Dirty

by Kylie Scott

  "Thanks." My hand somehow managed to curve over his ass as he turned away. There may have been a subtle squeeze involved. Like a girl could always be held responsible for what her fingers did. Please.

  "I felt that."

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "Later," was all he said.

  Later.

  I couldn't wait.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Later turned out to be closer to midnight than nine p.m.

  Rosie's baby caught a bad cold so she couldn't come to work. Nell also wasn't feeling fantastic and had to be sent home, leaving Boyd to deal with the kitchen alone. On top of this, several large parties turned up without a booking, and we were packed.

  Eric took turns waiting tables and helping Vaughan keep up with orders behind the bar. By the time we finished cleaning, I was dead on my feet. But fighting it for all I was worth.

  "How you doing?" Vaughan asked, revving the Mustang's engine. "Still want to go on that date?"

  "More than anything."

  "What are you thinking?" He drove off slowly into the dark. We were pretty much the only vehicle in sight.

  "I want the full Vaughan Hewson Coeur d'Alene seduction experience, please."

  "That so?" Curiosity lit his eyes.

  "Yep." I linked my fingers, stretching my arms out low in front of me. Every muscle in my shoulders and back were in a state of deep crankiness. I couldn't really blame them. "Just like your sister teased you the other day. I want to be taken to some secluded spot by the lake, and for you to play me emo tunes."

  He laughed.

  "What happens after that?"

  "Ah." He rubbed his chin. "I'd dare you to go skinny-dipping."

  "Makes sense."

  "After that, we'd screw on the beach. Sometimes that part was rushed. Depends how bad the bugs were."

  "Ouch"

  "You're telling me." He gave me a quick grin before turning his gaze back to the road. "Hard to really enjoy things when mosquitos are making a meal of your ass."

  I snorted. "I can see how that would be difficult."

  "Hmm. Then I usually rushed to get the girl home before curfew. Sometimes helped her climb in a window or whatever."

  "Romantic."

  "I always thought so," he mused, face cast in shadows. "Never got any complaints."

  The world seemed empty, peaceful. There continued to be next to no traffic. We pulled into the bungalow's driveway and Vaughan turned off the engine. For a moment we just sat in silence.

  "Thing is, I'm not eighteen anymore." He turned his head, watching me in the near dark as I watched him. "I want better for you. I can do better."

  Without another word, he opened his door, climbed out. I sat, watching him walk around to open the passenger side door, and offer me a hand. Guess chivalry wasn't dead.

  "Thank you." I climbed out, taking my bag with me. The large envelope Betsy had delivered still hadn't been opened. Some jobs needed time and space. I got the distinct feeling reading over the settlement from the Delaneys would be one of those.

  Instead of letting go of my hand, he led me across the lawn and up the front steps. To think only three days ago I'd stood here, listening to Samantha call me every name under the sun while Ray talked to his lawyer on the phone. Amazing how fast things could change. The last few days Vaughan had been busy, cutting the grass and beating the overgrown front garden back into submission, getting the place ready for sale. Under the moonlight everything appeared even lovelier, every edge softened, the old house was a thing of magic. A lover's delight.

  Keys jangled, then the front door opened and inside we went. He didn't turn on any lights. The door closed and he pressed me back against it, the smile at his lips only just visible. "I know you asked me on a date, but do you mind if maybe I take over?"

  "Depends. What did you have in mind?"

  "You got to know?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Control freak." He laughed softly, relieving me of my handbag and lowering it onto the floor.

  "I gave up control to Chris. It didn't work out so well."

  "I know." He exhaled hard. "But I am not that piece of shit. I'd never deliberately do anything to hurt or humiliate you."

  My fingers flexed, tightening my hold on both his hands. A dead giveaway for the rush of emotions surging through me, from the intensity of his words, the sincerity in his eyes. Fear, lust, and everything in between filled me to flooding.

  I tried to calm myself. Casual sex with a friend, nothing more, nothing less. Just scratching an itch.

  Yeah. Right.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  "Yes. I just..." I licked my lips. "I'm fine."

  He said nothing.

