Page 72 of Dirty Boss

We made it three feet into the door before I jumped on Vaughn, wrapping my legs around his hips as he laughed andcaught me. His broad hands slid down to my ass, and the paper bag containing our dessert hit the floor with a dull thud. Then my back was against the wall, and Vaughn’s lips were devouring mine. The fabric of my dress rucked up between us, and cool air kissed the tops of my thighs. Vaughn groaned, clawing at the fabric until he felt my skin.

Then he froze and pulled back. “Are you—” His fingers moved slightly. “Are you telling me you’ve been sitting across from me all this time with no underwear on?”

I smiled. “Surprise.”

The sound that came from his lips was pure, rough desire. His hands shifted, and then a finger was inside me. I gasped, rolling my hips toward him, clinging to him with my knees and thighs. It was awkward, with his arm curled around my leg and my back pressed against the wall, but I didn’t care. I clung to him, pushing at his jacket, trying to get access to his skin. I wanted to run my hands over his shoulders, feel the prickle of his chest hair, soak up the warmth of his bulk.

My core was slick with desire—it had been since he’d held my hand and stood patiently by my side as his old boss rattled off feeding schedules for his plants. And when we’d driven here, and he’d placed his palm on my leg, I’d imagined how it would feel to have him touch me through the silk of my dress.

This was better.

We made it to the couch in the next room. I laughed as I fell back against the royal blue cushions, my knees falling open as Vaughn tugged me to the edge. His jacket fell to the ground. His belt jingled. His cock sprang free. He produced a condom, his eyes dark with need.

Then he positioned himself in front of me—and thrust in.

I cried out. It was intense and burning and beautiful. My fingernails sank into the rich cotton of his shirt, tugging so hardthe top three buttons came free. Vaughn grunted above me, hooking his arms under my legs to deepen the position.

I could feel him everywhere. I was trapped here, against the couch, my back bent and my head buried between two big cushions, and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. My existence was simply Vaughn and pleasure. Safety and heat and the sizzling lightning coursing through my veins.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, the rhythm of his thrusts gaining a needy edge. “Alba—princess—the things you make me want?—”

“I’ll go,” I panted.

He pulled back slightly, one hand on the back of the sofa, the other hooked around my knee. He batted at the couch cushions until he could see my face. “What?”

“I’ll go to the gala with you—oh!” I threw my head back as he drove himself deeper inside me.

“You will,” he said, snapping his hips.

“I will.”

“You’ll stand by my side,” he growled, his pace increasing.

“Yes—”

“You’ll make all those assholes wish they were me.”

I laughed, hands finding his sides, sliding up underneath his shirt so I could stroke the hard pack of his stomach muscles. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m just telling you what will happen,” he said, a bright, almost boyish smile flashing across his features. Then he shifted his arm to hike my leg up higher, and we both lost ourselves in the pleasure of the moment. I came hard, bent like a pretzel on his fancy couch, and then locked my legs around his back when I felt him go stiff above me.

Vaughn’s lips ran across my temple, over the shell of my ear. He breathed hard, arms trembling as he held most of his weight off me, knees lowering down to the cushions. He swore, thenkissed my cheekbone, then swore some more. I laughed, but it was mostly breathless.

“Sex with you makes me feel like I’m losing my mind,” he admitted, pulling back far enough that he could meet my gaze before pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

“I know,” I said. “Me too.”

He gulped. “I won’t—I won’t hold you to your promise. The gala—forget it, Alba. I don’t want to make you feel?—”

“I’ll go,” I said, stroking his face with my palms. He was still inside me, going softer with every heartbeat. I smiled, feeling grounded and light at once. “I want to go,” I told him, surprised to find that it was the truth.

“I thought you were hell-bent on refusing to go near that event,” Vaughn said, wry.

I smiled. “I changed my mind.”

His lips brushed against mine, then he moved to kiss the tip of my nose. “I’m afraid to ask why,” he rumbled, his cheek creasing as he grinned, his eyes tracing my hairline, my features.

I finally let my legs uncross and slid my ankles down along the back of his thighs, all the way down to rest them in the crook of his knees. I loved touching him like this. Feeling so connected, like our bodies already knew each other.