The Secret (Single in Seattle 1)

“That’s it,” he says and drags a hand down my spine to my ass. “Give in to it, babe. Go over.”

His voice is pure sex. His hands on me are everything I never knew I needed from a man. And when he pushes back in, hard, I come apart.

“Yes,” he growls, then pushes and grinds into me as he surrenders to his own orgasm.

He kisses my shoulder, my neck.

And then he slips out of me and pads around the island to dispose of the condom.

He didn’t even take my underwear off.

I don’t know why, but that’s damn hot.

I take a deep breath and reach for my shirt, slipping it over my head. When I glance over at Vaughn, he’s grinning and passes me a bottle of water. His pants are still undone, but he’s tucked himself away, and he looks pleased with himself.

“Stay,” he says simply. “I’ll order in dinner, and we can just hang.”

Tempting. It’s more tempting than I thought it would be.

But I shake my head and take a drink of the water. “I can’t. I have a lot of work to catch up on now.”

“I’m not sorry,” he says simply.

“Me, neither.” I grin at him.

“Excellent sex is nothing to be sorry about.”

I tip my head and study him, then just laugh and turn away. “You really are a cocky shit, you know that?”

“Don’t even try to tell me that wasn’t excellent sex.”

It was maybe the hottest sex I’ve ever had.

“It didn’t suck,” I reply instead and walk to the front door. “I’ll be in touch when I need you to come to the office for a fitting.”

“I want to see you again.” He leans on the doorjamb and pulls on my hand, yanking me against him. His lips are a mere inch from mine. “Outside of the office.”

“Not a great idea.”

“Best idea I’ve ever had.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I don’t think seeing each other is going to work. I know you’re not used to hearing no. But you might just have to learn to deal with it.”

“It’s okay, I’ll talk you into it.” He kisses me once more, long and slow, and then I pull away before I say screw it and stay for the evening.

I wave, get in my car, and drive away.

In the rearview mirror, I see Vaughn standing in the doorway, watching me.

What in the hell just happened? I had sex—hot kitchen sex—with Vaughn Barrymore. What was I thinking? Have I lost my damn mind? Did I fall and hit my head, and now I’ve had a complete personality switch?

Instead of going back to the office, I head toward home. I want a shower and some food, and I can work on some things from my home office if I really want to.

I’m surprised to see that Stella’s Range Rover is in the driveway when I pull in.

I walk inside and find her in the living room, her laptop in front of her, glasses perched on her gorgeous nose.

“You’re home early,” she says.

“So are you.”

“I had a client in the neighborhood and decided to come here to work rather than driving back downtown.”

She pulls her glasses off and narrows her eyes at me. “Who did you have sex with?”

“What?” I scoff as if she’s completely off base. “I just came home early, that’s all.”

“Nope. You have that look you get when you’ve gotten laid. I know you better than anyone, and I know the signs. Spill it.”

I shake my head, and she stands, setting her hands on her hips. “Olivia Williams, spill the tea.”

“I can’t tell you.” I bite my lip, struggling. Stella is my best friend. She knows everything about everything.

But this? This could be very bad.

“We’re the only ones here,” she says. “I’m quite sure your parents haven’t bugged the place, so you’re safe. Seriously, Livie, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”

“You can’t even tell Drew or Erin.”

Stella’s eyes darken with worry. “Now, you’re scaring me. Were you forced? Did someone hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that. No.” I shake my head, walk over to her, and then whisper in her ear, “I had sex with Vaughn Barrymore.”

She blinks twice and then stares at me. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

“Your dad will kill you,” she says, whispering.

“I know. Which is why you can’t tell anyone.”

“If you’re dating Vaughn—”

“Dating? Who said anything about dating? I just went to his house, and we fucked on the kitchen island. I’m not dating him.”

Both of her eyebrows wing up in surprise, and then she laughs.

“Was the sex that bad? I mean, it’s surprising, but I guess being super-famous doesn’t automatically make a guy good in bed. Did you see the dimples on his ass? Are they real?”

“I didn’t see his ass,” I admit. “And, no, it didn’t suck. It was pretty damn good, actually.”

“I thought you didn’t like him. How did this even happen? You’d better start at the beginning.”