The Secret (Single in Seattle 1)

If it had been the other way around, I might have ripped a bitch’s hair out of her head as I pulled her off Vaughn.

I sit behind my desk and start making plans to make it up to him.

Vaughn’s car is already at my house when I pull up, which doesn’t surprise me because I’m about fifteen minutes later than I thought I’d be.

But, hopefully, he’ll forgive my tardiness.

I walk into the house and find Vaughn chatting with Erin in the living room.

“Sorry I’m late,” I announce as I walk in, holding the flowers I bought for him. “But I had to swing by and get these for you.”

Vaughn’s eyebrow wings up. “For me?”

“Yes.” I pass him the pink and red roses with a smile. “If I learned nothing else from my father, it’s that when you’ve fucked up, you buy flowers. I hope you like roses.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever given me flowers before,” he says with a half smile. “Thanks. Erin, if you’ll excuse us?”

“Sure,” Erin says with a knowing smile. “I think I’ll go…somewhere.”

I laugh as Vaughn slings me over his shoulder and smacks my ass, then hauls me—and the flowers—up the stairs to my bedroom.

I wave at Erin as he climbs, and then I laugh some more when he tosses me onto the bed.

“I guess this means you forgive me?” I ask as Vaughn very carefully chooses a flower from the bouquet before gently setting the rest on my vanity.

“After I had time to think about it,” he says softly, staring down at the pink rose, “I realized that you hadn’t done anything wrong. It just looked really bad at the time.”

I cringe. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

Vaughn sets the rose on the pillow next to me and gets to work taking my clothes off. He’s always so thorough when he undresses me, which only intensifies the lust. The air practically hums with electricity by the time he lowers my panties down my legs and then throws them over his shoulder.

“You undo me,” he says softly and reaches for the rose. “You’re so fucking beautiful it steals my breath every damn time. And the pink on this rose matches your nipples and pussy perfectly.”

“Oh, that wasn’t on purpose.”

He grins as he drags the bloom down my chest and over my breasts.

“I know. What a fun coincidence.” The rose journeys down my stomach, over my belly button, and lower still to my pubis. “Spread your legs, baby.”

I couldn’t say no if I wanted to. And I definitely don’t want to.

I part my legs and sigh when he pulls those petals over my lips, up over my clit, and then replaces the flower with his mouth. My hips buck up off the bed.

He’s merciless in how his mouth moves over me, and when his fingers join the party, I cry out.

“Oh, my God!”

“Go over,” he commands as his fingers work some kind of magic, and I do exactly as he asks. I fall over the waterfall of overwhelming need and into a pool of satisfaction so deep, I feel as though I might drown.

“Mine,” he says as he hurries to push his jeans down his hips, and then he’s thrusting into me, hard and fast. “Mine, Olivia.”

“Yours,” I agree breathlessly, overcome with need and love for this man that I feel as though I hardly know—and yet almost as if I’ve known him forever. It’s as though he’s a part of me now, and I can’t imagine living my life without him in it.

He pushes me over one more crest and follows, growling my name as he comes.

“Holy hell,” I whisper, catching my breath. “That was fun. I should buy flowers more often.”

Vaughn chuckles and pushes up so he can smile down at me. “That might have been the best make-up sex in the history of make-up sex.”

“I agree. And now, I’m really hungry.”

“Me, too.” But he doesn’t pull away. He brushes his hands through my hair and kisses me, soft and slow, like an old-fashioned love song.

And when he does finally pull away, he drags his hand down my torso from my neck to my stomach.

“Mine,” he says once more. “Let’s eat.”

Chapter 15

~Vaughn~

“For fuck’s sake, Liv, why do you want me incarcerated?”

Liv laughs at my reaction to the dress she’s wearing—at least, I think that’s what it is. It’s shimmery silver with long sleeves and a high neckline, but the hem ends just below her ass.

“If you bend over, or if there’s a strong breeze, you’ll be arrested for indecent exposure.”

She fastens her earrings and watches me in the mirror with a satisfied grin on her plump lips, which she happens to have painted red.

Not pink.

Red. Bold red.

“I’ll be fine,” she says. “And don’t worry, my boots cover most of my legs.”

My mouth goes dry when she steps into boots that match her dress perfectly and zips them all the way to about three inches above her knees.