Dirty

  "We had a few drinks," I admitted.

  "Did you fuck him?"

  "Do you care?"

  He licked his lips, wrinkles crossing his brow. "Guess I do or I wouldn't be asking."

  Grace be damned. I flopped back on the sofa, leaning my head against the cushion and closing my eyes. "Is it the penis that makes you all such abhorrent shitheads? It must be. That bit of anatomy is the one real point of universal commonality between you all, isn't it?"

  Nothing from him.

  I opened my eyes, rolling my head in his direction. "Do something for me?" I asked.

  "What?"

  "If you honestly believe there's a chance I had sex with Eric tonight, be a good boy and shove that guitar where the sun doesn't shine."

  His expression hardened. I daresay it matched mine. We were two angry emotional people. One of the main problems with being female, however, is our propensity for tears. Even when we'd rather not, those sucker glands get all worked up, squeezing out the salt water, making us look and feel weak when we'd rather be going medieval.

  "Night." I struggled to my feet, subtly wiping my face with one hand. Or apparently not so subtly because he immediately followed.

  "Lydia, wait," he said as his strong arms turned me, hauling me against his body. I face-planted into his chest, sniveling all the while because I'm cool like that. If only we'd kept our pelvises separated. We got along well before sex became part of the equation.

  "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

  "You shut me out last night."

  "I know."

  "You disappeared on me today without a word."

  "Yeah."

  "Then you have the gall to act all entitled and pissed off over Eric?"

  He rubbed his face against my hair, squeezing me tight. I had to turn my face sideways to breathe. Even then, his octopus hold made it tricky.

  "Who gains entry to my pants is none of your business," I said, stomping one foot. The foot did not appreciate it, but bad luck. "There's no commitment here."

  "I know, I know." A pause. "But you didn't sleep with him, right?"

  I kicked the man in the shin with everything I had. All of my pent-up rage and drunken anger. Bastard was lucky I didn't try and break his nose. Then I shoved him off.

  "Shit, Lydia."

  "Good night."

  I tried to strut to my room with style, but I'm reasonably certain I flounced. It felt like a flounce. All loose limbs and dubious morals. Slamming the bedroom door shut was also quite juvenile, but whatever. I kicked off my shoes. It took several attempts. I only fell over once, though. Go, Team Lydia!

  I dealt with my black skinny jeans while still on the floor. Because let's be honest, odds were I'd wind up back down there anyway. And go, brain, for being coherent enough to work that one out. My drunken ass was on fire, I tell you. On fire!

  "What are you doing on the floor?"

  I looked up to find him standing there. Uninvited. Ugh.

  "Go away," I said.

  Chances were, if I attempted the removal of my work shirt and bra, I'd somehow manage to take out an eye. Best that I quit while I was ahead.

  Now, time for some rest. I climbed up onto the mattress and stretched out on my back.

  "Seriously, how awesome are beds? Beds are just the best."

  "Are they?" he asked.

  "What are you still doing here?" I threw my pillow at him. Which he caught and replaced on the end of the bed. Pity, it was the only pillow I had and the bottom of the mattress was like miles away. Oh well, I'd just have to sleep without it. "Go away, Vaughan."

  "Christ, you're plastered," he muttered. "Again."

  "You and your friends are a bad influence on me."

  "Right." He cocked his head, giving me a long hard look. Idiot male. "Are you going to throw up?"

  "No."

  "How many drinks did you have?"

  I held up three fingers.

  "He make you cocktails?"

  "Yes." I sighed and closed my eyes, linking my fingers over my belly. "I'm not plastered, just tipsy. I drank lots of water, paced myself, and ate. Go away."

  Instead of hearing the door clicking shut, I felt the mattress shifting beneath me. Mostly on my right-hand side. I opened my eyes and sure enough there he was, sitting next to me.

  "I had a lot of stuff to do today," he said. "I wasn't avoiding you or anything."

  I scoffed.

  "All right, I was avoiding you a little."

  "No shit. Well, now I'm avoiding you a lot," I said, reclosing my eyes. "Go away. And turn off the light on your way out, please."

  Callused fingers stroked my arm, the touch lingering, loving, even. I slapped madly at the hand, doing my best to chase him away. Except of course this was Vaughan so that didn't quite work. Next thing I knew he was crouched over me, swift fingers tickling my ribs, under my arms, my belly. Everywhere, the bastard. I wriggled and squirmed, getting nowhere.

  "Do not tickle me! Leave me alone," I bellowed. "You suck."

  The tickling continued.

  "Get away from me, Hewson. I don't even like you anymore."

  He lay his long body down on top of me, effectively thwarting my ability to fight back. Of course, the feel of him rubbing himself against me woke up my inner horn dog. The desire to arch into him, to stick my tongue down his throat and get me some was mighty. But no! My girl parts would not be so easily swayed. No sex for him.

  By god, the jerk was heavy. Elephants, the Titanic, think that kind of weight range.

  "You're squishing me!"

  Warm lips pressed kisses all over my face. "Do you forgive me?" he asked.

  "No. You're the worst. I'll never forgive you."

  I beat at him with clenched fists, as best as I could. Unfortunately, not only was he heavy, he was strong. The asshat caught my wrists, pressing them down above my head. But I wasn't done yet. Oh no. Like some fearsome, deadly, half-drunk creature, I waited for my chance to strike. Then ... my sharp teeth bit hard into his hot salty skin, holding on. A full frontal attack on the base of his thick neck.

