“Yeah.”
“What’s that?”
As his eyes burned into hers, he almost didn’t know who he was as he whispered, “You’re mine.”
“Yours? No.”
“Yes, mine,” he growled, nibbling on her lips. “All fucking mine.”
She let out a breath, rolling her eyes. “Well, I mean, okay. But that means you’re mine.”
“Done.”
“Done.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
And as their lips met, they both were smiling, and Vaughn wasn’t sure how he could have ever let fucking San Jose happen.
He sure was an idiot sometimes.
Or most of the time.
Depended on who you asked.
When Brie woke up, her room was completely dark.
Why was she awake?
“Vaughn,” she breathed as she waited for her eyes to adjust. She had almost forgotten that she had fallen asleep on him, but instead of being on her…yes, she was going to say it…“hunky boyfriend,” she was wrapped around a pillow. Her body ached deliciously, and the things they had done would forever be on the highlight reel of her sexual life. She had never in her life been done to the point of exhaustion, but a few hours with Vaughn Johansson, and he had her worn out like she had played sixty minutes of hockey. He was a beast with the mouth of an angel, but she found herself filling with dread when she didn’t see or feel him in the bed.
Had he run off?
She’d kill him if he had.
Kicking off the blankets, she reached for the first piece of clothing she found, which was a way too large button-up dress shirt. She would have thought that would mean he was there, but it was Vaughn, and he lived across the hall. If he were trying to make a quick exit, he wouldn’t need his clothes. Knowing him, he’d gladly walk across the hall in the hopes someone saw his big cock.
With a small smile since she’d had that big guy she was thinking of, she pushed her hair out of her face and up into a bun just as she noticed the light was on under her closed bedroom door. Reaching for it, she pulled it open and relief flooded her. In his boxers, Vaughn was crouched down, the cut of his sexy quads on full display while his abs, which basically had abs of their own, made her mouth water. Then she noticed he was sweeping up the glass from the vase, and her heart exploded.
He looked up as a smirk covered his lips. “Did I wake you?”
She shook her head as she leaned into the door. “No, what time is it?”
“Midnight.”
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
He shrugged as he dumped the contents of the dustpan in the trash. “I couldn’t sleep.”
She eyed him. “Oh.”
“Yeah, so I came to clean and get some food. By the way, I ate half the pizza I sent you.”
She feigned shock. “But I didn’t get a picture of it!”
He winked. “I took one for you before I inhaled it.”
“My hero.” He flashed her a grin as he stood, placing the dustpan on top of the trash can.
Looking over the sexy and mouthwatering body she had all but consumed earlier, she smiled. “You have no tattoos.”
He looked down and shrugged. “Nope.”
“Why? Isn’t that part of the bad boy, badass, playboy hockey player?”
Holding her gaze, he smiled. “Maybe I never was all that.”
She scoffed. “Or you’re afraid of needles.”
He laughed. “Please. I’m a bad boy, badass—”
He looked to her for help. “Playboy hockey player?”
“Yeah, that. Needles don’t scare me.” She gave him a look, and his shoulders fell. “Okay, yes, I’m deathly afraid.”
She giggled as he came to her, taking her in his arms before bending down to touch his lips to hers. Pulling back ever so slightly, he wore an unstoppable grin as he murmured, “You think you know me, Soledad?”
Licking her lips and his since he was so close, she said, “Not all of you, but I know when you’re lying.”
“Whatever. I’m an expert liar.”
“You were shaking in your boots when I walked away.”
“And you probably stayed up crying all night, eating Ben & Jerry’s.” Her eyes widened and he laughed. “I saw the cartons in the trash.”
“Cheater.”
Still chuckling, he rubbed his nose to hers. “Will it make you feel better if I say you’re right?”
Her brows pulled together. “About?”
“That I was shaking in my boots?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it freaked the fuck out of me.”
Her lips tilted. “I needed you to know that I’m too old for all that bullshit. I’m looking for something real and long-term, forever long-term, not just a fuck fest. If we don’t work, that’s one thing. But I’m not wasting my time.”
“I heard you, loud and clear,” he whispered, kissing her nose. “I’m here.”
“I see that.”
Smiling, he said, “And I see my notes made it to the fridge.”
Her face blushed deep red as she nodded, her lips moving against his. “No one, and I mean, no one, has ever done that for me.”
Standing up to his full height, he cupped her face. “Well then, you’ve dated some assholey…cunts?”
“Douches. Lying, assholey douches.”
“Cunt is better.”
“It’s vulgar.”
“It is,” he agreed, then his eyes lit up. “Really, Brie, that flower lady didn’t like me. I’m very charismatic, but she hated me.”
“Oh my, your charm didn’t work?”
“No, not even when I waved money in her face. I tipped her, good, but I swear I was a hoodlum in her eyes.”
She smirked. “Did she shake her fist at you, yelling, ‘You damn hoodlum?’” she asked, mimicking an old lady.
But he didn’t smile. “I don’t think you know how accurate that was.”
Snorting with laughter, she leaned into him. “You’re a dork.”
“Only with you, which is weird. I’m usually very handsome and captivating, alluring, if you will, maybe even—”
“Full of yourself?” she supplied, and he tightened his grip on her.
