I wouldn’t have told him, but the solemn look on his face comforted me. Vincent wasn’t the kind of guy who made promises lightly.
“Martin Pritchard. I called him Marty.”
He nodded slowly. “Where did you meet him?”
“We dated all through college. He started out being really nice, but gradually got more and more possessive and jealous.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Please don’t.” I took a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea I had begun to feel as I recalled my dream.
Vincent said nothing and we sat in silence for a couple minutes. “Please let me get you a security team. You’ll barely notice them, and they could save your life.”
“Vincent, I told you this because you wanted to know, not so you could solve this problem for me. I can deal with my own issues.” I was scared of Marty, but I really didn’t want to seem weak in front of Vincent, like a woman who needed saving. What if I counted on him and then he disappeared? I would only have myself to blame.
His jaw was working again, but he didn’t say anything for a minute. “Fine. Do you at least have some way to defend yourself if he tries to attack you? Mace, a knife, a gun, anything?”
My head spun at the thought of owning a deadly weapon. What kind of person did he think I was? “No. Why on earth would I own a gun?”
“Let’s get you something tomorrow. Not a gun, but something.”
I shrugged as hot tears began budding up in my eyes and running down my cheeks. He was listening, but he sounded very worried about this. I already regretted telling him. He wasn’t running away, which was good, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated, or like I was too weak to deal with this on my own.
Arm still around me, he rocked me onto my back so he was over me, brown eyes searching mine. “Kristen, I’m glad you told me about this. We can handle it however you want, okay?”
I nodded, though the tears were still coming thick. As the burden of the whole situation began to lift off my shoulders I realized how stressed I had been.
Vincent kissed away the tears rolling down my cheeks with soft little pecks. The way his muscles bulged as he cradled my head in his arms felt comforting. I really didn’t want to deal with this right now.
“Let’s forget about this for now,” I said. “We can go to the store tomorrow like you suggested. I’d prefer not to think about it anymore tonight.”
“Okay.” He continued kissing away the tears on my face, sprinkling in kisses on my forehead.
I shifted and felt his c**k through his underwear with my leg. Even when he wasn’t hard, the size of his package was impressive.
He wasn’t aroused, but I was getting to be. I needed a distraction from this situation. I had an idea of how I wanted to distract myself as I reached down to grab him through his underwear.
“I think I know how I want to handle this,” I said.
He looked uncertain. “Are you sure? We can just go to sleep if you want.”
“I don’t. I want you inside me. I want my mind off this.” I peeled his underwear down his legs and free of his feet. He didn’t resist.
As soon as I had, he wrapped me up in his muscular arms and kissed me passionately on the lips, his hand moving down my torso to my panties as I stroked his cock. The way he responded so quickly to my touch heated my core.
“I can do that,” he whispered into my ear, his hand hovering over my aching sex. “Let’s take our time.”
Our sex was slow and deeply passionate. Vincent kept himself close to me, cradling me chest to chest as he moved in and out. When we came together, it was the closest I had ever felt to another person. Afterwards, he took care of the condom and came back to scoop me up across his lap.
That was incredible, he said.
“I agree. I’m exhausted.” I was in a serious post-coital bliss, actually.
He took a deep breath. “Kristen,” he said, “I will never let anyone hurt you.”
It was touching that he was still thinking about the situation with Marty. “You don’t have to protect me, Vincent.”
You’re not asking me to, but I will.
I scooched up so my hand rested on his chest and looked into his earnest face. It was at that point that I realized that I really believed it when he said it. Maybe Vincent was my type after all. As I closed my eyes and snuggled closer into his embrace, the last image I saw was the light of my cell phone, the only light in the room. It burned for a second against the backs of my lids then slid away, leaving me to bask in the warmth of the moment.