Every Little Thing
Page 96
And then I began to ride him, so close to coming I lost control, riding him hard, needing the delicious satisfaction I only ever found with him.
“Fuck!” he bit out, his hands squeezing my breasts as I went wild on him.
And then I hit the top, stiffened on the cliff edge, and launched over, crying out his name. I shuddered and pulsed around his cock and his thumbs dragged over my nipples as he tensed beneath me. Seconds later his cock swelled and throbbed inside me, and as I came down from my own orgasm I felt the wet of his release.
Holy hell.
I collapsed against him, completely ruined in the best way possible.
Almost purring, I snuggled into him as he held me close, caressing my back in this soothing, tender way that, combined with the aftershocks of that outrageous orgasm, made me want to cry.
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” Vaughn teased, sounding content.
I snuggled closer to him. “More. So much more, Tremaine.”
He chuckled and hugged me. “I should get you back home.”
“In a minute. This feels too nice to end it just yet.”
“There will be more times like this in the future.”
“I know. But this is the first time. I want to be able to remember every second of it.”
Vaughn was quiet a moment as he stroked my back, and then . . . “I love you.”
Fear penetrated the loveliness of the moment.
I pulled back to face him. He stared up at me and, sure enough, that look in his eyes, that soulful, smoldering look, was filled with the kind of love no man had ever looked at me with.
And it terrified me.
Unable to give him the answer he wanted, I kissed him. I kissed him with everything I was willing to give and had to hope that for now it was enough.
TWENTY-SIX
Vaughn
After a night like the one he’d just had Vaughn should have been feeling relaxed, satisfied, and more than content with his lot in life. However, the next day as Graham talked at him about introducing a custom object relating to the state of Delaware to use as an eco reuse-your-linen card instead of the actual card or something . . . Vaughn had to admit he was only half listening.
Bailey still hadn’t said she loved him.
He’d said it to her a number of times now and still no reciprocation.
Vaughn knew he should be patient. Although it felt like they’d been together a long time it was technically just over two weeks.
But . . . the problem was that intuition of his told him that Bailey Hartwell was falling in love with him. No woman had ever looked at him the way Bailey had last night as he dropped her off at home.
Like she loved him.
And just when he thought she was going to say it, she bit her lip and walked away.
Which meant she didn’t trust him enough to tell him.
Fuck.
Patience, Tremaine, patience.
“I think it’s those little details that matter. Instead of just a card that the guest can place on the bed when they don’t want their linens changed, we could put like a ceramic blue hen or . . . we could have Dahlia McGuire, the silversmith at the gift shop, custom-make something that guests can put on the linens instead. What do you think, sir? Mr. Tremaine?”
Vaughn stared through Graham, forcing himself to focus and let his brain play catch-up. “I like it,” he said. “Talk to Miss McGuire. Get her to draw up some designs.”
Once Graham left his office, Vaughn rested his head on his chair and picked up his phone. He opened his messages to Bailey, his fingers hovering over the buttons. How much time should he give her before he had to raise this as an issue? He couldn’t go through with marrying Camille because she didn’t trust him.
He definitely couldn’t see his relationship with Bailey going where he wanted it to go if she didn’t trust him. Yet, he was itching to have her. For good.
The idea of her not believing in him, believing that he would hurt her, scared the shit out of him. It had taken him forever to start believing he loved her enough to overcome his fears; to believe in himself when it came to protecting her and making her happy.
Her distrust was fucking all that up.
They should talk.
The phone jumped in vibration in his hand, causing him to jump.
Dad Calling.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Vaughn said in lieu of hello.
“How did I manage that?” William sounded amused.
“I had the phone in my hand about to make a call.”
“Let me guess. To a certain redhead?”
“Maybe.”
His dad chuckled. “I was just calling to check in. It’s been two weeks since you two decided to pull your heads out of your ass.”
Rolling his eyes, Vaughn sighed. “You’re not expecting weekly updates, are you?”
“While it’s new, yes. I want to make sure you don’t fuck it up.”
“Nice. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Okay. Something’s up. I can hear it in your voice.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Vaughn.”
He sighed, knowing his father would just hound him until he told him. “She . . . she hasn’t said she loves me back yet. I think I know that she does but it’s like she still doesn’t trust me yet. Should I be worried?”
“Son, it’s been a couple of weeks. Give the poor girl a chance.”
