The door opened immediately to a smiling Victoria who dragged him inside and shut the door with a click. James stood taking in the expensive décor, his eyes wandering over the elegant furniture and carefully chosen artwork that spoke of Victoria's refined taste.
He felt the soft touch of Victoria's hand leading him toward the bed where she sat him down and climbed after him, settling herself between his open legs with her back to his chest. The position felt intimate yet comfortable, like they had done this countless times before.
"How did you find my family?" she asked, her voice carrying genuine curiosity.
James responded with obvious enthusiasm, his words tumbling out with eager warmth. "Tori, I finally got to meet Ethan! The same Ethan I bought that dinosaur gift for months ago. He's such a bright kid, and he remembered every single fact I mentioned about the Allosaurus. Your whole family is so down to earth and welcoming. I felt like I belonged there."
His voice grew more animated as he continued. "Your father, though... I have to admit, I was terrified when I first met him. He has this intimidating presence, this commanding stature. Now I know where you get your striking looks from. Those same sharp eyes, that confident bearing. I thought he was going to interrogate me like some kind of corporate tribunal."
James chuckled at the memory. "Then he started asking about my background, my intentions, my five-year plans. I was sweating through my shirt. I kept thinking, 'This is it. Maybe he's going to decide I'm not good enough for his daughter.'"
The fondness in his voice was unmistakable as he went on. "Then something shifted. Maybe it was when I mentioned my interest in engineering, or when we started talking about sustainable development projects. Suddenly we're having this incredible conversation about innovation and problem-solving. The man is brilliant, Tori. Absolutely brilliant."
James's enthusiasm bubbled over as he described their tennis match. "And on the court, Tori? Your father is a machine. I thought I was decent at tennis, really I did. I've been playing since college, learnt the basics. I was feeling pretty confident walking onto that court. Then your dad served his first ball, and I realized I was about to get schooled."
He laughed, the sound rich with admiration. "His strategy is incredible. He doesn't rely on power, he uses precision and placement. Every shot is calculated, every move deliberate. I was running around that court like an amateur while he barely broke a sweat. I managed to win one game in two sets, and I'm pretty sure he was being generous."
Victoria had stopped listening almost from the moment James began speaking. Her attention had shifted entirely to his hands, studying the long fingers that gestured as he talked, the strong palms that could be so gentle when they touched her face. Her mind raced with possibilities, her mother's advice echoing in her thoughts.
Take it slow. Introduce him step by step. Do not scare him away.
She needed to be strategic, calculated. The aggressive approach had failed spectacularly. This time, she would be patient, methodical and a bit assertive. She would make him want her as much as she wanted him.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she considered her options. His hands were right there, so close to her body. She could feel the warmth radiating from his chest against her back, could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering traces of his shower gel.
The temptation to move fast, to take what she wanted, burned through her veins. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and kiss him, to pull him down onto the bed and finally bridge this impossible gap between them. Yet she forced herself to remember the careful plan she and her mother had discussed.
James continued his enthusiastic recounting, completely oblivious to the war raging in Victoria's mind. "Then after tennis, he wanted to show me his...."
Victoria's pulse quickened as she made her decision to execute the plan. Mom I'm trusting you. Slowly, carefully, she lifted both of his hands from where they rested at her sides. James continued talking, his voice filled with genuine excitement about her family, unaware of her intentions.
"He told me stories about building your first dollhouse, how you insisted on helping with every step even though you were only six years old. Said you had opinions about the paint colors and refused to let him use anything but the finest sandpaper..."
Victoria brought his hands up, pressing his palms against the heavy mounds of her breasts, then gently squeezed his fingers around the curves. The sensation was instant and overwhelming. She nearly fainted from how intoxicating it felt, pleasure shooting through her system like an electric zap.
A choked "mmm" escaped from the back of her throat.
James stopped talking mid-sentence, his words dying as he looked down to where his hands now rested, pressed against two soft, rounded curves by Victoria's deliberate action. He looked at her, completely taken aback by the sudden shift from innocent conversation to this intimate contact.
"What are you doing?"
Hearing the slight edge to his voice, Victoria reluctantly put his hands down. "You shouldn't mind me," she said, her voice reduced to a soft, sultry tone hardly anything like her usual sharpness. "Tell me more about the dollhouse story."
James looked at her skeptically. "You seemed to have stopped listening entirely."
"I'm listening now. Please continue."
He studied her face for a moment before continuing his recounting. "Well, as I was saying, he told me you insisted on using only the finest sandpaper, and you had very specific opinions about the paint colors. Said you wanted everything to be perfect, even at six years old."
Victoria zoned out once more, staring so intently at his hands as if to bore a hole through them. Her body was still reeling from the overwhelming sensations. His palm, God, his palm had covered her chest perfectly. It fit so well she was almost going crazy trying to contain her raging impulses.
This time she took his hands in hers and carefully played with his fingers, linking hers with his in what appeared to be an innocent gesture just to let his guard down. Unable to wait again, she swallowed hard as she went in for another attempt.
Slowly, she brought his hand up again to her breasts and none too gently squeezed the tender flesh. The moan she elicited this time was much louder and lewd. "Ohhh, James..."
James body reacted quickly to the provocations. He didn't know where to put his mind that didn't border on inappropriate thinking about the cottony feel of the delicate flesh beneath his palms and the erotic moan loud enough to wake up her parent's. He freed himself instantly like he's been burnt.
"Okay, no. That's it. I should leave." He pushed Victoria aside gently.
Before he could get away, Victoria held him down firmly. "If you leave now, I swear to whatever deities out there, I will scream."
There was a beat of silence.
Then, coldly she announced, "You walk out that door, I scream."
James turns slowly, eyes wide. "What?"
"I'll scream bloody murder," she says, arms crossed. "Let the whole building and my parents know you got me hot, teased me, and then left me hanging."
James gave her an incredulous look. "You can't be serious."
She takes a step forward. "Try me." Victoria challenged eyes ablaze.
He held her gaze. Her eyes dare him. He doesn't move.
She smirks, triumphant. "Good. Now...touch your favorite part of me. Fast."
James saw the determination in her eyes, in her tone. She really wouldn't back down. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I like everything about you."
Victoria's lip twitch. A humorless scoff. "Of course you do."
He opens his mouth but she cuts him off already guessing his words of going slow, stepping into his space.
"You think this is just about lust?" she snaps. "No, James. This is about need. I'm not made for slow and patient. I burn. Every second you keep your hands off me, I burn."
James speaks carefully. "I just… I want us to mean something--"
"We already mean something!" she fires back. "And this--" she gestures to her body, "--this is how I show it. This is how I need you to respond to me."
She bites her lip, voice trembling with frustration.
James clenches his fist, jaw tight as he fought for rational control, "Victoria…"
"It's Tori. I am dying over here."
Her voice dips as she corrects, sultry and cracked with hunger. "You think I don't know what I want? I've wanted you since the day at the Petrov's anniversary. I might look all polished and perfect, but inside…" She steps closer, heat rising between them. "Inside, I am filthy with thoughts of you."