It’s official. I really, really dislike the hot jerk.
I’m in the main warehouse where we store all the clothes. Ava asked me to put away the shoes from today’s shoot. After I wheeled them over here in a cart, I reach inside and grab a pair of men’s brogues.
Even though I know these shoes are not Vaughn’s, I still slam them onto the rack like they are his. If I can’t take my anger out on him, then the shoes are getting it.
Sorry, shoes.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
I whirl around at the voice, my heart making a break out of my chest.
Vaughn.
“Jesus, you scared me.” I frown at him, pressing my hand to my heart, trying to settle it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Yeah, well, you did.” I turn away from him and grab another pair of shoes—Jimmy Choos this time. I’m a little more careful with putting these ones back. No way can I abuse a pair of Choos.
“Did you need me to do something?” I add with attitude.
“I want to apologize. For earlier. I was an ass.”
My heart skips. But I don’t let it show. “Yeah, you were. A monumental one.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, as in you forgive me?”
I shrug.
“Jesus. Can you turn and look at me while I talk to you? It’s no fun having a conversation with your back.”
I look at him over my shoulder. “Yeah, well, it’s no fun being yelled at in front of the whole crew.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay then,” I retort.
“Jesus, woman, what do you want? Blood? I said I was sorry. I can’t do any more.”
Anger lancing through me, I spin around to face him. “I don’t want anything from you. You said you were sorry. We’re good.”
“From where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like we’re good.”
“What do you want? You want me to do a little happy dance or something?” I do a little dance on the spot, waving my hands around.
He laughs. “You’re fucking crazy.”
I stop dancing and frown. “Maybe because you make me crazy.”
“Right back at you, Pins.”
“Will you stop calling me that?” My hands go to my hips. So do his eyes.
“No,” he says slowly, dragging his gaze back up to mine.
“Fine. Then, I’ll just call you…Boner!”
I see a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. He knows I saw the hard-on he had earlier while filming.
His expression narrows. “You know, you should speak to me with more respect than that.”
“Why? Because you’re a big movie star, and I’m just a wardrobe assistant? Yeah, well, you know what you can do with that notion? I only give respect to people who earn it.”
“Oh, I’ve earned it all right.” His face is tightening with anger.
“You haven’t earned a dime of respect. You’re just an arrogant, jumped-up—”
I don’t get to finish my sentence because he cuts me off.
Well, his arm cuts me off when it reaches out, grabs ahold of me, and yanks me into his body.
Then, his lips are on mine.
Soft and sweet. Nothing like I was expecting but so much better. Pressed there, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss me further.
I pop open an eye. “Um, what are you doing?” I ask, breathless. Because I am breathless.
Vaughn West’s lips are currently on mine. Vaughn West, the movie star. Vaughn West, whom I’ve more than once used as a mental prop when spending alone time with my vibrator.
The fangirl in me is jumping up and down—even if he is an arrogant jerk.
His eyes open and stare into mine. “I’m kissing you. Is that okay?”
“Mmhmm.” I nod lightly, my lips still attached to his. “Totally. I was just checking because—”
“Pins.”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up, and let me kiss you.”
And I do. I let him push me back up against the shoe rack and kiss the hell out of me.
And, God, can the man kiss.
His tongue lightly sweeps over my bottom lip, and then he nips it with his teeth, making me moan.
One hand is cupping the nape of my neck; the other finds its way to the hem of my dress. His fingers brush over my bare skin, making me gasp.
He stills.
There’s a fraction of a beat where he just breathes against me. Then, he dives in again, and all bets are off.
His hand grabs my thigh and lifts. Hooking my leg around his hip, he presses into me.
And he’s hard.
I already saw his size earlier. It’s impressive.
And it’s even better pressed up against me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, crushing my breasts to his chest. My hips start to move against him without my control. It’s instinctual.
I suck on his tongue, and he groans.
“You feel so fucking good, Charly,” he says into my mouth. “Taste so good. Better than I imagined.”
He’s imagined this?
My confidence skyrockets. Well, it’s not every day that a man like him tells you he’s imagined kissing you.
We’re going hard at it, kissing like we’ve been starved of each other, his body molded to mine. I feel his hand wander to my ass, my dress lifting, and I wonder just how far this is going to go.
How far will I let it go?
Do I want him?
God, yes.
But in a warehouse?
No, I don’t think so.
Then, a door bangs, jolting us apart.
We’re staring at each other, chests heaving. His lips are swollen from my kiss, his cheeks flushed, his hair tousled. He looks like pure sex.
Good sex.
Hot, dirty, all-night-long sex.
I want him. Badly. Like I’ve never wanted a man before.
Footsteps start to come our way. I see panic fill his eyes, so I grab his hand and lead him away from the approaching footsteps, to the far end of the aisle and up toward the exit.
We fall out through the door, and I close it behind us.
It’s dark out, the area lit by one of the many streetlamps that dot the studio.
“So…” I lean back against the door.
“We shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I shouldn’t have done that.”
