Provocative Professions

by S. E. Hall

  I eventually find myself back on the floor, cuddled next to him in the sleeping bag.

  My stomach rumbles and Vaughn's head pops up. "You need to eat."

  "Face it, the rats have probably gotten to that can by now. Or mice…or roaches…" I ramble on and my stomach knots, no longer hungry. "Still gonna pass." I lean over his chest and press a kiss to the angry shoulder that he thinks I don't notice still bothers him. "But thank you." I smile this time.

  He closes his eyes for a moment, frustration obvious, and I wait for his complaining that never comes. For the first time ever he gives in and lies back down, cradling me in his arms.

  As we bask in sated happiness, the soft glow of morning light begins to filter in through the tattered curtains.

  "The sun's about up," I muse aloud.

  "Yep."

  "Maybe we should try to stay awake and do something," I suggest, unsure what exactly there is to do. Make SOS signs? He could probably piss it in the snow…

  His chest booms in laughter at my inadvertently verbalized thoughts. "Helluva plan, babe, but thinkin' it might not work. So unless you want to take your fine ass outside to build a snowman, I suggest you close your eyes and sleep."

  I nestle in closer. "True. Sleep it is."

  I hear it first, stirring to find the sun shining bright through the window and the pounding at the door incessant.

  "Vaughn!" I shriek, sitting up, the sleeping bag held against my bare chest.

  "Hmmm?"

  "Vaughn! Wake up!" Seriously, the guy can sleep through anything.

  "Paige! You in there?" I hear my name as the door bursts open, Shaw standing in the doorway wearing a black snowsuit and sunglasses, blocking the blinding glare. He enters warily, revealing two men behind him I don't recognize, also dressed abominably…like the Abominable…never mind.

  "Damn, didn't expect to find this." One of the men snort-laughs. "My kind of accident."

  "Shut it, Brady." Vaughn sits up, wrapping one arm around me and using his other to throw his boot at our rescuers.

  "Guess we'll wait for you outside," Shaw suggests, looking unsure of what else to say. "Brought this." He tosses a backpack at our feet then turns and leaves, pushing the two gawkers out with him.

  They're all but out when Vaughn yells, "Oakley? What the fuck you doing here? It's playoff season, son. You lost? I thought Harlow was long forgotten?"

  The giant guy who I take to be Oakley, turns around and shrugs. "Never. Saw the blizzard coming her way and jumped my ass on a plane. Although I was hoping to be stuck in a room with her, kinda like you two, rather than out searching the fucking wilderness for your ass."

  "What can I say, I'm a lucky son of a bitch." Vaughn glances my way, a smug grin covering his beautiful face.

  "Yeah, you are." I lean in and claim his lips, kissing him madly with no inhibitions despite the audience I can hear shuffling out.

  "Looks like we get to go home," he says when he breaks the moment, his forehead resting on mine.

  "What's the rush? Seem to remember you sayin' something about not being able to walk out of this place, and I still have a little bit of strength in my legs, so—"

  "That's my Firecracker," Vaughn growls, raising the sleeping bag over us with a satisfied murmur and sliding inside me effortlessly, filling me in ways no other man ever will again.

  Chapter 17

  "Whatcha feel like watching?" Vaughn asks, pointing the remote at the TV as I snuggle into his side on the couch. A couch!

  We've been home less than a full twenty-four hours, and after enjoying a real bath together and a snooze in an actual bed first thing, we just now finally feel like we're settling in.

  "Anything but Survivor," I joke, "or Deliverance."

  "Good call." He laughs, flipping through the channels. "I'm glad you listened to me and took the night off. It's crazy to go back to work so soon."

  "Mmm hmm," I hum into his chest, suddenly this cooperative person…I kind of like.

  Except for when people blare music from upstairs. What is the deal with the communication via stereo thing anyway?

  My mouth grazes up over his freshly shaven jaw, trying like hell to block it out. The added stomping seeping through the floor boards isn't helping. I glare up at the ceiling as "Welcome Home" blasts and feel Vaughn shake with laughter.