  It'd been months since Chris had attempted any real touching and it had not ended well for anyone. Sex before him had been one long-term boyfriend in college (who got a job in Greenland after graduation) followed by many hookups. Some yay, some blah. Much the same as everyone else, I'd imagine. This was just one more. No big loved-up joining of private parts requiring poetry, mood lighting, and classical music. Declarations of commitment not required. Fun sex. The end.

  "We can always do this another time," he said, drawing back a little. "That was a long day, I--"

  "No," I blurted out, not sounding desperate at all.

  "No? You sure?"

  I released his hands, grabbing hold of his T-shirt, holding on as if my life was at stake. Or at least my sex life. He was mine, for the moment, and I wasn't giving that up.

  "Babe?"

  "I want you."

  "I want you too," he said, groaning as I pressed myself against him. He felt so good, strong and sturdy. Also, the man smelled fucking great.

  If only I could imprint myself in his skin, hide away in his arms for a good long time until things felt safe again. Instead, I flattened my breasts against his chest, wrapped my arms around his neck, getting as close as I could. Stubble gently scratched my face and fingers dug into my ass, holding me closer, encouraging me further.

  "I really, really want you," I said. "Not later. Now."

  "Fuck. Lydia."

  I knew exactly what he meant.

  "Your skin's so pale." His voice made gravel sound smooth. "How do you feel about biting?"

  I blinked in surprise, pulling back so I could see his face. "Biting?"

  "Yeah."

  "Um. I've never tried it."

  "Just little bites. Nips. Nothing to hurt you, I swear. I'll behave."

  "Th-that's what you like?"

  "I like you." He leaned closer, almost bringing our mouths together. "Question is, do you like me?"

  "You're my favorite person on the planet," I told him honestly.

  "I am?"

  "Yes." Dazed, I stared up at him, his eyes and mouth both so enthralling. My heart pounded and the air grew thin, every inch of my skin electric. I was more than alive and beyond awake, despite the overly long day. Desire is such a disease. It'd completely taken me over.

  "Thanks, babe. I like you a hell of a lot too."

  "Not just my breasts?"

  He chuckled, low-down and dirty. Warmth swelled to alarming levels in my chest. My heart needed to calm the heck down. My loins felt about ready to burst into spontaneous combustion. The man had started a fire in my panties only he could put out.

  To think, if I'd married Chris, I'd never have had this again. Seeing my needs reflected in someone else, being so in tune with another human being. Amazing. I might have spent my whole life having average sex with someone who wasn't really into it, and all for the sake of security. To have a home.

  "What are you thinking about?" Vaughan's hands slid over my arms, untangling me from him, easing me back.

  "Nothing."

  "Try again."

  I groaned, my face blazing to life. "I'm just grateful to have this time with you. I thought my life was ruined, that I'd made all these bad choices and messed everything up. But being here with you, things feel a l
ong way from bad."

  "Good." He kissed my forehead, smiled. "Let me tell you a story."

  "Now?"

  "Yeah. Right now." Then he went down on one knee, picked up one of my feet and eased off the very sensible black flat I'd been wearing all day. Excellent, my foot odor would knock him dead. Very sexy.

  "When I was fifteen I started seeing this girl who was a couple of years older than me, a senior." He calmly set my shoe aside and reached for my other foot, baring it as well. Hair slid forward, hiding his face, and he pushed it back as he stood. "She was a cheerleader. Had a hell of a lot more experience than me, which wasn't hard, 'cause I had none."

  "She was your first?"

  "She was." Fingers worked at the button on my pants, the zipper. The cooler night air hit my exposed skin, raising gooseflesh. Though probably, it was just him. Hot hands slid over my hips as he eased the material down. Down over my thighs, down until they lay on the floor and I stood there in a not so sensible pair of black lace panties.

  You never could tell when swanky underwear would be needed. Best to be prepared.

  I stepped out of my work pants, pushing them aside with a toe. "And?"

  "And I had issues meeting her expectations." He stroked my neck, running his fingers around the neckline of my work T-shirt. "Kept getting overexcited and coming too soon."

  I grinned.