Oh. I deflate. All the good, amazing feelings I was having are gone, like the pop of a balloon.
“Okay,” I say. And I don’t really know what else to say or do, so I just start to walk away.
“Pins”—he catches hold of my hand from behind me, turning me back to him—“that came out sounding wrong. I wanted to kiss you. God, I want to kiss you.”
His eyes move to my lips. I wet them with my tongue. It’s automatic, but I won’t deny that the flare of lust in his eyes sends a thrill zinging to my clit.
“It’s just that I need to keep my name out of the press. I promised Jack, my manager, and I promised myself, no fucking around while I do this film. Brandon wanted me for the movie, but before he offered it to me, he had reservations because of the way I’d been living my life. I need this movie. I need the focus to be on this movie and not who I’m sleeping with.”
“We’re not sleeping together.” My voice comes out a little sharper than intended.
Okay, I intended it to be sharp.
“I know. I mean, I want to sleep with you…”
He moves closer, and my breath catches.
“Well, what I want to do with you wouldn’t require any sleep. I want to fuck you until neither of us can walk. But I can’t. Not right now.” He steps back, dropping my hand. “I can’t get involved with you even though I really want to.”
“It’s fine, Vaughn. I get it.” And I do. Only my libido isn’t feeling too happy about it. “Friends.” I hold my hand out to him, forcing a smile onto my face.
&nbs
p; He stares at it for a beat, and I remember how he rejected my hand the first time I met him.
I’m just about to pull away when he slips his hand into mine. Electricity fires up my arm, the feel of his rough hand reminding me of how it felt on me just those few minutes ago.
He looks at me. “Friends,” he says.
And he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Charly
It’s around ten, and I’m lying in bed, wearing my pajamas—a tank and boy shorts. I’m watching a Sex and the City rerun, eating chocolate.
Hey, don’t judge. I’m feeling a little sorry for myself over Vaughn.
When there’s a knock at my door, I stop chewing.
Who could that be?
My eyes go to the door like it holds the answer.
Putting my bar of chocolate down on the nightstand, I slide my legs off the bed and quietly pad over to the door.
I put my ear to the door but can’t hear anything.
I swallow the chocolate in my mouth. “Who is it?” I ask.
“Vaughn.”
Holy Jesus.
What is he doing here?
My heart bangs hard against my chest as I take ahold of the handle and open the door.
And there he is, looking beautiful, wearing a Lakers ball cap pulled low over his eyes, light-blue jeans with his hands pushed into the pockets, and a midnight blue V-neck sweater that looks soft to the touch. I’m almost certain that it’s Armani. That sweater more than likely costs more than my whole month’s rent.
“Hi,” I say softly, curling my fingers into the hem of my shorts.
His hands pull from his pockets, going to either side of the doorframe where he grips it. “So, it turns out, the friends thing isn’t going to work for me.”
“Oh.” I sag a little. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not enough. I need more. I want more…I want all of you.”
My heart soars, and my panties mentally drop.
A second later, my face is in his hands, and he’s kissing me like he might die if he doesn’t. I know I’ll die if he stops. Then, he’s walking me back into my room, kicking the door shut with his foot.
His tongue is in my mouth, fighting mine over whose belongs where. I push his ball cap off, letting it fall to the floor, and my fingers tangle in his hair, clutching and pulling at it.
His hands find my ass and lift me. I wrap my legs around his waist.
The next thing I feel is my back against the wall. And Vaughn is pressed up against me, taking my mouth like it belongs to him.
Because, right now, it does. For this moment in time, I’m his to do whatever he wants with.
“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Was just eating some before you got here.” I can barely get the words out.
You’ve got to cut me some slack here. I currently have Vaughn West’s body molded to mine. My libido is throwing a fucking fanfare.
He runs his tongue over my lower lip, making me shiver.
“Delicious. But I bet your pussy tastes even better.”
Holy God. He’s a dirty-talker, and it’s so hot.
“I want you so fucking bad,” he rumbles.
I want you so bad, too.
I make a garbled sound of agreement. It’s all I can manage at the moment.
“Charly, are you with me?” He rests his forehead to mine, eyes watching me.
“I’m with you,” I pant, breathless.
“Good.” A sexy-as-hell smile slides onto his face. “Because I’m about to fuck you into oblivion.”
Oh, sweet Jesus, yes.
He carries me over to the bed and deposits me onto it. He kicks off his shoes and lies over me. He kisses me again, and I spread my legs, making room for him. He pushes up against me, making me moan.
He pulls back and thrusts against me. My head tips back, pressing into the bed. His lips find my neck, kissing me, his tongue trailing over my skin.
“You smell good. What is that? Raspberries and…”
“Vanilla,” I pant. “Raspberry shampoo. Vanilla body wash.”
“Mmm. I like it.” He moves down my body, giving a kiss to the valley of my breasts and then one on the skin of my stomach where my tank has ridden up.