  "Not funny," I grumble. "Go tell him to turn it down."

  He flicks the TV off and pulls me into his lap. "Only if you come with me. Your cousin's up there, in on it too, and I'm not yelling at a female."

  "Fine." I push off his hard chest, the one I should be lavishing with my tongue, not walking away from. Dammit! "Let's go."

  I march up the stairs, ankle now wrapped appropriately, and pound on the door.

  "Babe, still my apartment." Vaughn snickers from behind me. "Just walk in."

  Don't mind if I do.

  "Surprise!" The music's replaced with the unified scream of…everyone I know.

  "What the fuck?" I lowly mumble out the corner of my mouth to Vaughn, who's absolutely gut laughing now.

  His arm wraps around my waist, hand settling on my hip where he gives it a squeeze. "Be nice. Amelia insisted," he subtly whispers in my ear. "I'll make you come for every smile you can manage, deal?"

  "Deal." I sigh, then turn a painful grin to the crowd. "Oh my God, how nice. Thank you!" Yes, that hurt.

  "Easy Sunshine, you're gonna sprain something." He swats my ass. "Just relax and have some fun, huh?"

  Yeah, I can do that. I'm exhausted and would've preferred a quiet night of TV after more adventure than I almost couldn't handle, but this Welcome Home party is too thoughtful not to appreciate.

  Amelia, Harlow, and Viv all bum rush me at once, smothering me in hugs and boisterous questions… Viv at least knows exactly what I need and shoves a beer in my hand.

  "Wait, if you're both here," I point to her and Harlow, "who's working the truck stop?"

  "Not me ever again." Viv's face splits into a smile brighter than the diamond on her left hand she's holding up and wiggling at me.

  "What? Who—" I search the room and there he is, giving a slight wave from the corner—the always suave and sexy Marcus Blake. She did it. She finally came to her senses. "Ah, Viv. Good for you girl." I haul her in for a hug despite myself.

  "Yeah, he wore me down. Figured, at my age, if someone actually wants this old rundown beater, I better take it. The moment I said yes, we flew off to Vegas and sealed the deal." Her smile grows, eyes glancing back at her man. "No more truck stop for me, at his request."

  "I'm happy for you, Viv. He seems wonderful, and you deserve it."

  I mean it. I just can't believe I was comfortable enough to say it out loud.

  "And you." I nudge Harlow's arm. "I hear that big, beefy dude over there's your Oakley. He's back, huh?"

  "He is." She smiles, shallow as a puddle, a sad doubt in her eyes as they find him across the room. "Not for long though."

  Amelia, always the optimist and kind soul, saves me from saying what's sure to be the wrong thing. "He plays pro ball, right? That's why, I'm sure, but he's here now. He obviously cares about you very much."

  See? Not what I would've said.

  "Didn't he ask you to go back with him?" Viv chimes in with the question on the tip of my tongue.

  Harlow's gaze is pinned to the floor, her entire posture depressing. "Sort of. He's doing some reality TV show for charity after the playoffs are over. He wants me to go there with him."

  "On the show?" I ask, shocked. Harlow's beautiful, but shy as hell. Hard to picture her on a reality show.

  She looks up and nods, asking me what I think with frightened eyes.

  Amelia? Jump in anytime.

  Nope, I get nothing.

  "Could be fun," I offer with a shrug, tipping up my beer as though dehydrated but really just occupying my mouth.

  "Ladies, can we join?" Two other women step into our group, and Amelia introduces them as Addison, the fiancé of one
of the hot guys across the room laughing with Vaughn, and Ashley, her boss and wife of Addison's brother—also a hot guy across the room with Vaughn.

  They both seem nice enough, and they readily chime in on Harlow's predicament, so I almost like 'em already.

  As all the hens cackle and Viv excuses herself to sashay over to her husband—that transformation damn near as shocking as my own—I tune out all the noise around me and find Vaughn…looking at me, warm smile in place.

  "Come 'ere," he mouths.

