Vic Vaughn is Vicious

It is fire, it is heat, it is passion. And I never want it to end.

But of course, the moment you think that—that’s the moment of purest pleasure. That one moment that we all chase, over and over again. Trying to capture it.

But you can’t. Love and passion, it’s not something meant for a cage. It’s fleeting. All the good things are.

We come at the same time.

And I do not even care that he’s inside me and that’s exactly how we got here.

We stay like that, with me in Vic’s lap and completely undressed, him underneath me, shirtless, but with his pants around his thighs. We stay like that for a good long while. We might even drift off.

But all things must end eventually.

I stir first, get to my feet, clean myself up with his already soiled t-shirt, then slip my pants back up my legs.

Vic watches me. Not expressionless, even though he’s neither smiling nor frowning. Just… content, I think. To look.

Then I offer him my hand and when he takes it, I pull him into me.

He takes my face in his hands, leans down, and kisses me as he whispers, “Yep.”

I can’t stop the giggle. “What’s that mean?”

“You are just as dirty as I remember.”

“That never happened.”

He sighs, slaps my butt playfully, and says, “You wish. Now I know.”

“Wait. So you were making it up?”

“Do you really not remember that night?”

“Parts of it.” I laugh.

“Which parts?”

“Not singing that song.”

He points at me. “That part is totally true.”

I swat his finger away, also playfully. Then we both sigh and head back towards the truck.

“I like your place, Vic.”

“Yeah? Which part?”

I stop and turn back around. Then I climb onto a rock so I can see it properly. “Well.” I point to another outcropping that leads to a little gully. “The house for one. It’s in the perfect spot because it’s three stories tall, but the lowest level is actually the bottom of the gully.”

“I love that level,” Vic says. “That’s the man cave. I got a nice-ass pool table in there.”

“Well, I have a room down there too.”

“Do you?”

Shit. Why did I just say that? I don’t know, but it feels right. “Yeah. I have…” I pause to think. “I have… shit, I have no idea.” I look at him. “I don’t think I have any hobbies.”

“No? Well, pool isn’t exactly a hobby. It’s just what I like to do sometimes.”

“Hmm. What do I like to do sometimes?”

“I don’t know, Daisy. What do you like to do?”

And this is very fucking sad. Because I don’t have an answer for that. I haven’t had time to think about things like hobbies in so long, I forgot that people do things for fun.

Vic moves closer to me and puts his arm loosely around my shoulder. “Skip that pointless room. What else do you like about the land?”

“Well.” I look around again. “I like that part over there. With that circle of trees. You should put a greenhouse out there.”

“Like for a garden?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “I used to have a garden. Not for a while now, but when I was Vivi’s age that was always my 4-H project. That and dairy calves, obviously.”

Vic snaps his finger in the direction of the imaginary greenhouse. “It shall be so.” Then he says, “Oh. Come with me. I have something we can look at.” He takes my hand and leads me back to the truck. I get in and scoot over, but he fishes around behind the driver’s seat for a moment and comes up with a magazine. “Here. Look at this.”

“What is it?” I take it and look at the cover.

“House plans.”

“You’re really serious about this place.”

“Fuck yeah, I am. I think I’ll put in an offer.”

“How much is two hundred acres?”

“Not as much as you think. Not out here. If it were up in Bellvue, then forget it. That would be nearly ten million dollars, which is too rich for my blood. But I’m no Spencer Shrike, so whatever. I like it out here. I like that you can see every fucking mountain peak.” He points down south and then his arm sweeps across the front range until he’s pointing north. “I like the sky. It’s endless. I like the people. They give no fucks and want to be left alone. Even the sheriff is cool. I used to date her back in high school. And I like the grass. It’s…”

“Ugly.” I laugh.

“So fucking ugly, it’s gorgeous.” He sighs, then turns to me and points to the magazine. “Wanna see the one I like?”

I nod and when he takes the book and starts flipping through well-worn pages of house plans, I actually get a little fluttery feeling of excitement. “Should I be worried about the sheriff?”

He chuckles, but doesn’t look at me. “Nah, Daisy. I mean, I freely admit that ninety-nine percent of my ex-girlfriends are crazy. Almost all of them have the ability to take insane to a whole new level, but this one? She settled down decades ago. She used to work for the Fort Collins PD, but they’re fucking corrupt. She and her old man moved east.”