by Violet Paige
“Fuck,” he growled with a soft whisper. “I’m going to come hard.”
I whimpered. My head rolled to the side, my arms free. My eyes closed, feeling the intensity of our bodies sealed and heated.
He pumped in and out of me until I knew his orgasm had taken him. He bit my shoulder, clamping his teeth into my soft skin while he pulsed inside me. His body rigid and still. The sting of the bite turned to a tender kiss. He pressed his forehead to mine.
“Shit, Emily.”
I exhaled. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He gently placed my feet on the floor, retrieved his pants from his ankles, and handed me my panties. He leaned over again to get the keys that had spilled out of my purse.
“We can go inside now?” I asked.
“We can.” He slapped me on the ass and I giggled.
I had never done anything so explosively impulsive. What if someone had heard us? What if on the way to work I ran into one of the neighbors who knew I had sex in the hallway?
I let us into the apartment, tossing my purse on the couch. I walked to the kitchen to pour us both glasses of water. Vaughn peeled the clothes from his body and walked into the bedroom as if he had always lived here.
I followed him and watched as he lifted the comforter and crawled into my bed naked. I blinked.
He patted my side of the bed. “Coming?”
I nodded. I slid the dress off my body and moved in next to him. He brought me into his arms and against the hard planes of his chest. He kissed the back of my head and within minutes had fallen asleep.
I stared at the ceiling in disbelief. His hands were wrapped against my bare skin as he fell into a steady rhythm of breathing. I inhaled deeply and let myself relax. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
Chapter Twelve
I flipped to the next open page in my journal. I looked at the last date and realized it had been two weeks since I had written. I leaned into the pile of pillows on my bed. I had a night to myself.
Vaughn said his business trip would be short. It was an overnight.
I had papers to grade. I had cases to study. I needed to submit a report to Max. And all I could think about was the cold shallow spot in my bed. I had turned to my journal, thinking I could focus on something other than how much I missed him. In only a few short weeks he had become a constant craving.
I kicked the covers in frustration, and marched to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.
The dishes from last night’s dinner were stacked on the counter. I closed my eyes, remembering how Vaughn had kept me from putting them away. The chills ran up my arm and down my spine.
That’s what I should write about. How Vaughn had infected me with some kind of sexual intoxication. I was a different woman than the one who had moved to D.C.
It wasn’t that the boxes were unpacked and all my clothes hung in the closet. Or that I knew my way around the Metro and campus. Those things had come with time. Each day I walked through my new life, they became a part of it.
I should write about how something tugged and pulled me toward Vaughn. How I could look at him and feel the current running between us. It defied logic. He had awakened me. Brought happiness when everything else was muddled and gray.
I didn’t know how he’d done it. I had dated other men I knew more about than Vaughn. It seemed by the third date I had a complete history on their favorite sports teams, who they voted for the first time, and every place they had gone on summer vacation as a kid. They weren’t afraid to hand over their biographies. They were scared to death to hand over themselves. The distance they kept wasn’t in a list of personal accomplishments or sharing every opinion that occurred to them. The distance came from under their skin. From time they could give. From fear that feelings for me would cripple their lives.
The irony was that Vaughn was the opposite side of the coin. I knew him better than any man who had been in my bed.
I curled under the covers and rested the wine glass next to the bed.
Instead of picking up my journal I reached for my laptop. It had been a month. More than a month, and I had resisted all my instincts to research Vaughn. Until now.
I didn’t have all the details. I didn’t have a picture of his past or the experiences of his life. I was selfish, but I wanted them.
I typed his name into the Facebook search bar. I waited for his picture to pop up.
Nothing.
I scrunched my nose and tried Instagram and lastly Twitter.
Nothing.
I started an internet search next. I came up empty. Vaughn Hunter didn’t show up anywhere.
I closed the computer and sat back. I realized not all guys liked to be on social media. And they liked being tagged and linked even less. He was a private person. I knew that. But I chewed my bottom lip, trying to figure out how I would ask him about it.
I couldn’t mention it without revealing I had tried to find him.
The question I had to answer for myself was, what difference did it make? Did it matter if I couldn’t find pictures of Vaughn online? Maybe I was spared the awkward pain of seeing him with an ex-girlfriend. What would I get out of scrolling through pictures of him with another woman?
My phone chimed with a text.
I picked it up.
Thinking about me?
I smiled.
Maybe.
I wasn’t ready to tell him that I couldn’t think about anything other than him. I knew it was too soon. I knew a month of dating and sleeping together wasn’t long enough to bare my soul. Even though it was as if Vaughn knew my soul. He knew parts of me no man had touched. Pushed me to a ridiculous Internet search. I was embarrassed.
Want to go somewhere this weekend?
I stared at the phone. Was he asking me to leave town with him? I scrambled through the schedule in my head, dying to tell him yes.
What were you thinking?
My responses were much calmer than my feelings.
I know this place a few hours away. Lots of wine.