  "Say please," I mouth back.

  His brows crease and he points at me definitively, then at the spot beside him. "Please," he finishes with a wink.

  I slink away from the group and go to him, a little extra hip sway in my walk, giving him fuck me eyes the whole way. "You need something?" I ask coyly.

  "That too, later," he teases on my neck in a hot breath, kissing under my ear. "But first, I wanted you to meet my friends. With your clothes on."

  He goes around the circle, officially introducing Oakley Abrams, a something man for the somewhere Ravens; Brady Reynolds, a doctor and fiancé to one of the A girls I just met; and Dylan Porter, owner of, again, some business and husband to the A that was a wife.

  I'm well aware I should be putting forth some extra effort in the details—they're Vaughn's friends, after all—but Rome wasn't built in a day and I'm dying to crawl into my comfy bed, just me and my man.

  After a few endless minutes of placating smiles, handshakes, and obligatory questions and responses, I start to sag into Vaughn's arm held around me and rest my head on his shoulder.

  "Babe, you wore out?" he leans in and whispers in my ear. "We can go."

  This is where I should say "no, stay with your friends, I'm fine," but the transformation isn't that far along and I'm simply not that girl. I am, however, working on it, so I compromise.

  "I'm beat, so I'm gonna say goodnight to the girls, thank Amelia, and head back down. But if you want to stay, stay. And I'm not just saying that and gonna get pissed off if you do. I mean it. Stay and hang out."

  "One minute, fellas," he tells them, then pulls me over to the side. "Just like that, you assume we head out together and go to bed at the same place like a couple?"

  Whoa! Hell no is he doing this! What a—

  "Firecracker," he hisses in my ear, "don't get crazy, let me finish."

  I slap my palms on his chest, ready to shove the shit out of him, when he covers my hands with his own and leans back to look at my blazing eyes.

  "I was about to say that if you're actually at the 'we head out together, go to bed together, couple place,' I'd carry you, running over hot coals, to get there. It kind of shocked me, but in the best fucking way possible."

  Oh.

  Well, all right then.

  "Come on." He kisses me, pulling down my hand to weave his fingers with mine.

  "Everybody," he yells, getting the attention of the room. "Paige and I," he glances at me and smiles, "would like to thank you all for planning this, being here, and especially for coming to find us. But as you can understand, we're still pretty run down and, well," he laughs, "I'm taking my woman to bed. Y'all stay and live it up. Just keep it down."

  Then he does…take me to bed.

  Epilogue

  I drag my ass through the door after another exhilarating shift at the truck stop, at first thinking I'm simply disoriented and possibly hallucinating. Or in the wrong apartment.

  Robbed maybe? No, no robbers usually clean you out, not replace what they took with other stuff.

  I'm still standing there, baffled, when Vaughn comes swaggering down the hallway.

  "Well, whaddaya think?" he asks, cocky grin wide and playful.

  My brows pinch tight. "What do I think about what? This isn't mine or Amelia's stuff, and that recliner," I point, "has definitely seen better days. What the hell?"

  "Deep breath," he pleads in a low voice, walking toward me cautiously. "You in a good or bad mood?"

  "A tired one. Talk. Fast," I grouse, tossing aside my bag and working off my shoes.

  "Amelia and I switched apartments. She's living with Shaw now," he points upward, as though I've forgotten where Shaw lives, "and I live here…with you."

  We've been back almost two months now, and granted, spend every day or night, depending on our schedules, here together with Amelia upstairs…yet a bona fide switch is, quite frankly, freaking me the fuck out.

  "Hey, hey." He closes in, wrapping me in his arms and rubbing his cheek against mine in that way he does that somehow always calms me down. "I thought you'd be happy. We practically live together anyways, babe. Now I just don't have to keep running upstairs for shit I forget or run out of."

  "You gonna pay half the rent?" I grumble into his chest.

  "Of course." He laughs, running a hand over my hair.

