to call home to ask my parents if it’s okay if I spend the night at a boy’s house, I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.” I bat my eyelashes and offer him a coy smile.
He lifts his eyebrows and grants me a smile. “Where were girls like you when I was a teenager with an empty house for weeks on end?” he teases.
“I shudder to think of the trouble you got yourself into.”
“You have no idea,” he says with a shake of his head and a knowing chuckle. I picture him as a teenager. No doubt handsome, definitely privileged, and most likely lonely. He probably lost himself in girls and sports and pushed everyone away or held them way too close.
I watch the man he is now from my seat on the edge of his massive bed as he pulls the henley over his head and tosses it into the hamper. His broad shoulders and the defined muscles of his back are on display. His trim waist leads down to his very fine ass, perfectly framed by the denim covering it.
He’s gorgeous in so many ways it hurts to think about it.
“At some point, we need to talk about the senator, Vaughn.” He turns to look at me again, the playful smile from moments ago replaced with a measured intensity.
“No.”
“We do. We need to figure out how to deal with him so you can stop worrying.”
“Please, not now.” I force a smile to my lips despite the anxiety the mention of Carter Preston brings to me. “Please don’t ruin the night . . . morning . . . whatever this was.”
“It’s a date.”
“Yes. Our date. Everything about it was perfect. I just . . .” I look out the window as I try to find the words to explain what I need to say, suddenly shy from his unwavering attention. “I just need to be Vaughn right now. The sad little girl and confused twentysomething like I was before I had to be Vee. I need you to like Vaughn, to be okay with her and everything that comes with her . . . because that’s who I really am.”
“Hey.” I don’t turn to look his way as he steps beside me. “Vaughn?” The dip of the bed. The feel of his finger moving my chin so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “While ball-busting Vee intrigues the hell out of me, it’s you I always see, Vaughn. Just you.”
He leans in and kisses me. The reassurance I find in this most intimate of acts is almost unnerving. The need to want him to give me the assurance even more so. My hands slide up the firm planes of his chest, then up over his shoulders before sliding down his back and then dipping below his waistband.
“Uh-uh,” he warns with a chuckle as his hands lock over my wrists and prevent me from grabbing what is within inches of my reach before he abruptly stands from the bed.
My lips still tingling from his kiss, I look at him like he’s crazy. “What do you mean, uh-uh?” I ask. “I thought you were thrilled that my parents were out of town so you could lure me to your house with promises of a big party. And then I’d pretend to be shocked when I arrived to find no party, just an empty house with you drenched in cologne asking me if I wanted to see your big, cozy bed.”
“Jesus,” he says through a laugh. “I’d love to see what else that imagination of yours thinks up”—he adjusts his grip on my wrists when I try to show him—“but not right now.”
Something I’m not quite used to hits harshly: rejection.
My face must show it because his smile widens and he shakes his head ever so slightly as he meets my eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to take things slow with you.”
“What?” I all but laugh the word out.
“The first time we met face-to-face, it ended with my fingers slick in your pussy.” He quirks a brow as his smile turns suggestive. “And while I’m all for that—man, am I all for that—I think we started off on the wrong foot. We started off expecting sex and then nothing more.”
“And now you’re expecting . . . ?”
I can see him mentally chastising himself for turning down sex. It’s in the way he shifts to readjust his raging hard-on. In the way he takes in a deep breath and looks