Provocative Professions Collection (39 page)

I sit up and pull my tank free, then lie back down, breath rushing out in excited anticipation. I've never been the recipient of such lavishing—a blow to get him hard followed by quick, unfulfilling fucks and fast talking lies are all I've ever known. Even with Corey, who I at least felt comfortable with since he knew me better than most, wasn't a fourth as built as Vaughn is, and he
never
made me laugh.

"Fucking perfect tits, Firecracker." His praise is a gritty rumble from deep in his chest as he cups them both, squeezing, rubbing, and finally taking one into his mouth. When he bites the nipple and I arch my back, he slips a finger inside me, drawing out my prolonged sigh of ecstasy. I flex my inner muscles around his digit and he withdraws from my breast, laughing lightly. "Your tight lil' pussy sending me Morse code, babe?"

"Need—"

"What?"
Oh, this man
, grinning all cocky down at me, eyes aglow knowingly. "Wanna hear that sassy mouth say it." He dips a finger inside me and drags it back and forth, pressing harder on my already strained, pulsing muscles. One teasing swipe against
that
spot and he winks. "Found it, didn't I? You better say it, beautiful."

"Vaughn," I whine, ashamed but unable to resist. I want this man. In so many mysterious ways.

"I know
my
name, Paige." He adds his thumb to my clit and licks his lips. "Now tell me what you want me to do to you,
exactly
. Talk
real
dirty. I like it."

"I…I want you to—"

"Uh huh," he prompts, pulling out his wet finger and sneaking it to—

"No! Not that!" I jerk, arms flying, squirming away, which he prevents with little effort.

He gut laughs, head tossed back. "We'll work up to it. Better be specific then, huh?"

"Eat my pussy, Vaughn," I manage between gasps. "Please."

"Fuck yeah," he grunts, slithering down between my legs and spreading my thighs painfully wide.

It all happens at once, an exquisite barrage of his mouth, tongue, and fingers that has me wriggling to flee, yet pressing harder against his face, hands fisting the sheets for leverage. White spots are black, my shrieks and moans sound miles away, and the unyielding vibrations of his growling tickle my pussy fantastically.

Conversation be damned,
this
is what his mouth was made to do. I have no idea exactly how he's managing, aware only that his fingers take special care of the g-spot I thought was mythical, his mouth and tongue suckling over both sides of my labia
and
simultaneously teasing my clit with glorious nips. He's a vagina voodooist!

I come, hard, long, and loud, barely able to catch my breath before he's at it again. No reprieve. Two fingers re-enter me, taking turns with his tongue driving in and out of my core, lapping up my pleasure. The deliriously filthy sounds echoing around the room.

"No," I beg, depleted. "No more! Please, enough!"

He ignores me, working even harder for my next release, his fingers finding my g-spot again and pressing in with no relent, one fingertip of his other hand lightly teasing at my ass, tongue licking deep in every crease as his teeth scrape against my clit.

"I can't!" I writhe as though seizing. "Not again, I can't!"

"Paige!"

Um, not his voice shrieking! My eyes fly open at the same time as my bedroom door.

"Are you okay?"

I groan in mortification, covering my red-hot face with my hands, a worried Amelia having busted in on us. But Vaughn?

"Stop!" I squeeze my thighs against the sides of his head, since our audience has done nothing to cease his ministrations below. "Vaughn, stop!" I yell again, and he finally pops his head up.

"What?" he snaps, pulling my hands away from my face and following my humiliated gaze to the doorway where a shocked Amelia and amused Shaw stand frozen in place.

"See," Shaw leans into her ear but fails to whisper, "I told you he wasn't hurting her. The sounds of indulgence are pretty recognizable, Beauty." He laughs and pats her ass.

"But I heard you, Paige. You said 'stop, no more, please,'" she blathers, confused. "
Several
times."

"What?" I ask, slowly dying of embarrassment even though my cocky cohort seems unfazed, covering us with the blanket and moving up to lie beside me. "I am
not
that loud!"

"You would've been." Vaughn smacks a kiss on my cheek and pulls me closer with an arm around my shoulder. "I was just getting' started. You
really
like it when I—"

"Shut it, Stone!" I cut him off with a hand slapped over his mouth, then look to Amelia. "He's right." I shrug, no shame left to be had. "But how you two can hear anything
over each other
, I can't possibly fathom."

