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Disappointment flashed across her face before she smiled. “Do you know how to cook?”
“Enough to survive. How about a grilled cheese?” I offered, wrapping a towel around my waist.
“Yes, please!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
abi
There was a T-shirt waiting for me on Vaughn’s bed when I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. It was huge on me, falling off one shoulder and hitting me just above the knees. I liked the feel of it against my skin, but I missed Vaughn’s hands. Craving his touch, I went to find him.
His home was small, but plenty big enough for a single man. I glanced around, noticing the lack of anything personal on the walls. There was a TV in the living room and a couch. A laptop sat on the coffee table between the two, but it was closed. Everything was tidy and dust-free, almost meticulously.
Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I found Vaughn at the stove, two grilled cheese sandwiches already resting on a plate as he flipped a third. He had on a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and nothing else. His back muscles rippled as he shifted, his sole focus seeming to be on making sure he got my favorite sandwich perfect.
I paused in the doorway, watching him, eating up the sight of every delicious inch on display for my hungry eyes. Rationally, I should have been quaking with fear after what he’d confessed earlier. I definitely should not have been standing there clenching my legs together at the memory of how good it had felt when his massive cock was stretching me to the point of pain. Instead of scared, I’d been almost giddy when he said he was obsessed with me. And I wasn’t going to think about how wet I’d gotten when he said he stalked me.
Maybe I should have admitted that I’d kind of been stalking him too. Waiting at the bakery to get my daily fix of him. Trying to get into his class so I could be near him. Considering declaring history my major so I could continue to be in his classes.
If he was really stalking me, then he probably already knew all those things.
But doubt started to niggle at the back of my mind. What if he didn’t mean it?
And what exactly had he meant when he said he’d never done anything with any other woman?
He was a sexy thirty-five-year-old professor. No way had he implied that he’d been a virgin. I didn’t believe that for a minute. It wasn’t possible—even if I wished it were. No, he probably just meant he’d never taken care of another woman the way he had me.
I wanted that to be true so damn badly.
An alert sounded. Grabbing his phone off the counter beside him, Vaughn scrolled through his screens. Tension had his shoulders rolling, causing my gaze to find the scar that was parallel to the one on his chest, but this one was bigger. Whatever caused it must have been painful to leave the skin so thickly puckered.
He had more scars, random slashes creasing his skin. Each one I found caused a phantom pain in my own body. I wanted to kiss each of those imperfections, take away the bad memories that no doubt accompanied them.
Other than the scars, he had no other marks on his body. I’d grown up around rock stars. Almost every person I knew had at least one tattoo. My dad was covered in them, and Mom had a few of her own. Ali had already snuck out and gotten one that she had been able to hide from Dad so far, but when he found out about it, he would definitely throw a fit. And probably kill Sixx.
Seeing Vaughn’s ink-free skin made me want to brand him. He would look good with my name on every part of his body. I would spend hours tracing each letter, worshiping the man who claimed to be obsessed with me.
As I glanced down at my hands, an idea for my own first tattoo formed.
“Come eat, zhizn moya.”
My feet started moving before I could fully comprehend his voice had an edge to it. He was upset. I didn’t like that. Whatever was going on, I wanted to ease his load. Take away some of his strain. Crossing to him, I wrapped my arms around his waist. This was all-new territory to me, but I felt like I had the right to touch him whenever I pleased.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to read him. But his face was all blank, even though I could feel the tension coiled in his muscles.
Tucking a lock of damp hair behind my ear, he gave me a tight smile. “Nothing for you to worry about, my sweet girl.”
Pushing down the sting of hurt I didn’t fully understand, I took the plate he offered. If he didn’t want to confide in me, that was his choice. I wasn’t his girlfriend, so I didn’t have any right to pry.
What exactly was I to him, though?
Not sure I wanted the answer to that particular question, I took a seat at the small kitchen table and picked up one of the perfectly crispy grilled cheese sandwiches. Moaning as the buttery bread and melted cheese hit my taste buds, I covered my mouth with one hand to hide the messy way I chewed.
“So damn adorable,” I thought he growled.
Adorable wasn’t what I wanted him to think when it came to me. I wanted to be sexy. Alluring. His ultimate temptation.
More doubt clouded my mind, and I took another bite so I didn’t have to talk. He practically inhaled his own sandwiches while flipping through his phone. With each passing minute, his tension seemed to grow, and I wanted to hide. From him. Myself. Everyone.
