Love to Hate You: Ask Vicky...

Chapter Thirteen - The Morning After

Vicky woke up to tired eyes; lashes thick, distorting her vision. She blinked - her eyelids heavy - and groaned at the traces of a headache. She could tell that she'd gone to bed without washing off her make-up; her mascara now claggy and very possibly, smeared across her cheeks and pillows.

'Hey, you,' a seductive, lazy voice said, as a heavy arm draped over her waist; naked skin against naked skin. Vicky's eyes widened in surprise, before the previous night came flooding back to her.

'I didn't expect you to hang around,' she said, as nonchalantly as she could for someone who was utterly in love, and - were she alone - on the verge of breaking out into a happy dance; hangover be damned!

'Vicks,' Xander chided, in a warm, cajoling voice, 'I think we're past the awkward "should-I-stay-or-should-I-go?" thing. We both know you're crazy about me and for my part, the longer I hang about the more chance there is of a round two.'

'You're appalling,' Vicky said, finding that she very much enjoyed being appalled.

'But irresistible,' he said, nuzzling into the back of her head.

'Chris is gonna go ape shit,' Vicky warned. 'That vein in his neck is going to start pulsing again. He'll go red in the face and if you stand too close, he might shower you in spit when he coughs and splutters with indignation.'

'I think Chris would rather we have sex out of hours than have you assault me again. Did you know he wrote "male appendage" for my cock when he was doing the paperwork for the tea incident? Said it best to use "neutral" language on the accident report forms.'

'Mmmm,' Vicky hummed, with tepid amusement, as Xander flicked a thumb over her nipple. 'Can you imagine him and Zoe? "I'm gonna fill you up with my male appendage. Do you like that? My male appendage in your... womanhood?'

'F*ck,' Xander growled, 'I think you just killed my erection.'

'Good,' Vicky said. 'It's time for you to go, anyway.'

'It's only eight A.M.,' he complained.

'Yeah, but you're not my boyfriend, so no breakfast for you.'

'But if we dated properly I'd be entitled to a slice of toast?' he asked scathingly.

'Probably. Possibly. But I guess as you "don't date", you'll never find out,' Vicky mused, really quite impressed with herself for playing it so cool. Especially when her natural inclination was to march him down to the local jeweller's and show him the type of engagement ring she'd always wanted.

'Fair enough,' Xander sighed, slipping from her bed without taking the bait. He pulled on his boxer shorts and trousers, deliberately leaving his perfect, sculpted torso on display for Vicky's benefit. She eyed him with irritation, because he'd woken up looking like a sex-mussed model in a moody photo shoot, whilst she knew - without the aid of a mirror - that she looked like the bride of Chucky. 'I'll see myself out, then,' Xander smirked, sensing her appreciation for his body, and her insecurities about her own appearance. He walked around the bed and leant towards her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 'We're all good?'

'Sure,' Vicky said, uncertain what else to say. She wanted to ask him if their night together was another "one-off" in their line of many, or if it was the beginning of something that he liked to term "not-dating", but Vicky refused to be that type of needy female, even if that was very much who Xander Sinclair had managed to turn her into.

'I'll speak to Chris first thing on Monday,' Xander told her, falling serious, because work was something he didn't joke about. She watched as he pulled his top down over rippling muscles; her dry mouth leaving her unable to wet her lips in appreciation. 'I'll make it clear that what we get up to is our business, and that if he's got a problem with it, he's to talk to me, okay?' Vicky arched one brow in question.