I held the glass I had poured. He wanted to go to one of the wineries. I’d heard people at work talk about them. Fall was apparently the best time to go. Holy shit. I imagined an entire weekend with Vaughn on vacation.
I’d love to go.
He typed back quickly.
I’ll make the reservations.
Perfect
I had a deposition on Monday with Lana Foley, but I could still make this work. I’d have to tell Vaughn we needed to leave earlier on Sunday, but I wasn’t going to say no. I’d work my ass off the rest of the week to prepare.
It was the without a doubt the most intimidating and daunting case of my life, going up against a U.S. senator. But Vaughn was just as important. I thrived with him. I needed him. A flash of hesitation whipped through me. Was it irresponsible to put Lana’s case behind my relationship with Vaughn?
I convinced myself I wasn’t doing that. I had the rest of the week to prepare. And it wasn’t as if a deposition was the same as being in the courtroom. I had a long way to go on her case. This was only the beginning. The first stride in the marathon. Right now I wanted to spring to Vaughn.
***
On Friday afternoon I skirted past Meg, shoving files in my messenger bag. I still had to pack a suitcase and change for our drive to the winery. I made a list of what to pack. If I hurried, I could throw it together in ten minutes.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Weekend plans.” I smiled.
“That’s all you’re going to say? You never leave early.”
I paused in front of her desk. “It’s with a guy.”
“Really? That sounds serious. A weekend trip. Wow.”
I shrugged, trying to downplay the significance. “It’s just a quick trip. I’ll be in Monday for Mrs. Foley’s deposition.”
“I’m not worried about a deposition.” She rolled her eyes. “Tell me who the guy is. That’s more interesting.”
“More interesti
ng than prosecuting a senator who had an affair and fired his mistress when she got pregnant? Your definition of interesting is skewed,” I teased.
“Oh come on,” she whined.
“Maybe after the weekend,” I hinted. “See you Monday morning.”
“You can’t leave like that.”
I laughed. “Have a good weekend, Meg.”
I left her to contend with Addie. I ignored my officemate’s sideway glare when I stacked my files and turned off my laptop at least an hour early for a work day. After working together in close quarters for over a month, Addie still hadn’t warmed up to the idea of sharing space. She didn’t like to collaborate on cases. She didn’t like to share the students.
Most days I felt as if she were guarding secrets, protecting her methods in case I might steal them. The program was competitive, but I didn’t view the other attorneys as my nemeses. I accepted she did.
The odds were stacked against us. With the amount of residents in the program and a limited faculty slot, the margin was too narrow to get caught up in defeating each other. Working in the clinic helped me see that there was enough evil being waged on women in the world. I wasn’t about to pile on it by back-stabbing my colleagues. I’d rather not get ahead than push someone down.
The apartment was quiet while I packed for the weekend. I texted Greer that I was going to be out of town for two nights. I didn’t hear back from her.
She didn’t have access to her phone in some of the senate committee meetings. She said security was always a top concern. She had to leave her phone in the office. I’d probably hear from her later tonight. I wasn’t ready to give her other details anyway. She would interrogate me more than Meg had.
I quickly gathered a few outfits, making sure to pack a special black lacy number I had ordered online. I didn’t have a plan when I saw it on the website. Only that Vaughn had to see me in it. I zipped the suitcase until it was closed completely.
I heard a knock at the door and practically skipped to let Vaughn in.
“Hi.” His sexiness was devastating.
He pulled me in for a kiss.
“Hi.” I smiled, reeling from the way his lips felt. I knew if he let go I might slip off balance.
“Ready?”
I nodded. “I’ve never been to a winery, so I wasn’t sure what to pack.” I walked to my bedroom to retrieve my suitcase. “I don’t need anything dressy, do I? I think I packed enough, but…”
“It’s casual. Out in the country,” he explained. “Clothes are always optional.”
Vaughn tugged on the handle before I could reach for it. He lifted it from the bed and walked toward the apartment door.
“Coming?” He turned to wait for me.
I grabbed the keys, my purse, and locked the door behind us.
“Is this your car?” It was simple and non-descript. I pictured him driving something sleek, not a four-door sedan.
I waited on the curb while he placed my suitcase in the trunk. It had already started getting dark.
“No. I rented one for the weekend.”
“Oh.”
He held the door for me and I climbed into the passenger seat.
I watched his confident strides as he walked in front of the headlights. Once Vaughn was behind the wheel I let my shoulders relax.
“Hard day?” he asked. He must have noticed the change in my posture.
Everything about the trip felt surreal. I didn’t realize until now that I had been holding my breath, waiting for something to happen. Something that would keep us from leaving. Garrett. Work. Vaughn deciding this was too much too soon. I hadn’t let myself fully believe we would go away together until I sat in the car. It hit me, all the anxiety had been a useless waste of time.
Vaughn started the car and led us away from the row of brownstones. I frowned when I saw the endless line of taillights ahead of us. Everyone was trying to get out of D.C. for the weekend.
“How long did you say it takes to get there?” I asked.
“Longer with the traffic, but we should be there in a couple of hours.” He squeezed my knee.