  "And pick up your shit? I'm not your maid and if you leave your—"

  "Babe," he lays a finger over my mouth—he's always doing that—"do I not share half the load already? Have you found the toilet seat up one time?" He lifts a brow and smirks, damn well knowing the answer.

  "No," I answer slowly.

  "Then, the problem is?"

  Fuck if I know. I'm just supposed to react and pretend I'm not thrilled because…that's the only way I know how to.

  "Is it that there is no problem, and that's new and scares the shit outta you?"

  "Maybe," I mumble, diverting my eyes.

  "Babe," his voice is kind and understanding, "you know it's gonna be great. I got you. And you have me."

  Nope, too easy, so I pull a last ditch effort. "What about Lucy? Now I'll never see her and you know she likes me better than Amelia. In fact—"

  "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," he interrupts, clicking his tongue until I see my favorite furball prancing down the hall.

  "Lucy!" I say, too giddy and drop to my knees.

  "Of course I stole your lil' guardcat for ya, babe. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

  I look up at him skeptically. "Did Amelia really say we could have her?"

  "What part of stole did you miss? If I asked her, it wouldn't quite be a heist, babe." He chuckles.

  "You did not!" I stand, Lucy tucked in my arms. "This is the first place she'll look."

  "You really think she'll notice anytime soon? With all that fucking they do?" He places his finger to his lips for silence and casts his eyes toward the ceiling.

  And sure enough, there they are, the uninhibited moans of pleasure that I wish belonged to anyone other than my cousin.

  "Does Shaw ever take her out or I don't know…do anything else?" I ask, still stunned at how often they go at it.

  "What can I say, they know what they like. Which, babe," he mock frowns, "I can't believe you're gonna let her show you up like that, but whatever. Anyway, yes, I asked. Lucy is ours."

  "She hates Shaw. Loves you. And me." I snuggle Lucy closer. I've never had my own cat, or any pet for that matter, but all these changes are feeling right. "It does seem like we'd make the most suitable home—together, you know—for the sake of the cat."

  "For the sake of the cat?" His brows shoot up.

  "Yep." I fight it, but break out in a smile happier than any I can remember. Ever.

  "Come here." He crooks his finger and I set Lucy down, taking my time to walk into his arms. "Happy?" he asks, mouth against my hair.

  "Happy is such a vague word. It could mean—ouch!" I yelp, slapping his arm when he swats my ass.

  "Say it, Firecracker."

  "Fine," I grumble, loving to taunt him. "I'm happy. There. Are you?"

  "More than I'd have thought possible. Especially with a sassy shit like you. But damn, am I."

  "Ditto. Now draw me a bath, roomie. And I'll be there in five to join ya. Be ready to really convince me I made the right choice."

  "You got it." He grabs my face and kisses me fervently, intoxicating all my senses, and when I lean in for more, he pulls away with a saucy grin. "See
ya in five, Firecracker."

  Connect with S.E. Hall

  S.E. Hall is the author of the Amazon bestselling Evolve series: Emerge, Embrace, Entangled (novella), and Entice, as well as the bestselling stand-alone NA romance, Pretty Instinct. She also co-wrote Stirred Up and Packaged, stand-alone erotic quickies with her CP and friend, author Angela Graham and is honored to be a part of the USA Today and New York Times bestselling Devour box set. Stephanie resides in Arkansas with her husband of 18 years and three beautiful daughters of the home.

  Text SEHALLBOOKS to 41411 for text alerts on new releases and sales.

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  About Angela Graham

  Angela Graham resides in Tipp City, Ohio, with her three beautiful children. She is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Harmony series, Inevitable, Irreplaceable, and Indestructible, as well as a novella, Indulge. Collaborating with S.E. Hall, she has released two erotic short stories and is currently working on the next.

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  Ready for Oakley and Harlow's Story?

  Coming February 17, 2015, the first full-length novel by Angela Graham & S.E.Hall.

  Matched

  A reality show like no other.

  http://www.amazon.com/Matched-Adult-Romance-Angela-Graham-ebook/dp/B00RNDCN84/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8