SWNOVELS Off to the Races: Chapter 24
Vaughn yanks me to him and before I know it, he’s flipped me around and pressing me back into the solid pine door.
His movements are confident, steady, authoritative, but his touch is gentle. I shiver as I watch him take total command of our interaction. He moves with the grace and surety of a mountain lion, and I stand before him panting and wide-eyed.
Like the most clueless prey.
My voice comes out shakier than I’d like, “I thought you just said you wanted the same thing?”
His hand glides up over my throat before he comes to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him, at his handsome face, and his dark eyes searching mine, shifting between each of my irises, like he’s reading an open book.
“I do.” Heat pools between my thighs at the deep rasp of his voice. “Let me redefine that line you keep talking about: you are more than my employee and I am more than your boss. I’m done giving you space that we both don’t want. It’s not at all complicated. You’ll work with me during the day and underneath me at night. Every night. There will be no tiptoeing. There will be no running. There will be no one else.”
Blood rushes in my ears. All my protests die on my dry tongue.
“I fucked up this week, backing off the way I did. What I should have told you is that I want you and to win races. I want it all.”
He’s nuts. So goddamn bossy. And he’s never been hotter. My head spins with the weight of his confession.
“Tell me you don’t want that, and I’ll walk out this door. I’ll pretend we never happened.”
That last promise is like a spear to my heart. How could I ever pretend we hadn’t happened? It would be impossible, and the weight of that prospect is too much to bear.
My hands slide up the lapels of his suit jacket to grip the collar. It never fails to amuse me he continues wearing suits while living and working in the middle of nowhere. He regards me silently, waiting for me to say something, to respond to his admission. My tongue darts out across my bottom lip as I scour his features, admiring him with no shame. His shapely lips, his strong brow, the sharp definition of his jaw, and the stubble that blooms out from there below his high cheek bones. His brand of beauty is harsh and overwhelming in its masculinity. He isn’t smooth and shiny. His beauty hurts.
More than that, he’s a good man. I know it in my bones. In my marrow. He’s so different from what I expected. It makes my chest ache with longing, with the pain of my distrust.
I sound breathless even to myself when I blurt out, “This is such a bad idea.”
His stubble rasps across my jaw as he presses a feather-light kiss just beside my mouth. Taunting me. Leading me down a path that I’m sure there’s no coming back from. “Lose the dress and I’ll prove to you otherwise.”
He kisses me below my ear now, nipping gently there.
“But—”
“Billie, stop. Nothing else matters.”
The man makes me crazy; hot, cold, excited, angry, comfortable, anxious, safe. He’s chosen me, and I don’t think that anyone in my entire life has truly chosen me or gone after me when I ran away. And here he is, invading my space in the most delicious way, demanding that I choose him back.
It seems like a small gesture, but to my twisted heart it feels like everything. Right now, held by him, surrounded by his bulk and scent, all l I want to do is stop denying my feelings. To get out of my head for the first time in years and let his infectious heat thaw me out.
I’m tired. Tired of running, tired of planning, tired of pretending I don’t want him. My resolve crumbles as my head races. He’s right. Nothing else matters.
Trying to control my erratic breathing, I take a hold of the hem of my dress. Vaughn still has my chin grasped in his warm palm; his thumb is rubbing circles on my cheek reassuringly, only stopping as I pull it over my head and drop it unceremoniously on the floor. It pools by my feet along with all my inhibitions.
His sharp intake of air is loud in the quiet room as his hawkish eyes devour my body. I stand before him, naked, save for my black lace panties and bra and a pair of brown wedge heels.
“Fuck, Billie. You are exquisite.”
His hands drag down to my breasts, squeezing and caressing them, pulling them out over the top of my bra before discarding it. He holds one in each big palm, before his head drops down to pull each hard nipple between his sinful lips. The feel of his mouth on my body is new and familiar all at the same time.
Like we’ve been here before, like he’s known my body for years. Like we were made for each other.
My head tips back on a moan, and I run my fingers through his thick hair, whimpering. “Please don’t ever pretend we never happened.”
He slides back up to look me in the eye, cupping my head with both hands. “You’re even more insane than I already thought if you think I could ever forget us.” His lips crash down onto mine, and he pours his frustration into the kiss. His intensity is almost palpable, like I could reach out and run my fingers through it. He possesses me with his expert mouth, leaving me breathless and writhing up against the door. Leaving me damp and wanting more when he pulls away.