Country lanes or city lights—I didn’t care. I was ok with a long car ride. I was ok with being stuck in a traffic jam. I was ok because I was with Vaughn. My hand slid over top of his and I sat back for the trip.
***
When we pulled up in front of the inn, I looked around for other cars.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
Vaughn hopped from his side and walked around to let me out of the car.
“Must still be in traffic,” he suggested.
I followed him inside. The door creaked as he opened it. But the house was full of charm. I loved it. The weathered beams overhead. The worn hardwood floors. It was gorgeous.
“Wait here,” he directed. “I’ll check us in.”
I stood by the door as he exchanged information with the man behind the desk and received the key.
“We’re ready.” He dangled it in front of me. “Why don’t you go upstairs and I’ll get the bags?”
“I can help you.”
He shook me off. “No. Go on up. I’ll be there in a minute. There isn’t much to carry.”
I reluctantly turned from him, taking the key, and walking up the staircase that extended from the center of the foyer.
It felt good to stretch my legs. Our room was at the end of the hall on the second floor. I turned the key in the lock. There was a monstrous four-poster bed. Across from it was a fireplace. There was a small fire burning. I walked toward it, feeling the gentle waves of heat floating in the air.
The flames crackled and popped, licking the logs in the grate. I wondered if Vaughn had called ahead to make all these arrangements.
It was easy to feel as if we had escaped the city and all the complications that lived there. It might be for only a weekend, but I could pretend Vaughn had rescued me. H was keeping me safe and protected where the only thing we had to worry about was each other.
A few minutes later I heard the handle click as he pushed it open, dragging the suitcases with him.
“Let me help.” I rushed to take my bag from him. I hadn’t over packed, but I wanted to make sure I had everything I might need.
“What do you think about the room?” His eyes darted from me to the bed.
“It has everything.” My heart did this strange flutter step. The room had everything because Vaughn was standing in it.
“Did you pack anything in there for me?”
My hand froze on the zipper. “Why would you think that?”
Vaughn strolled to a tray of wine and food. He poured two glasses of dark red wine.
“Put it on.” His voice was firm.
The thrill ran through my core. I didn’t hesitate. I gathered the black lace from the bottom of the suitcase and walked to the bathroom, quietly closing the door to redress.
When I emerged, the only light was from the fire.
Vaughn’s eyes landed on mine before trailing my throat and the clear path the deep-V cut to my navel. The sheer fabric stretched between my legs, creating a thong that was attached by a satin ribbon. I’d never bought a piece of lingerie so expensive or so seductive in my life. From his reaction, I knew it was worth it.
“Damn, Em,” he growled, sitting on the end of the bed.
“You like it?” I asked coyly. My nipples hardened under his stare. I knew he could see my every reaction. It made every motion I made feel more alluring.
His hands cupped my face, drawing me toward him.
His mouth covered mine as he held me in the kiss. Our breath was ragged and erratic.
“You wore this for me to fuck you in, didn’t you?” he whispered.
I nodded. God, yes.
“Good,” he growled.
He pulled me into his lap, his hands canvassing my body. His tongue lashed at my neck before licking through the fabric over my nipple. I gasped, my head thrown back in ecstasy.
His fingers climbed my sp
ine, massaging my back with hungry pressure. I leaned into his arms, knowing he had me. He wouldn’t let me fall to the floor. He bit and sucked at my breast, coaxing moans from my mouth while I lingered in his hold, my back arched in full extension like a ballerina. Offering him my body. Giving him everything he wanted.
I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin. He reeled me up to sitting, so I faced him.
“Did you see this bed?” he asked.
“Yes.” I swallowed.
He moved to stand, sliding my thigh away from his waist, and depositing me on the bed. He unzipped his pants, dropping them to the floor.
“You didn’t think I brought you here for a wine tour did you?” he asked wickedly.
I bit my lip. I didn’t care about wine. I cared about this. About spending the weekend in bed with Vaughn. About making him happy. About taking everything he gave.
His boxer briefs hit the floor next. The lust crept through me for him. I rolled onto my back, aligning my head with the end of the bed.
“This is why you’re so fucking perfect, Em.”
He drew one knee next to my shoulder and then the other. His cock bobbed in front of my lips and I whimpered for it. I curled my tongue forward to lick the glistening bead of dew. He tasted salty and sweet. I swallowed with a smile before latching onto the silky skin of his thickness.
“Shit,” he groaned.
I moved quickly, proud of how I could satisfy him this way. He began to sink his cock deeper into my mouth as I opened my throat for him. I sucked and swirled my tongue over the rigid lines of his erection. My hips began to rock gently as he pumped in and out of my mouth and that’s when I felt his tongue slide under my lingerie and lash at my clit.
I almost sputtered with the surprise. He sank deep in my throat as he pushed a finger inside me and his teeth grazed over my nub.
I couldn’t escape the fullness of it. My mouth was his. My clit was his, and my heat. I clutched and squeezed at his fingers, whimpering as he slid in and out of me from all angles. My orgasm was building, faster than I could control it.