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“No worries. I don’t mind hiding in here with you.”
Sitting on his lap might throw my hormones into overdrive, but these kinds of comments are going to get me in real trouble. Vaughn is so much more than I ever expected. His sincerity and depth keep catching me off guard. I glance at him and get his profile, his attention focused where mine just was.
“That’s my sister.”
“The one you mentioned last night.”
He nods. “Yeah. She died ten years ago.” He turns his head and I look up into his eyes, hoping he sees how much I care. How honored I am that he shared that.
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“She was working out when she suddenly collapsed. By the time the paramedics arrived, she was gone. It turned out she had an undiagnosed heart defect.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. I’m not sure what more to say, but I want to comfort him. I can’t even imagine how awful those days were, the years since. Parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children. Siblings are supposed to have a lifetime together.
“She was a model, too, and she’d just landed her first major movie role and was ecstatic. She was poised to be the next big thing, and in the blink of an eye it was over. My parents were…” He shakes his head. “Devastated. Especially my dad. My mom used to joke that when it came to us kids, she was just an incubator, and that was especially true when it came to Andie. Dad managed her career from day one, so a huge chunk of his professional identity was wrapped up in her. They didn’t just share a father-daughter bond. They shared goals and dreams.” He shrugs out of my hold. “Andie always told me to enjoy having Dad as just a dad and not a business advisor controlling every aspect of my life, but I envied how tight they were. Then after…”
“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.