  "She liked me, but ah ... she was starting to get a bit angry about it." One finger wandered, drawing a line down the middle of my tee, pressing in between the divide between my breasts. Of course he had my nipples' undivided attention. Hell, he had my whole body's attention, apart from my brain. It was swimming with happy hormones, drowning in them.

  "Huh," I said, because I'm an intellectual genius like that.

  "Not that I wouldn't finish her off. She showed me how to give her a hand-job, told me how to use my mouth." He gripped the hem of my T-shirt, the backs of his fingers sliding over my stomach, toying with me.

  My insides tumbled and twisted. My panties were wet.

  "Now that I think about it, she was seriously bossy. But I learned a lot."

  Up went my T-shirt, exposing my matching lace bra. Then away it went, flying off into the darkness.

  "Christ," he said.

  All of a sudden light flooded the room, blinding me. Bright patterns danced before my eyes, making me blink like crazy.

  "Sorry. I needed to see." Vaughan's big hands slid up over my rib cage, stopping beneath the band of my bra. His eyes were as big as ... well, my boobs.

  "Okay. You've seen now." I fumbled my hand along the wall, trying to feel out the light switch. Darkness was good. Why, it hid all manner of things. The bulge of my tummy and the dimples on my thunder thighs. Darkness and me were great friends.

  "It's staying on."

  "But atmosphere!"

  "Babe." He caught my hand, kissing my knuckles. "It's staying on."

  "Talk about bossy," I grumbled.

  He leveled me with a look. Or he tried to.

  "It's just that I would be more comfortable--"

  Before I could even finish the thought, he whipped off his shirt, dropping it on the floor. Next his feet got busy toeing off his shoes while he tore into the buttons on his jeans. With a hand pressed against the wall for balance, his socks were gone, and then so were his pants. Hey presto, the man stood before me in no more than a snug pair of blue boxer briefs, which happily left little to the imagination. He was so pretty. When it came to Vaughan Hewson, words were insufficient. I could spend all day trying to describe every curve and plane, each subtly delineated muscle. His long lean body was pure poetry. Poetry or porn, maybe both. My brain and vagina were still at war over that one.

  "That was fast," I said.

  "Now we're both almost naked. Feel better?"

  I shrugged, my greedy gaze roving over his body. Me in the light made for not much happy. But him in the light made for fucking awesome. Odd how every bit of moisture evaporated from my open mouth. Though to be fair, the wetness was desperately required elsewhere.

  "Lydia," he remonstrated, going so far as to actually tut at me like I was some kid.

  "What?"

  Again, he dropped to his knees. His head almost, but not quite, level with my breasts. Lips an unimpressed line, he stared at my stomach. Fair enough. My belly didn't do much for me either. Not that I'd put a ban on cheesecake and start jogging. Let's not go crazy.

  Instead of expressing concern regarding my Body Mass Index or some such, he pried away the hands covering my stomach, holding them captive with his own.

  "Don't do that," he said quietly. "You're beautiful. Every bit of you."

  Oh.

  Lips placed tender kisses across my middle, his tongue sneaking out and flicking over my belly button. I gasped, sucking myself in as much as I could.

  "It tickled," I said when he gave me yet another look.

  A brief smile.

  "Are you going to finish your story?" Anything to distract him from my body issues was a good thing.

  "Yes." He stood once again, rubbing his fingers over the palms of his hands. "Where was I?"

  "Her, starting to get a little angry. Me, breasts."

  "'Course." With a hand beneath each, he took their weight, lifting them gently. "Fuck."

  I had nothing.

  "Think I should just follow you around all day, holding your tits like this." He nuzzled my neck, the side of my face. And all the while his hands worked, massaging lightly, thumbs playing with my nipples. "You'll never need a bra again."

  "That should work well." It grew harder to breathe for some reason. Like my lungs were indisposed or out of order.

  "I think so." He groaned, pressing his cock into my hip. Big, hard, definitely turned on. And lord, so was I. At the feel of him, everything low in me went nuclear. Red lights flashing, sirens wailing. The way he was touching me, pressing himself against me. The wonder in his eyes and admiration in his words. It was all too much, but I never wanted it to end. My whole body burned bright. I could light up a city. Nothing else existed beyond him and me.