She blushes crimson and holds up her phone, a call from me running on the screen. "I take it you butt dialed me?" she mumbles, burying her face in the shaking chest of Shaw, who's still snickering at my exposed expense.

My phone
. "Where'd you throw it?" I hiss at Vaughn, also now giggling like a girl.

He lifts the covers, moves around, "checks" under my ass, finally locating it down by our feet. "Found it!" he boasts, holding it up and mercifully pressing end on the call.

"Can you please leave?" I ask them, then stare directly at Vaughn. "You too."

There's nothing but annoyance glaring back at me, but he stands, discreetly tucking his cock—stunning even when soft—back into his boxer briefs. "I assure you," he speaks to our spectators, "I would never hurt Paige. Now, mosey along," he does the shooing thing with his hands, "nothing more to see here.
Which
I can't thank you enough for," he grinds out with blatant, inconvenienced sarcasm.

Chapter 6

"You seem…" Harlow digs around her mouth for the right word, "happy?"

What with my downright bubbly personality and insatiable hunger to "chat with a few girlfriends," I toss out a small titter and shrug as I stow my bag under the counter. "What can I say? If my epicenter's feeling good, it shoots out sunshine signals to the rest of me."

Poor Harlow is baffled silent, obviously debating if I'm being a snarky bitch or truly have the driest sense of humor on the planet.

Little of both.

Can't help it. Genetics or something.

"So what's new with you, blondie?" I ask, guilt propelling me to relieve the wrinkle in her brow.

"Well, um," is all she gets out before I'm attacked…she'd probably call it a hug. There's sobbing, blubbering, and lots of snot; it's not pretty.

Another fine example of why I never pledged Chi Kappa Crybaby. But seeing as how she's likely to remain attached until I say something, I clear my throat and take a stab at it. "Harlow," stiff pat on her shoulder, "is there someone I can hurt for you?"

"Wow, you're worse at that than I'd have guessed." The slick, baritone pester from behind me sends a dash of zest up my spine and I manage, amidst Harlow's clinging limbs, to turn my head.

"I thought you were off for a few days?" I ask one simpering Vaughn Stone, obviously getting mass enjoyment over my newly acquired Siamese twin…or more likely, the agonized scowl I know I wear.

"Get her off me," I mouth to him in pleading desperation, earning his deep, rumbling laugh, but he does move to help.

"Harlow?" he asks in a soothing voice, coming behind the counter and approaching us slowly, disengaging her tentacles from around me. "Let's turn Paige here loose and let her get to work before she sinks those fangs of hers in. Whaddaya say?"

Freed, I take a few hurried, large steps back, sighing in relief.

"She only likes it when
certain
people touch her," he explains to Harlow, but lifts one side of his talented mouth and winks at me.

With concerted effort, I give him a dramatic gag and eye roll before starting to switch out the register drawers. "Harlow, you have to go cash out. And where the hell is Viv?" Honestly, I don't know why I bother asking anymore.

"She called in. Date with Marcus," Harlow peeks out with a sniffle and weak smile in Vaughn's direction.
Yeah, cause he's the one with your mucus streaks on his shoulder.
"Just you tonight. Will you be alright?"

"I don't know," I scoff. "She's just so darn helpful when she
is
here, I'm not sure I can manage without her." Probably not the best of ideas to admittedly call in for a date, versus sickness or death of a fictional family member…but I'm secretly glad to hear she's giving McCreamy a chance.

I don't miss the hard set in Vaughn's jaw. "Not safe," he practically grunts. "I'll stay with you."

Magic Mouth said what?

He can read my face or mind, 'cause his unfairly enticing eyes alight with traces of smug victory and his shoulders bounce. "You heard me."

"I'll just, uh, go do my count." Harlow excuses herself amidst the growing tension, snagging her drawer and sneaking off.

"I must not've heard you
right
," I snip, one hand on my hip, drumming my fingers, "'cause I damn sure don't need a babysitter. What the hell are you doing here, anyway? You never answered me before. Surely you don't like hanging out at the truck stop when you don't have a haul?"

