Wardrobe Malfunction
Page 17
“Okay. Well, I’m just next door if you need me.”
I hear the door shut, signaling that Alex has left, and then it’s just Vaughn and me, alone.
Vaughn
Maybe I should have had Alex stay. Not because I fear for my safety, but because I have the strong urge to fuck her.
I spent most of last night trying not to think about her.
And having her here isn’t helping anything. Arguing with her is like the best kind of foreplay ever.
Fuck, is she hot, and that mouth of hers…that fucking smart-ass, sexy mouth of hers that I would love to see wrapped around my cock.
But, nope, not gonna do it.
I’m just here for this movie. No fucking around.
I promised Jack and myself.
“So, we’re doing this?” My voice comes out sounding sharper than I intended.
“Yep. Put this on for me, please,” she says, holding out a crisp white shirt.
I take the shirt from her. “Should I put some music on? I know how you like to twerk before you work.” I snort at my own rhyme. I’m such a fucking loser. “I don’t have any of Madonna’s early stuff, but I think I have ‘Vogue’ on my phone. I’m pretty sure I remember the dance routine as well, if you want me to join in?”
She stares at me for a moment, and then laughter bursts from her. The sound is like sunshine. If sunshine had a sound.
“You’re such a tool.” She laughs again. “Just put the damn shirt on, so we can get this over with.”
A big grin on my face, I peel my tank off and put the shirt on, buttoning it up.
I notice she doesn’t once look at me. She busies herself with her sewing stuff at the dining table.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Yep.”
When she turns to me, she has that damn pincushion on her wrist again, and I swear to God, my balls shrink in on themselves.
“Do you have to use pins? They’re making my balls twitch.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Afraid so. But don’t worry; I won’t get you again.” She steps closer, and I get a whiff of raspberries and vanilla, like I smelled yesterday. “I promise.”
I stare down into her eyes. They’re blue. Dark. Like the color of blueberries.
“I’ll put my hand inside the fabric to protect your skin. I could have done that yesterday, but it didn’t seem appropriate to put my hand down your pants the first day I met you.”
I wouldn’t have minded. “That sounds like a bad pick-up line I’ve used in the past.”
She laughs again. It’s throatier this time. Sexy. And I decide that, from now on, I want to make her laugh all the time.
“Looking at this, I just need to hem the sides a little. I’m just going to put my hand up your shirt—”
“I bet you say that to all the boys.”
“Only to the pretty ones.” She smiles, glancing up at me through her lashes.
God, I want to fuck her so bad.
She slips her hand under the shirt. Her hand is cool against my heated skin. I suck in a breath.
“Sorry. Are my hands cold? I should’ve warmed them up first.”
Down my pants? Of course you can, sweetheart. “No, they’re fine. You’re fine.”
I grit my teeth and stare over her head at the wall. I force myself to think about my mother and my grandma, basically anything but the feel of her touching me.
In no time, she’s done and moving over to the other side of the shirt. Her hand brushes over my abdomen. She stills. “Sorry,” she says, her cheeks turning pink.
“Don’t be. So far, you’ve nailed me in the balls, seen me in only my boxer shorts, and made a cock warmer for me. What difference is a little ab-groping going to make?”
She shakes her head, laughing. “And people say I’m odd.”
“I prefer the term unconventional.”
Her eyes flash up to mine, surprise filling them.
“What?” I ask her.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, her eyes clearing. “Okay, you’re done.” She steps back. “I just need to measure up the vest and jacket. I can size the rest from those. You need me to help you take that off?”
I don’t, but I just want her close again. “Sure.”
She steps up and starts to undo the buttons.
“I meant to thank you for keeping what happened to yourself,” I say.
She glances up at me, a coy look in her eyes, as she continues undoing the buttons. “How do you know I didn’t tell anyone?”
“Because I haven’t read about it today.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly about to broadcast that I nailed Vaughn West in the balls.”
“You nailed me, huh?” I grin, and she blushes.
I like making her blush.
“You know what I mean,” she chastises gently.
“Yeah, well, I appreciate you not saying anything. You’d be surprised by what people are willing to tell to earn a fast buck. You could have made yourself ten grand with that story.”
“Ten grand? Shit, is it too late to change my mind?” She gives me a teasing grin. Then, her expression changes. “It sucks that you can’t trust people though.”
“Yeah, but I think that’s the same for most. I trust my family, Alex, and Jack, who’s my manager. And…right now, I trust you.”
Her eyes soften on me.
I want to kiss her so fucking bad in this moment. I can’t remember wanting to kiss a woman more.