His hands drift down the gentle curves of my body before lifting me up and walking across to the kitchen island. “Sit on the counter.”
He nods at the butcher block island beside me, and for once I’m not annoyed by him being domineering. Heat coils at the base of my spine as I move to do what he’s requested. I shift over on wobbly legs and with his hands on my hips, I sit on the cold counter.
He steps away, putting space between us, as he crosses his arm and leans back against the opposite counter. I want him closer. I want his hands all over me. I want him inside me.
“If we’re doing this, there can’t be anymore secrets, Billie. I can’t take anymore dishonesty in my life. Please don’t hide your past from me.” His voice cracks with emotion and my heart lurches. He’s such a noble man, and the sting of his idol’s betrayal won’t be easily erased. But my promise to be better is a start.
“No more secrets,” I whisper back.
He nods with authority. “Good. Now pull those skimpy panties to the side and show me how you touch that pretty pussy when you’re alone and thinking of me.”
Jesus Christ.
My breath catches in my throat. Shyness overtakes me as I feel unfamiliar heat creep across my sternum all the way up and to my bronzed cheeks. Vaughn Harding is not the square he appears to be. And looking at him now, the way he regards me with his hungry eyes, his sharp cheekbones stained pink, and his broad chest rising and falling like he’s out of breath, I want nothing more than to please him. To make him happy. To dive into whatever this is between us. If he needs this to make him feel like I’m really here, wanting what he wants, then I’ll do it. A thousand times over.
I look up from beneath my lashes, lean back slightly, and let my legs fall open. Peering down, I hook two fingers into the thin strip of lace at my apex and drag it slowly to the side, eliciting a groan from across the room. I subconsciously praise myself for shaving and primping so thoroughly today. Vaughn’s eyes are darting all over my form, like he can’t choose which part of me he likes the most.
The corners of my lips tip up. Urged on by the plain desire I see all over his face, I circle my clit a few times with my opposite hand and let a small moan spill out over my lips. Which makes his eyes settle on one spot. His posture is taut, and I see the bulge between his legs fighting against the fabric of his slacks.
While I have his attention, I drag two fingers through my glistening folds and then slowly press them in. I hum and close my eyes against the feel. The brazenness of what I’m doing, the arousal thrumming in my hips, makes me feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I put on a show, lazily pumping my fingers in and out of myself while he watches from across the room.
A growl tears out of his chest at the sight and in three long strides he’s standing between my spread legs, towering over me, holding my sensitive inner thighs open. “Do you have any idea how hard you make me? How wild you drive me?”
“Show me,” I huff out. And he needs no further urging.
His hands undo his belt and mine attack the buttons along the front of his dress shirt in unison. I want to see everything that I’ve only been able to feel. I want him disheveled and undone under my hands. I want him to feel as out of control as I do.
His cock springs free from his briefs as he pushes them down. He fists the base of it firmly, pumping towards me a few times. I lick my lips and reach down to palm his steely length myself. Rock hard, silky smooth, and warm in my hand. And Vaughn completely naked? He’s an absolute vision.
“I… I want…” I’m speechless. I’m drunk on the smell of amaretto and the way he’s looking at me. I want it all. I want him everywhere.
“Tell me what you want, Billie. Say it.” His mouth lands back on the tops of my aching breasts, and the rasp of his facial hair tingles across my chest.
I grip his shoulders as I bring my head down towards his bowed one and place my lips and teeth right up against his ear. “I want you to fuck me.”
He’s upright and pulling a condom out of his jacket pocket like a flash of lightning, rolling it over himself like an expert. “Of course, you just happen to have a condom in your jacket.”
His eyes flash at my jab. “I only brought it because I knew you’d be impaled on my cock before the night was through.”
Okay. Yes. More dirty talk, please.
I roll my lips together and glower at him in response, loving his filthy mouth. He smiles back at me, gripping my chin again and running his thumb across my lips. His other hand lifts my thigh as he lines us up on the edge of the countertop.
I close my eyes, wanting to memorize this moment. The feel. The anticipation. I want to imprint it in my brain forever. So many months of longing, dodged advances, culminating in this. What could be better?
