Resist

Vaughn kissed the inside of my thigh and helped me sit forward.

He looked up at me.

“Do you believe me now?”

I nodded. I put my hands around his neck as he picked me up from the counter. “Take me to bed.”

“Are we done with all the questions? Do you have everything you need to know?” His voice was low and breathy.

“No, but I need you to fuck me before I can think again.” I drew his lips to mine.

He stopped in the doorway.

“Three hours, Ell. You have three hours to decide.”

I released his firm bottom lip from my teeth.

“Why three hours?” I searched his eyes.

“Because that’s when we have to fly to the Bahamas to make our connecting flight.”

“Three hours?”

He nodded. “I’ll spend it how you want. I’ll answer a hundred more questions. I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop. I’ll hold you while you sleep. Whatever you want. But know this ... I don’t plan on leaving here without you.”

I swallowed. If he was going to leave and never come back, I had to have this. I had to have him. I needed to memorize what it felt like when our bodies moved together. What it was like when he was inside me.

“Please fuck me,” I whispered.

“Always.”

He carried me to the bed and dropped me in the center. He crawled toward me like a hungry tiger. He shed his boxer briefs in the next stride.

“One taste of you isn’t enough.” He moved closer.

My heart rushed with electricity.

“I want mor

e. So much more of you.”

He kissed my knee and pushed it to the sheet.

“You’re my siren. My drug.” He looked up at me through those long lashes. “My addiction.”

I ran my hands through his hair.

I hadn’t been able to drink him away. I hadn’t been able to erase him. Or forget him. My anger had turned to grief. I had felt rage and pity. Humiliation and disbelief. The last weeks of my life were a maze of alcohol and loneliness. I had held on to the belief that I wasn’t the con. The magic I felt was real. It was tangible and powerful. It wasn’t an illusion or a scam. Everything between Vaughn and me was the kind of fire people dreamed about. Wrote about. We had it. It was here in this bed.

And that’s when I realized I couldn’t let him leave. Ever.

Chapter Thirty

I watched Vaughn get dressed. I loved that he looked good wearing crisp white shirts or T-shirts. The idea slipped in that it helped him in his job. He was a chameleon.

I fluffed my wet hair with a towel. The shower had felt good.

“We need to go over the details,” he announced. He secured his belt.