  "Can't stop touching you," he said.

  "Please don't."

  "Why the hell haven't we been doing this before now," he whispered in my ear, breathing heavy.

  "Because we're idiots?"

  A pained laugh. Then he nipped at my neck, the sting a startling thing. But his lips sucking, tongue licking the slight pain away was so sweet. I went up on my toes, trying to escape his eager mouth, yet keeping a death grip on his arms in case he tried to go anywhere.

  Fuck me. Confusion ruled my mind. There were too many sensations, both sharp and sweet. Firm lips and a wicked tongue. The licks grew longer, slower, as he dragged his tongue up my neck.

  Soft soothing kisses lined my jaw, the edge of my lips.

  "See? Not so bad," he mumbled, rubbing his nose against my cheek. God, I wish he'd get closer. Inside me would be good.

  "No. Not so bad."

  "Mm."

  I eased my feet back flat upon the floor, wound my arms around his neck. His hair was better than mine. Soft and silken. Bet the man only washed it with soap or something too. How unfair.

  "Do you have a condom on you?" I said, threading my fingers through his hair, stroking the back of his neck, touching as much of the man as I could.

  "Went and got a box on my break. A big one. I stocked up just for you."

  "Excellent."

  His hands slipped behind my back, fiddling with something. Then the weight of my breasts shifted, the straps of my bra loosening. "So ... my story."

  "Yep?" How he expected me to concentrate on anything, I have no idea.

  "I kept coming too soon and it was pissing her off."

  "Understandable," I said. "Can I just quickly say how much I'm enjoying hearing about one of your ex-girlfriends right now?"

  This time he nipped where my neck and shoulder joined, biting down harder, holding on longer. When he eased the wound he spread his lips w
ide, sucking on a larger area, drawing hard. Hands spread across my back, he held me against him, leaving no space between us. Blood rushed through me, loud behind my ears. My nerves fired, half in heaven, half in hell. All of me confused as shit.

  The man was part vampire and I had the worst feeling I liked it. A lot.

  "That one's going to leave a mark," he reported matter-of-factly. As if he weren't affected. Like his cock wasn't prodding my stomach, hard as stone.

  A smartass reply would have to wait, however. I was too busy just breathing.

  Vaughan eased back, searching my face for something. When he didn't find whatever it was, he slid a hand down between my legs. He pulled aside my panties and slid a finger carefully into me. Though there was no real need to be careful. Lubricant factories would have been envious. The state of my underwear was a damn disgrace.

  "Hot and wet," he said.

  I frowned. "Was I not supposed to be?"

  "Just checking." Once, twice, he kissed my lips. Quick, inconsequential things. Nothing like what I hungered for. The devouring I was after. He made a happy humming sound, keeping his finger in place. "I got worried when you didn't say anything. Had to know if it was working for you."

  "That makes sense."

  "Hmm." His thumb slid up into my panties, sliding dangerously near my overexcited clit. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair. The man winced, but didn't complain. And let the record show, he was breathing every bit as heavily as I was.

  "Should we have a safety word or something?" I asked, trying to thinks straight, to be practical.

  "Sure. If it makes you feel better."

  "Okay." The finger inside of me swirled around, pumping in and out, doing everything good. Every muscle down there contracted in glee. I could feel my pulse hammering between my legs. "Oh god, that feels good."

  "What's your safety word, babe?"

  "Keep doing that or I'll kill you?"

  "What this?" The clever finger teased my entrance, spreading the wetness around.

  "More."

  "Soon," he said, slowly withdrawing his hand from my panties. Dammit.

  I gave a sad, pitiful kind of moan. "No. Now."

  "So, she tells me I have to start thinking of something else when we're having sex." He pressed his thigh between my legs, keeping a constant pressure against my nether regions. Those being all of my fun girl bits, currently in desperate need of attention. It was impossible not to push back hard, even though it eased the ache only a little. His story eased nothing at all, and was quite frankly a distraction.

  "I have to keep my mind busy while we're doing it, she says." He held my hip with one hand, sliding the other between my breast and bra cup, easing the material down. "She asks me what I like. I say, I really like Fender guitars."