Every Little Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 2)

Bailey

“What are you doing?” Vaughn asked, the words soft. Tender.

“Staring at you.”

When he’d come home early from the hotel, he had sat down on the black leather couch I was intending to get rid of as soon as I got into redecorating mode. He usually worked a little later than this—we both did—but Jess and Cooper were home from their honeymoon and we were heading over to the bar to hang out with them.

First, upon returning home, Vaughn had changed into something casual—although casual to him still consisted of a ridiculously expensive designer sweater that fit him far too well and a pair of designer dress pants that also fit him far too well. I was still getting ready, so he had wandered d

ownstairs, where I found him sitting having a coffee on the couch. I had immediately crawled onto his lap. Just because.

“You’ve been staring at me awhile.”

“You’ve been staring back.”

He grinned. “It’s a great view.”

I smiled. “That’s why I’m staring, too.”

Vaughn huffed.

I’d come to realize over the last few weeks that my fiancé—yes, fiancé!—was uncomfortable with compliments. It was adorable.

“I love your eyes,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t lower them,” I admonished, and he looked back up at me. I spotted a hint of annoyance in them and chuckled. “I still remember the first time we met. I couldn’t stop looking at your eyes. They are the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Bailey . . .”

“Do you know what I like best about them?”

He squeezed my waist again in answer.

“I like how cool they are with the majority of people. When you’re talking to your staff or your guests you don’t give away anything with those eyes. So focused, businesslike. And when you used to look at me, they were cold, hard, unflinching. Resentful.” He opened his mouth to argue and I shushed him. “The first time I saw them change was one night at Coop’s and he made you laugh. I’d never seen you laugh. And I saw then that you liked him. You respected him. It made it worse to know that you could look at someone like that, but it would never be me. Imagine my surprise then that first night we were together . . . that’s the first time you looked at me and . . . You were worried about me.

“That’s what made me want you.” I brushed my fingers across his cheek, finding that I wanted to touch him all the time. “Your eyes. I love that I’m one of the few people in the world that gets to see how beautiful they really are when you care about someone.”

“What are you trying to do to me?” he whispered, sliding his hands under my top.

“I just want you to know that as beautiful as you are—in a masculine way.” I hurried to assure him at his scowl. “That’s not what I love about you. It’s not even what turns me on. Although it helps, not going to lie. But it’s you. Just you. And how you feel about me.”

He shifted his hips up, his erection pressing into my ass. “Have we got time?”

I glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. Not really. I looked back at him. “If we’re really, really quick.”

I squealed as he threw me onto the couch on my stomach. The heat of his body covered mine. “Quick and dirty?” he murmured in my ear as he slid his hand under my dress and caressed my ass.

Lust fluttered low in my belly. I nodded, breathless with anticipation.

“Hands and knees, princess,” Vaughn demanded.

Following his instructions, my arms wobbled a little with tremors of excitement. The sound of him lowering the zip on his trousers sent white-hot arousal through me. My nipples peaked against my bra.

“Vaughn,” I whispered hoarsely as he pushed my dress up to my waist and peeled my underwear down my legs to the bend in my knees.

His words were like gravel as he caressed my naked ass. “I’ve dreamt about this. You. On your knees. On this couch. That ring on your finger.” He leaned over me, sliding his hands down and around my ribs to caress my breasts. His warm breath whispered over my ear. “Reality kicks my fantasy’s ass.”