“What’s that?”
As his eyes burned into hers, he almost didn’t know who he was as he whispered, “You’re mine.”
“Yours? No.”
“Yes, mine,” he growled, nibbling on her lips. “All fucking mine.”
She let out a breath, rolling her eyes. “Well, I mean, okay. But that means you’re mine.”
“Done.”
“Done.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
And as their lips met, they both were smiling, and Vaughn wasn’t sure how he could have ever let fucking San Jose happen.
He sure was an idiot sometimes.
Or most of the time.
Depended on who you asked.
When Brie woke up, her room was completely dark.
Why was she awake?
“Vaughn,” she breathed as she waited for her eyes to adjust. She had almost forgotten that she had fallen asleep on him, but instead of being on her…yes, she was going to say it…“hunky boyfriend,” she was wrapped around a pillow. Her body ached deliciously, and the things they had done would forever be on the highlight reel of her sexual life. She had never in her life been done to the point of exhaustion, but a few hours with Vaughn Johansson, and he had her worn out like she had played sixty minutes of hockey. He was a beast with the mouth of an angel, but she found herself filling with dread when she didn’t see or feel him in the bed.
Had he run off?
She’d kill him if he had.
Kicking off the blankets, she reached for the first piece of clothing she found, which was a way too large button-up dress shirt. She would have thought that would mean he was there, but it was Vaughn, and he lived across the hall. If he were trying to make a quick exit, he wouldn’t need his clothes. Knowing him, he’d gladly walk across the hall in the hopes someone saw his big cock.
With a small smile since she’d had that big guy she was thinking of, she pushed her hair out of her face and up into a bun just as she noticed the light was on under her closed bedroom door. Reaching for it, she pulled it open and relief flooded her. In his boxers, Vaughn was crouched down, the cut of his sexy quads on full display while his abs, which basically had abs of their own, made her mouth water. Then she noticed he was sweeping up the glass from the vase, and her heart exploded.
He looked up as a smirk covered his lips. “Did I wake you?”
She shook her head as she leaned into the door. “No, what time is it?”
“Midnight.”
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
He shrugged as he dumped the contents of the dustpan in the trash. “I couldn’t sleep.”
She eyed him. “Oh.”
“Yeah, so I came to clean and get some food. By the way, I ate half the pizza I sent you.”
She feigned shock. “But I didn’t get a picture of it!”
He winked. “I took one for you before I inhaled it.”
“My hero.” He flashed her a grin as he stood, placing the dustpan on top of the trash can.
Looking over the sexy and mouthwatering body she had all but consumed earlier, she smiled. “You have no tattoos.”
He looked down and shrugged. “Nope.”
“Why? Isn’t that part of the bad boy, badass, playboy hockey player?”
Holding her gaze, he smiled. “Maybe I never was all that.”
She scoffed. “Or you’re afraid of needles.”
He laughed. “Please. I’m a bad boy, badass—”
He looked to her for help. “Playboy hockey player?”
“Yeah, that. Needles don’t scare me.” She gave him a look, and his shoulders fell. “Okay, yes, I’m deathly afraid.”
She giggled as he came to her, taking her in his arms before bending down to touch his lips to hers. Pulling back ever so slightly, he wore an unstoppable grin as he murmured, “You think you know me, Soledad?”
Licking her lips and his since he was so close, she said, “Not all of you, but I know when you’re lying.”
“Whatever. I’m an expert liar.”
“You were shaking in your boots when I walked away.”
“And you probably stayed up crying all night, eating Ben & Jerry’s.” Her eyes widened and he laughed. “I saw the cartons in the trash.”
“Cheater.”
Still chuckling, he rubbed his nose to hers. “Will it make you feel better if I say you’re right?”
Her brows pulled together. “About?”
“That I was shaking in my boots?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it freaked the fuck out of me.”
Her lips tilted. “I needed you to know that I’m too old for all that bullshit. I’m looking for something real and long-term, forever long-term, not just a fuck fest. If we don’t work, that’s one thing. But I’m not wasting my time.”
“I heard you, loud and clear,” he whispered, kissing her nose. “I’m here.”
“I see that.”
Smiling, he said, “And I see my notes made it to the fridge.”
Her face blushed deep red as she nodded, her lips moving against his. “No one, and I mean, no one, has ever done that for me.”
Standing up to his full height, he cupped her face. “Well then, you’ve dated some assholey…cunts?”
“Douches. Lying, assholey douches.”
“Cunt is better.”
“It’s vulgar.”
“It is,” he agreed, then his eyes lit up. “Really, Brie, that flower lady didn’t like me. I’m very charismatic, but she hated me.”
“Oh my, your charm didn’t work?”
“No, not even when I waved money in her face. I tipped her, good, but I swear I was a hoodlum in her eyes.”
She smirked. “Did she shake her fist at you, yelling, ‘You damn hoodlum?’” she asked, mimicking an old lady.
But he didn’t smile. “I don’t think you know how accurate that was.”
Snorting with laughter, she leaned into him. “You’re a dork.”
“Only with you, which is weird. I’m usually very handsome and captivating, alluring, if you will, maybe even—”
“Full of yourself?” she supplied, and he tightened his grip on her.