On his knees, he puts his hands on my thighs. Then, he puts his face between my legs and inhales, making me squirm. “But you smell even better here.”
Holy God.
He runs his nose up and down the seam of my boy shorts before pressing it against my clit, making me gasp with need.
“You like that?”
“God, yes.” I slide my fingers into his hair, gripping the strands. My legs are shifting restlessly on the bed. I need him to touch me.
He climbs up my body and kisses me, deep and hard. He pulls back and looks into my eyes.
I know I must look wild-eyed and wanton. I’m so turned on, it’s not even funny.
“You’re so fucking hot, Pins.”
He touches his thumb to my mouth, rubbing it over my lips. I catch hold of it with my teeth. Then, I suck it into my mouth, not breaking eye contact with him. His eyes flare with lust, and I see the exact moment when his patience snaps.
“I need to taste you. Now.”
He’s moving back down my body, and I’m shivering with need.
He gets to his knees, fingers hooking into my shorts and panties. I lift my ass, and he pulls them off together. Then, I move my legs, so he can get them off. He tosses them aside and stares down at me.
He looks like a god up there. An impossibly beautiful god that no woman could ever deserve.
And he’s about to go down on me.
Whatever I did in a former life or this one to deserve this, thank you, Jesus. Thank you!
I’m also thanking the heavens that I shaved yesterday, leaving a little landing strip, and showered before getting ready for bed.
But what if Vaughn likes his women completely bare down there?
“I haven’t seen this in a long time.”
My vagina? When has he seen it previously?
He runs his finger over the little bit of hair on my folds.
Oh.
“You don’t like?” I ask, feeling a little self-conscious.
That vanishes when his eyes meet mine. The desire in them is evident, and it makes my belly clench tight.
“Oh, I like it all right. I like it a lot. It’s good to see a real woman for once.”
I have no idea what that means, but he likes it. I lose all train of thought when he goes down, parting me with his fingers and running his tongue up my pussy to my clit.
“Ohmigod!” My legs try to come up, but he holds my thighs down with his hands, and then his tongue goes to town on me.
He’s licking my clit, fucking me with his tongue, and it’s amazing. Otherworldly. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
My hands are curled into the bedsheet, my toes digging into the mattress.
It’s been so long since I came at the hands—well, in this case, at the mouth of a man. And this is Vaughn West in between my legs. The chances of me not coming in less than thirty seconds will be a fucking miracle.
“Oh, Jesus…Vaughn…that’s so good. God, don’t stop. I’m so close…so close…fuuck!”
And I come like a rocket shooting off into space. And then I come some more, his tongue relentlessly licking me, wringing me dry, until I sag into the bed, spent.
He promised oblivion. Oblivion, he gave.
I’m dying. And I’m dying a happy girl.
Vaughn kisses his way up my body, his hand pushing up my tank. I feel his mouth come down and suck around my nipple.
“Mmm,” I moan, sliding my fingers into his hair, opening my eyes.
Okay, so apparently, I’m easily brought back to life.
He gets to his knees, straddling my stomach, and pulls my tank up. I lift myself to allow it over my head.
I lie back down and get a good view of his erection strai
ning against his jeans. I reach out and press my hand to it. Curling my fingers around, I squeeze gently.
Vaughn moans, his eyes closing.
“You’re still fully dressed,” I say, moving my hand up and down.
His eyes flash open. His sweater is off a second later.
My hands go to his button and zipper, pulling it down. I tug on the waistband.
Vaughn gets to his feet, which are nicely bare.
Is it odd that I like the fact that he doesn’t wear socks with his sneakers?
Standing between my legs, he puts his hands in his jeans pockets, takes his phone and wallet out, and tosses them on the nightstand.
He takes his jeans off.
And then he’s naked.
Of course I’ve seen Vaughn naked before. Earlier today, on set.
But this is different. One thing, I’m getting an unprecedented view of his cock. And what a cock it is. Thick and long, straining upward. And so ready for me.
I get a thrill, knowing that I’ve made him this hard. That he wants me this badly.
He’s so ripped. A six-pack and that deep-cut V that makes girls like me lose their panties.
I sit up and run my fingers over his abs. Then, lower, I run them over his stomach, not far from his cock.
I hear him suck in a breath, and it makes me smile.
Moving my fingers down his stomach, I trail them over his cock, tracing the veins running through it with my fingertips.
His hand goes to the back of my head. Fingers gripping my hair, he tips my head back, so I’m staring up into his blazing eyes.
“Which one did I get?” I ask, running a finger over his balls.
His lips lift at the corner. “The right one.”
“Guess I should kiss it better then.” I kiss my way across his hip bone until I’m face-to-face with Vaughn West’s cock.
Holy hell.
Lowering my head, I press a soft kiss to the ball that I injured.
“Better?” I tip my head back and look up at him again.
His jaw is tight, eyes heavy-lidded.
He shakes his head.
Smiling, I lean back in and kiss it again. “Now?” I ask.
“No,” is his rough response, his grip on my hair tightening.