Dirty (Dive Bar 1)

"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.