I hear the door shut, signaling that Alex has left, and then it’s just Vaughn and me, alone.
Vaughn
Maybe I should have had Alex stay. Not because I fear for my safety, but because I have the strong urge to fuck her.
I spent most of last night trying not to think about her.
And having her here isn’t helping anything. Arguing with her is like the best kind of foreplay ever.
Fuck, is she hot, and that mouth of hers…that fucking smart-ass, sexy mouth of hers that I would love to see wrapped around my cock.
But, nope, not gonna do it.
I’m just here for this movie. No fucking around.
I promised Jack and myself.
“So, we’re doing this?” My voice comes out sounding sharper than I intended.
“Yep. Put this on for me, please,” she says, holding out a crisp white shirt.
I take the shirt from her. “Should I put some music on? I know how you like to twerk before you work.” I snort at my own rhyme. I’m such a fucking loser. “I don’t have any of Madonna’s early stuff, but I think I have ‘Vogue’ on my phone. I’m pretty sure I remember the dance routine as well, if you want me to join in?”
She stares at me for a moment, and then laughter bursts from her. The sound is like sunshine. If sunshine had a sound.
“You’re such a tool.” She laughs again. “Just put the damn shirt on, so we can get this over with.”
A big grin on my face, I peel my tank off and put the shirt on, buttoning it up.
I notice she doesn’t once look at me. She busies herself with her sewing stuff at the dining table.
“Ready?” she asks.
“Yep.”
When she turns to me, she has that damn pincushion on her wrist again, and I swear to God, my balls shrink in on themselves.
“Do you have to use pins? They’re making my balls twitch.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Afraid so. But don’t worry; I won’t get you again.” She steps closer, and I get a whiff of raspberries and vanilla, like I smelled yesterday. “I promise.”
I stare down into her eyes. They’re blue. Dark. Like the color of blueberries.
“I’ll put my hand inside the fabric to protect your skin. I could have done that yesterday, but it didn’t seem appropriate to put my hand down your pants the first day I met you.”
I wouldn’t have minded. “That sounds like a bad pick-up line I’ve used in the past.”
She laughs again. It’s throatier this time. Sexy. And I decide that, from now on, I want to make her laugh all the time.
“Looking at this, I just need to hem the sides a little. I’m just going to put my hand up your shirt—”
“I bet you say that to all the boys.”
“Only to the pretty ones.” She smiles, glancing up at me through her lashes.
God, I want to fuck her so bad.
She slips her hand under the shirt. Her hand is cool against my heated skin. I suck in a breath.
“Sorry. Are my hands cold? I should’ve warmed them up first.”
Down my pants? Of course you can, sweetheart. “No, they’re fine. You’re fine.”
I grit my teeth and stare over her head at the wall. I force myself to think about my mother and my grandma, basically anything but the feel of her touching me.
In no time, she’s done and moving over to the other side of the shirt. Her hand brushes over my abdomen. She stills. “Sorry,” she says, her cheeks turning pink.
“Don’t be. So far, you’ve nailed me in the balls, seen me in only my boxer shorts, and made a cock warmer for me. What difference is a little ab-groping going to make?”
She shakes her head, laughing. “And people say I’m odd.”
“I prefer the term unconventional.”
Her eyes flash up to mine, surprise filling them.
“What?” I ask her.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, her eyes clearing. “Okay, you’re done.” She steps back. “I just need to measure up the vest and jacket. I can size the rest from those. You need me to help you take that off?”
I don’t, but I just want her close again. “Sure.”
She steps up and starts to undo the buttons.
“I meant to thank you for keeping what happened to yourself,” I say.
She glances up at me, a coy look in her eyes, as she continues undoing the buttons. “How do you know I didn’t tell anyone?”
“Because I haven’t read about it today.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly about to broadcast that I nailed Vaughn West in the balls.”
“You nailed me, huh?” I grin, and she blushes.
I like making her blush.
“You know what I mean,” she chastises gently.
“Yeah, well, I appreciate you not saying anything. You’d be surprised by what people are willing to tell to earn a fast buck. You could have made yourself ten grand with that story.”
“Ten grand? Shit, is it too late to change my mind?” She gives me a teasing grin. Then, her expression changes. “It sucks that you can’t trust people though.”
“Yeah, but I think that’s the same for most. I trust my family, Alex, and Jack, who’s my manager. And…right now, I trust you.”
Her eyes soften on me.
I want to kiss her so fucking bad in this moment. I can’t remember wanting to kiss a woman more.
