does all that have to do with me?"

"Huh. Well," he begins, studying the yellow goop drowning his fries. "For one, I wanted to keep it hidden from you. Thought you'd be curious at least."

"You wanted to keep it private, it's not my business. I respect that. There's another reason?" I bite my half of the sandwich and start wrestling with a slice of pickle that was hidden under the bun, trying to bite it in half.

"Yeah. Uh... I guess it's kind of a continuation of the first one. I want this kind of thing to matter to you."

I stop chewing so I can hear him clearly. "Meaning?"

"I want you to be my girlfriend." His eyes shift up to mine and hold them, stirring the liquid at the top of his slightly melted vanilla shake.

I've reached for another french fry, letting the cheese drip off before bringing it to my mouth. I drop it onto my sandwich wrapper.

"I'd like that." I could've just said 'okay'. I could've asked 'what would that entail, exactly?' or 'really now?' But he's taking a chance on me. I can take a chance on him, let my enthusiasm for him show.

His smile comes as the clouds part, and I see that damned halo appear above his head as my heart hops around in my chest. And I hope I'm not making a mistake.