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“After?” I whisper.
“After she died, Dad sank into a deep depression. He would sit in his study for hours, staring at the wall. That’s when I asked him to manage me. And just like that he had a purpose again. Someone needed him. I needed him. The sad thing is, I always needed him. He just couldn’t see it. It’s like if he can’t have the relationship on his terms, it doesn’t exist. But his terms are…unsustainable.”
I lace my fingers with his. He’s staring so intently at his sister’s picture, my chest aches for him.
“Andie knew. She warned me. I see that now. But back then I thought she didn’t want any competition for star of the family, so I blew it off. I should have listened more closely.”
“What was your favorite thing about her?” I want to end this conversation on a positive note before I lead him back to his party.
Vaughn reaches out and touches the picture, traces the smile that’s basically a feminine version of his own. “My sister was the funniest person I knew. She used to do these dead-on impressions of our mom and dad—behind their backs, of course—and make me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe.” A faint smile plays across his lips. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time.” He turns toward me. His eyes lose the faraway look as he absently tucks my hair behind my ear. “Thanks for asking about her.” Then he leans down and brushes his lips against mine.
It’s a simple thank-you kiss, inspired by appreciation, but chemical reactions don’t take motives into account, and the chemistry between us has been simmering since day one. The boiling point is dangerously close. Before the first tingles subside, his mouth is back. Not a fleeting brush this time, but a small bite, followed by a slow, deliberate slide.
Long, dizzying minutes pass. Or maybe just seconds… I lose all track of time with his lips on mine and his scent fogging my brain. When he raises his head, I run my tongue over my bottom lip to steal a hint of his taste, and his eyes track the move. We stare at each other for several charged seconds. I’m hardly able to breathe. It’s like he’s sucked all the air out of the room. All that’s left is his heat. His eagerness.
“Vaughn,” I whisper just before his mouth crashes over mine.
His lips coax mine apart. His tongue sweeps into my mouth. I drown in the textures and taste of him. He dominates all my senses, and once again I’m swept up in something I can’t fight. I don’t want to fight. Vaughn’s in my head, and he isn’t going anywhere.
Without breaking the kiss, he lifts me up by the waist and sets me on the desk, nudges my knees apart with his hip and leans in between my spread legs. I feel his erection through his shorts. My dress offers barely any coverage below, but I don’t care. Hot chills—is there such a thing?—race up my arms, down my back, and along the inside of my thighs.
Vaughn tastes like peaches and a hint of mint and I want to kiss him all night. I slowly uncurl my fingers from the edge of the desk and lift my arms to drape them around his neck. Bring him even closer. I arch my back, a silent plea for him to touch my breast, either one, just please hurry.
He groans against my mouth, and my wish is granted. He cups me like I’m fragile and rubs his thumb across my nipple. I’m pretty sure Vaughn can read any and every signal I give him. For a second my inexperience worries me, but when his hand slides down my stomach and slips under my dress to toy with the edge of my panties, I forget my amateur status.
This is really happening.
Chapter Eleven
Vaughn
I want to devour. I want to savor. I want to kiss Kendall until she’s breathless and touch her through her clothes until she begs me to strip them away, but at the same time, I want to flip her around, drag her panties aside, and pump an orgasm into her so hard and fast all she can do is cling to my desk and bite her lip to keep from screaming my name. I’m damn near paralyzed by the competing urges, but then she sighs.
It’s not a worried sigh, or a stop sigh. It’s the kind of sigh a woman reserves for the first taste of imported chocolate. This sigh says she wants to enjoy every sweet moment. It slides down my throat and feeds the animal inside me made of greed and hunger just enough to stop it from running wild. I soften our kiss, brush my lips over one corner of her mouth, the other, and then use the tip of my tongue to tease the sensitive crevice. I’m doing my best to make her think about other sensitive crevices my tongue could tease and making myself insanely hard in the process.
“More,” she murmurs. “I need more.” She opens her lips wider under mine.
Just like that, the animal is straining the leash. I plunge headlong back into the kiss, mouth fused to mouth. With one hand on her jaw, I slide my tongue inside and taste every part of her I can reach. After one long, compliant moment, she surges forward and gives me the same treatment, her quick mouth trapping my tongue, sucking furiously as I withdraw.
“I can make you come,” I whisper, slipping my fingers just inside her underwear. They’re damp. Thirst prickles the back of my throat. “The way I just kissed you? I want to kiss your pussy just like that, until it’s as wet and swollen as your lips. Keep kissing and licking until you come for me.”
Her heart pounds next to mine, almost as hard and fast as my own. Her stomach quivers against my abs. I’m sure she can feel the ridge of my hard-on jutting against her thigh. There’s no concealing it at this point.
“Right here, right now,” I add.
“Okay,” she breathes out.
Someone pounds on the door and she nearly startles off the edge of the desk. I keep hold of her, bury my face in her hair, while from the other side of the door, Dylan calls, “We’ve got a shitload of people out here, birthday boy, and you fuck like my grandpa. Have your private party later.”
I groan and slowly withdraw my hand. Having a houseful of people who assume we’re in my office, knocking out a birthday bang, kinda kills the mood. Also, it sends a message I don’t want to send, to Kendall or anyone else. She isn’t some random girl I snuck off with for a quick thrill. This thing between us might be temporary, but it’s not random. In fact, the last status update from Kendall was It’s complicated, and we should probably have a heart-to-heart about that before orgasms are exchanged, not after. Right now, however, the moment could use a little humor. I take a step back to give her some space, and say, “Two things. One”—I hold up a finger—“I’m going to kill my roommate. Two”—I extend a second finger—“I do not fuck like Dylan’s grandfather.”
She looks up from straightening her dress and smiles. “I really wouldn’t know.”
Where has this girl been all my life? I slide her hair over her shoulder and kiss the curve of her neck. “He’s in his seventies and has a pacemaker; I’m in my prime and there’s nothing wrong with my heart. Give me a chance later and I’ll prove it to you.”
“You’re on.”
Grateful she’s cosigned for picking up later where we left off, I take her hand and lead us back to the party. Music is thumping. All around me, people smile, laugh, flirt, and talk, but I’m not switching gears
