Every Little Thing
Page 37

The man I thought I might have been waiting for my whole life.
All this time he’d been standing right in front of me, wearing a suit and a sexy-ass smirk.
ELEVEN
Vaughn
He could blame it on nature, say he was just a man, and no man would have been able to resist Bailey Hartwell when she got it in her head to seduce him.
But that kind of reasoning would make him more of an asshole than he already was.
She’d fallen asleep with his dick still inside of her.
He muffled the curse of arousal that hovered on his lips as he stared at her, his overeager erection straining toward her body for more. When he realized she’d dropped off into sleep he’d gently eased out of her and rolled her onto her side. She’d snuggled into him before he could get away, and damn but he wanted just a little more time to enjoy the fact that finally the redhead in his arms was the one he’d wanted there all along.
Her beautiful auburn curls spilled out on his arm, tickling his skin. So soft.
Everything about her was. Her skin, her eyes, even her heart.
He recognized the moment she’d decided to save him. The moment he became another Jessica, another Dahlia.
Sure, he went beyond that since she wanted to fuck him, too, but more than that she wanted to soothe his wounded soul.
And she thought sex would lower his defenses.
She was right.
It had.
Vaughn couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so lost in a woman. He felt this unsettling hum beneath his skin. This urgency. This desperation to claim Bailey Hartwell as his own like he really was a prehistoric caveman.
He could blame her.
He could blame the moment she’d said, “I bet you’ve thought about it. Fucking the hostile Princess of the Boardwalk into submission.”
Perceptive of her. Hot as fuck.
Bailey Hartwell liked a little dirt in bed.
No lily-white princess.
Loyal. Fierce. Protective. Kind. Strong. Funny. Sassy. Sexy. And goddamn perfect for him in bed.
Vaughn stared at her beautiful face, at her swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and he wished she would open her eyes. He wanted to see those stunning green eyes look up at him, soft, loving, full of desire.
He wanted it because he knew he’d never again see that look in her eyes after this moment. Because now he knew for a fact that he was in love with Bailey.
And he was going to break her heart.
“I never dreamed it could be like this between us.”
He had to stop this now.
As if she heard his thoughts, Bailey’s eyes fluttered open. At first she seemed confused and then those gems drifted up his shoulders and over his face.
They softened.
They grew tender.
They filled with desire.
Vaughn memorized her expression, imprinting the most beautiful image he’d ever seen in his life on his brain, and he cursed himself for being a fucking swine whose heart was big enough to fall in love but too small to stay in love.
Relationships just weren’t for him. He knew that. And he didn’t want to lose the way he felt for her.
Not Bailey.
She’d hurt him and he’d hurt her. The last time that happened he nearly destroyed a woman. Relationships were just too fucked up, and he was thirty-six years old. He’d lived the bachelor life too long to change it now.
That’s why giving in to temptation made him such a prick.
“Hey,” she whispered. “How long did I drift off?”
“Not long.”
At the flatness of his words, Bailey tensed beside him.
Vaughn rolled away from her and off the bed, striding into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. When he walked back into the room he kept his gaze toward his clothes strewn across the floor. He could feel Bailey watching his every move.
“Is this the part where you tell me this was a mistake?” she teased, though the words were tinged with bitterness.
“Believe me, it was.” He glanced up at her and wished he hadn’t.
She was sitting up, holding the sheet protectively to cover her naked breasts. All that glorious hair of hers, the color of the horizon at sunset, spilled around her shoulders.
Jesus.
Now she was turning him into a fucking poet caveman.
“You weren’t drunk,” she argued.
“No, not on alcohol.” He flicked her a glance as he pulled on his underwear and pants. “It was a rough night. We got carried away on adrenaline.”
“So now you’re saying you were never attracted to me?”
“No. I am attracted to you. And now I’ve had you.”
She sucked in a breath at what he didn’t say. “So now you’ve had me, you don’t want me again.”
That ache, that horrible ache that had disappeared during their time together, returned with a vengeance. He stopped what he was doing and met her gaze. “I don’t do relationships, Bailey. And you and me . . .” He gave her a sardonic grin, one he had to force out. “You know we wouldn’t work. We don’t even like each other.”
“We liked each other for a while.”
Her sad tone was like a twist of a knife in his gut. He clenched his teeth against the feeling, and held his body back against the urge to haul her up against him, hold her, shake her, tell her she deserved better than a bastard like him.
“We’re just from different worlds. We don’t fit.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “I thought from everything you said about your mom and dad that you didn’t buy into that class bullshit.”