The Secret (Single in Seattle 1)

When I turn to ask a question, I bump right into Vaughn’s firm chest and jump.

“Sorry,” he says and steadies me by resting his hands on my shoulders. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s what happens when you sneak up on someone.”

His lips turn up into that half smile once more. It’s just…dreamy. I wish he’d do it more often. “Didn’t sneak.”

He whispers the words, and then his right hand drifts up to gently brush my cheek, moving down my jaw. He lifts my chin so he can look into my eyes.

“Green,” he says.

“Yes, your eyes are green.”

He smirks. “Your eyes are green.”

I don’t say anything in return, just watch as those green orbs of his travel over my face as if he’s committing every inch of it to memory.

“And you’re touching me,” I whisper, remembering that he’d said he would keep his hands to himself.

“You’re fucking irresistible.” He takes a long, deep breath. Just when I think he’s about to kiss me, when he leans in as if pulled by the same magnetic force that I feel, too, and his eyes drop to my lips, he pulls away. “But you’re right. I’m not touching you.”

“This is silly.” I shake my head and push my hands through my hair as I chuckle. “I’ll just…go.”

“Stay,” he suggests. “You came all this way. Why did you, by the way?”

“Why did I what? Come up here?”

He nods slowly.

“I just… Well, I think—I don’t know.”

“Did you hate it when I kissed you?”

“No.” The answer is immediate and out of my mouth before I can zip my lips shut. “No, I didn’t hate it. Obviously. Because here I am.”

“I didn’t hate it, either.”

Those green eyes of his flash, and something in me feels good because I pleased him.

What in the hell is wrong with me?

I walk to the kitchen to an island the size of Jamaica and drag my fingertip over the cool marble. The room is gorgeous.

“I was so frustrated,” he continues as he slowly follows me as if giving me an opportunity to run.

But my feet are firmly planted. I’m not going anywhere.

“I thought you were being completely unprofessional and wasting my time.” He sweeps a piece of my hair off my cheek. “And then you just stood up for yourself and put me in my place. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.”

He swipes his thumb across my lower lip.

“Not used to that, huh? Being put in your place?”

“No.” He brushes his nose against mine. “I’m not.”

“I’m not a doormat,” I inform him, but my voice isn’t as strong as I’d like it to be because I’m suddenly finding it hard to catch my breath. “And I wasn’t the one in the wrong.”

“I wrote down the wrong day,” he admits. “Sorry about that.”

“Are you always a jerk?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, cut it out.”

That hand of his fists my hair again, the way it did earlier, and it’s a direct line to my nipples, which have puckered as if they wouldn’t mind if he decided to pay them some attention.

Bad nipples.

“I want to fuck you, Olivia. Right here, right now.”

I swallow and watch his lips. Shit, I want him, too. Don’t I? Why else would I be here? Of course, I want him to get me naked and do sexy things to me.

“I haven’t walked out the door,” I remind him, and that’s all the invitation he needs.

That mouth is on mine in a millisecond, initiating a hot, bruising kiss that has me gripping his arms. His hand leaves my hair long enough to whip my top over my head, and then he spins me around, makes quick work of unfastening my bra, and cups his hands to my breasts as his teeth latch onto the flesh of my shoulder.

Thank God for skirts.

That’s all I can think when he pushes me forward and flips up my hem, slipping his fingers under the elastic of my simple blue panties, finding me already wet.

I gasp.

He groans.

“Jesus, you’re soaked. I want hard and fast, so tell me if it’s too much.”

I shake my head, but he tugs on a nipple. “I mean it. Use your words.”

“Just fuck me already.”

Is that me?

I feel him grin against my skin, and then I hear a wrapper tear, and Vaughn pushes inside me.

I gasp again and widen my stance. God, it just feels so damn good.

He fists his hand in my hair at the base of my scalp. Just at the right place, with the right amount of pull.

“You feel damn good,” he says against my ear as he sets a rhythm that has me blind with pleasure.

The marble of the countertop is cool under me, and all I can do is hold on as I push back against him, feeling the tension building within me as I head toward that ultimate climax.