He uses this time to exit our work area and round to stand in front of me at the counter.
Also known as buying time to conjure up a reasonable excuse or snazzy remark.

No way am I giving it to him. "Oh, Vaughn," I let the condescension ooze and taper the coy grin, "you do, don't you? That's so sad. Have you tried Match.com? How about Tinder? Those girls are younger, easier prey."
Now
he gets a smile, and one so sweet my cheeks hurt.

"Boy, you're on one today." He shakes his head. "You need me to suck on that sweet pussy real quick and set you right again?"

"I'll pass. I need you to tell me what you're doing here. 'Cause it seems like you came to see me on one of your few nights off, rather than finding some hooch at a bar, watching a game on TV, or
sleeping
?"

He doesn't say a word, only crosses his arms at his chest, one hand lifting to rub contemplatively along his jaw as he cocks his head to one side, narrowing those denim eyes at me.

"Vaughn," I sigh, diverting my gaze, "I don't need or want anything serious, nothing like a
relationship
. Alright?"

"Don't remember asking for one, but nice ego you got there."

Something—no, not the fact that his voice matches the tempting truth that he's so damn gorgeous your kegels do themselves for you the minute he walks in—something else in this new, edgy tone of his tells me Vaughn's always been the one to issue the "it's not you, it's me" speeches, and he
does not
like being on the receiving end.

He's hot, orally astounding, almost faster than me with the clever zingers, and seemingly a
good guy
—all the qualities I'd want in my next victim. But that's exactly what he'd be, and not only am I out of energy for another round of the bloodbath that is me trying to actually date, but I'm pretty sure… Sigh. He doesn't deserve such torture.

"I came to grab a shower. Our hot water heater's busted," he gripes when I take too long to say anything.

"Oh, okay then." I duck my head, plotting how to get my own dumb, assuming foot out of my mouth as I fumble with the shower cards. Checking for a towel and finding none, I curse under my breath. "Here." I hand him a number, which he rips away. "You can head on back. I'll find a towel and hang it over the side."

"Yup," he clips out and stalks away.

Well that went swimmingly. In shark infested waters with a gaping, bleeding mess of a wound. Can't a broody bitch get a break anymore?

"Harlow," I stick my head in the back room, "can you listen for the front? I gotta go dig up some towels."

"Sure." She nods, then huffs and lets out a distressed exhale. "Lost my place, gotta start over. Go, go!" I'm shooed, containing my snicker…
she was on the pennies
. Thank God she's pretty.

After changing out the loads and folding a few, I grab the pile of towels and head toward the shower stalls. I can hardly wait to go home to no hot water myself—the dread putting me off guard long enough for one strong, determined hand to shoot out around the corner and snare me by the arm.

"Wh—" I start to shriek, stopped by two hands, now not
dragging
me but instead
carrying
me to stall twelve, one covering my mouth.

"Don't scare Harlow. She's obviously fragile today," he croons in humor against my ear before removing his hand from my mouth and running it down to rest on my hip as he sets me back on my feet.

"Vaughn, I told you." I emit a heavy sigh, attempting to shift and put some space between his massive, hard body and my own. It's no use, since he's using that same physique to pin me up against the tiled wall. "The other morning, whatever…it was great, but that's it. I can't—"

"Hey, Pistol," he tilts my chin with one fingertip, "I agree. It was great, fanfuckingtastic. Which is why I want more. O
f that
, nothing else. And," he leans in and kisses me quickly, "you better reign in that frown and doubt in your voice. You're sounding all
relationship-like
." He gives me a saucy "got ya" wink, and then
it's on
.

Desperate hands and lips are all I feel as my clothes are yanked off in a blur and the hot water sluices over us. I cling to his soaked body, ready to climb and mount it, taking what we both want.

Instead, he grips my shoulders, pulls away, and steadies us both. His eyes hold mine, glittering in satisfaction, and my nerves tighten with impatience.

"Gonna make me beg or you changing your mind?" I joke, swiping my drenched hair out of my face.

His lips curl in sinister sex appeal. "Just wondering how you look on your knees."

He doesn't need to say more, I
want
to taste him as much as I want to fuck him. Maybe it's about needing to hear
him
call out
my
name, see
him
lost in the gratification
I
can give. He's not the only one with a talented mouth.