“Eyes open, Billie,” he rumbles as he squeezes my chin and tips it down. “I want you to watch me fuck you.”
He looks down, forehead leaned against mine, pressing into me, and I can’t look away. Wouldn’t want to, even if I could. He fills me slowly, inch by inch, and I watch my body stretch to accommodate his girth. Our heavy exhales mingle between us, as we hold each other’s bodies and watch them come together in the most intimate way possible.
I feel impossibly full as he pushes inside. And once he’s seated, I feel him throbbing within me. Seeing and feeling our bodies joined this way leaves me breathless.
He pauses there before he whispers, “Holy fuck.”
My hands loop around his tense neck, and I shimmy my hips towards him. “Vaughn. Please move.”
He thrusts slowly first, dragging himself out before sliding himself back in a few times, lost to the look and feel of our coupling. Then his lips find mine in a worshiping kiss, while his fingers trail across my hip bones as we slowly move against each other.
But it’s not enough. I want to feel it.
“I want more. Harder,” I whisper across his skin, urging him on.
His feral eyes fly open, shining with approval. Hunger. Desperation. And that perfectly cultivated facade unravels right before my eyes.
Finally.
He unleashes on me. Each pad of his fingers press into my ass cheeks as his hands grip me there. I wrap my legs around his waist as I cling to his muscled shoulders and latch on for the ride while he increases the intensity of his thrusts. His thighs slap loudly against the backs of mine as he plunders me.
He owns me. He possesses me. He fucks me.
His voice rasps desperately against my mouth, “Take it, Billie.”
There’s nothing gentle about the way our bodies clash. It’s all teeth and nails. Sharp gasps and growls. Months of mounting emotions bubbling over. Pure, tangible passion.
We’re explosive. Desire. Frustration. Longing. Anger. And something more that I can’t bring myself to put a label on. My heart stutters at the thought and my body shakes with the brutal force of his thrusts. Sensation overwhelms every corner of my body. The heavy thrum in my pelvis building with every delicious stroke.
This is what I want.
One of his hands slides down my body to land between us. His deft thumb brushes across my aching clit. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Come for me, Billie.” His voice is deep and demanding. The words fall from his lips like a direct order to my body. Heat builds in my core, making that spot beneath my hip bones pinch. The heat pools there, and my legs tremble with the intensity of it.
“Oh god. Vaughn, I’m going to—” My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. It burns and tingles like a surge of electricity spilling over me. My body shakes as I break apart in his arms. I know he’s watching me intently, my body, my facial expressions, so focused on my pleasure—and I don’t even care. I’m so lost in the moment, so lost in him, that nothing could distract me.
“So. Fucking. Beautiful.”
Aftershocks of the orgasm wrack my body as I hold him close, nuzzling into his neck, soaking up that intoxicating signature smell. I feel all gooey and soft, putty in his hands as he continues to pump into me. Good lord. This man is… so much.
“I’m going to watch you come all night long.”
His dark promise makes my body break out in goosebumps, and a shiver runs across my shoulders as his thrusts hit peak force and speed.
I wrap my hands up in his silky dark hair and run my teeth along his jawline before whispering seductively in his ear, “Give it to me.”
“Billie—” He snarls and bites down hard on my shoulder as he shoves himself deep in my body.
His hands squeeze my hips in time with the pulsing of his orgasm. We stay there. Our ragged breathing perfectly in sync. Holding onto each other for dear life.
I’m trying to wrap my head around the enormity of what I’m feeling, sitting on my kitchen counter in Vaughn’s strong arms. My head is buzzing, every inch of my skin is hypersensitive. I feel like he’s pried me right open, exposed all my soft and vulnerable hidden corners. My first reaction is to tuck them back away, to zip that side of myself back up—after all, being soft hasn’t ever gotten me anywhere in life. But here, in his arms, I feel safe. Like maybe it’s okay to embrace those feelings, like maybe I won’t fall apart if I do.
He trails the tip of his tongue across where I’m certain he’s probably left a bite mark. He dusts my neck and cheek with gentle kisses as he comes to face me.
His dark fathomless eyes bore into my honeyed ones as he says, “What should we christen next?” It’s a question as much as a request.
I garner an eye roll and an affectionate smile when I nod eagerly, “Everything.”