For some reason his dad’s matter-of-fact response soothed him. He laughed at himself. “You’re right. Jesus. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
“Fuck!” he bit out, his hands squeezing my breasts as I went wild on him.
And then I hit the top, stiffened on the cliff edge, and launched over, crying out his name. I shuddered and pulsed around his cock and his thumbs dragged over my nipples as he tensed beneath me. Seconds later his cock swelled and throbbed inside me, and as I came down from my own orgasm I felt the wet of his release.
Holy hell.
I collapsed against him, completely ruined in the best way possible.
Almost purring, I snuggled into him as he held me close, caressing my back in this soothing, tender way that, combined with the aftershocks of that outrageous orgasm, made me want to cry.
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” Vaughn teased, sounding content.
I snuggled closer to him. “More. So much more, Tremaine.”
He chuckled and hugged me. “I should get you back home.”
“In a minute. This feels too nice to end it just yet.”
“There will be more times like this in the future.”
“I know. But this is the first time. I want to be able to remember every second of it.”
Vaughn was quiet a moment as he stroked my back, and then . . . “I love you.”
Fear penetrated the loveliness of the moment.
I pulled back to face him. He stared up at me and, sure enough, that look in his eyes, that soulful, smoldering look, was filled with the kind of love no man had ever looked at me with.
And it terrified me.
Unable to give him the answer he wanted, I kissed him. I kissed him with everything I was willing to give and had to hope that for now it was enough.
TWENTY-SIX
Vaughn
After a night like the one he’d just had Vaughn should have been feeling relaxed, satisfied, and more than content with his lot in life. However, the next day as Graham talked at him about introducing a custom object relating to the state of Delaware to use as an eco reuse-your-linen card instead of the actual card or something . . . Vaughn had to admit he was only half listening.
Bailey still hadn’t said she loved him.
He’d said it to her a number of times now and still no reciprocation.
Vaughn knew he should be patient. Although it felt like they’d been together a long time it was technically just over two weeks.
But . . . the problem was that intuition of his told him that Bailey Hartwell was falling in love with him. No woman had ever looked at him the way Bailey had last night as he dropped her off at home.
Like she loved him.
And just when he thought she was going to say it, she bit her lip and walked away.
Which meant she didn’t trust him enough to tell him.
Fuck.
Patience, Tremaine, patience.
“I think it’s those little details that matter. Instead of just a card that the guest can place on the bed when they don’t want their linens changed, we could put like a ceramic blue hen or . . . we could have Dahlia McGuire, the silversmith at the gift shop, custom-make something that guests can put on the linens instead. What do you think, sir? Mr. Tremaine?”
Vaughn stared through Graham, forcing himself to focus and let his brain play catch-up. “I like it,” he said. “Talk to Miss McGuire. Get her to draw up some designs.”
Once Graham left his office, Vaughn rested his head on his chair and picked up his phone. He opened his messages to Bailey, his fingers hovering over the buttons. How much time should he give her before he had to raise this as an issue? He couldn’t go through with marrying Camille because she didn’t trust him.
He definitely couldn’t see his relationship with Bailey going where he wanted it to go if she didn’t trust him. Yet, he was itching to have her. For good.
The idea of her not believing in him, believing that he would hurt her, scared the shit out of him. It had taken him forever to start believing he loved her enough to overcome his fears; to believe in himself when it came to protecting her and making her happy.
Her distrust was fucking all that up.
They should talk.
The phone jumped in vibration in his hand, causing him to jump.
Dad Calling.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Vaughn said in lieu of hello.
“How did I manage that?” William sounded amused.
“I had the phone in my hand about to make a call.”
“Let me guess. To a certain redhead?”
“Maybe.”
His dad chuckled. “I was just calling to check in. It’s been two weeks since you two decided to pull your heads out of your ass.”
Rolling his eyes, Vaughn sighed. “You’re not expecting weekly updates, are you?”
“While it’s new, yes. I want to make sure you don’t fuck it up.”
“Nice. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Okay. Something’s up. I can hear it in your voice.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Vaughn.”
He sighed, knowing his father would just hound him until he told him. “She . . . she hasn’t said she loves me back yet. I think I know that she does but it’s like she still doesn’t trust me yet. Should I be worried?”
“Son, it’s been a couple of weeks. Give the poor girl a chance.”
For some reason his dad’s matter-of-fact response soothed him. He laughed at himself. “You’re right. Jesus. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”