  Hahahahaha.

  "Ouch," he bitched.

  A hand held the back of my head, almost cradling it, but this was war so it couldn't be that. Regardless, I bit on.

  "Fuck, babe." He wrapped my hair around his fist and tugged hard. "All right, you've made your point. I already said I'm sorry. That's enough."

  I released the hard flesh between my teeth. Victory was mine. Plus, my jaw was starting to ache.

  "Am I bleeding?" he asked, trying to look at the wound.

  "No. You're going to have a doozy of a bruise, though." I relaxed back against the mattress, taking a deep breath. At some stage he'd taken most of his weight on one knee. So I actually could breathe freely now. "I told you not to tickle me. And if that was you trying to start something, think again. I can get myself off just fine without your help."

  A grunt of much unhappiness. Then he climbed off of me, collapsing onto the bed at my side, making the mattress shake. For a while, we just lay there in silence.

  "I thought about you today," he said eventually.

  I didn't know how to respond.

  "I am sorry about leaving you alone last night. I just..."

  "You just what?" I asked when it became clear he wouldn't be finishing the thought on his own.

  "It was serious, going to get the pill."

  "Yes, it was." With a heavy sigh I rolled onto my side, facing him. There might come a day in a thousand years or so when the sight of him didn't move me. I doubt it, though. He addled my brain and made the butterflies inside me come to life. What effect he had on my heart, I didn't even want to ponder.

  "I think it shocked me." There was such honesty in his eyes, in his unguarded expression. "I've always been careful about protection. Always. Dad lectured me constantly about it and growing up, I saw friends become fathers way ahead of their time. Then there's all the STDs. But last night with you..."

  "You were upset, Vaughan
."

  "Yeah." He stared into my eyes, giving me a sad smile. "You look tired. Lie down, I'll get the light."

  I didn't ask him if he was staying or retreating to his own room. Being needy annoyed the crap out of me. We didn't have that kind of relationship. He rolled off the bed and flicked off the light. Then he wandered out into the hallway. One by one, the other lights in the house disappeared and full darkness crept in. Heavy footsteps came my way and then the mattress squeaked as he sat at the end.

  That wasn't relief rolling through me. It was something else. Something complicated and beyond my control.

  The palms of his hands slid up over my bare legs, all the way up to my panties, where they lingered with obvious intent.

  "Vaughan."

  "I want to get you off." He traced delicate lines over my stomach, making my muscles clench with need. "Please."

  "I don't know..."

  "Just you. Nothing for me," he said, hooking his fingers in my underwear and slowly dragging them down my legs. "Let me go down on you, Lydia. I want to make amends."

  "I'm not sure making someone perform oral sex should be used as a method of punishment. The ethics are a bit icky." Yeah, I was fighting him hard.

  Gently, he pushed my legs open, kneeling between them. "Babe, licking your pretty pussy is a treat. Not getting a piece of you afterward is the punishment."

  I laughed. "Treat. A piece of me. You make me sound like pie."

  Without further ado, he licked straight up my center. From my butt to my clit and back again. An amazing rush, a whole new kind of intoxication, raced through me. My spine arched, jaw falling open. "Fuck."

  "You're sweet enough to be pie," he mumbled, fixing his mouth to my labia and softly sucking. His nose nuzzled the area around my clit, hot breath stirring over all of that delicate flesh. Every ounce of blood in me rushed to the call of his mouth. My head spun, my body light, incandescent. He sucked and licked and savored me like a feast.

  It was breathtaking.

  The man knew his stuff, driving my excitement to scary heights. First softly grazing his teeth over my mound, then circling my clit with the tip of his tongue. Long licks between my lips, over and over again as his hands held me open. He followed no set pattern, I didn't know what he'd do next. A tender wet open-mouthed French kiss to my opening. Or giving my clit a tongue lashing. Maybe even teasing over my asshole with a light finger. Nothing was off limits in his pursuit of my pleasure.

  Had I been mad at the man? I couldn't remember.

  Surely it was all some silly mistake. No one with a mouth so talented and blessed could possibly have behaved like a thoughtless bastard.

  A finger eased into me and bent a little, taking on the shape of a hook. It was the only way he could have reached the pertinent areas. Carefully the pad of his finger rubbed over the back of my clit, massaging me inside. My poor wet swollen pussy never stood a chance. The orgasm nearly knocked me out. Bright lights bursting inside of me, a pleasure so keen it was almost pain. I came hard and fast, gasping his name, clinging to the bedsheets as the world turned upside down. It took a fair while for things to come right again.

  Someone was mouth-breathing seriously loud. How uncouth. Muscles kept twitching, inside me, in my thick thighs. Poor shell-shocked things. They'd probably never be the same. He'd broken me for all others. I was sure of it. And I didn't even have the energy to care.

  He wiped his face off on the sheet and then pulled me into his arms, spooning me. Getting comfortable and settling in for the night. The scent of my come still lingered on him. His lips were still damp as he kissed my shoulder, the back of my neck. I don't know if I'd ever been with someone quite as raw. Not vulgar, just open, relaxed, and matter-of-fact about sex and into all of my body.

  "Apology accepted," I said.

  "Good."

  "Be warned, though, I'm practicing to become a better feminist." I rolled onto my back, staring at his luminous eyes in the dark. "The whole Chris thing was a kick to the clit, but I'm working hard to set myself straight now. I own this body. My fate is mine."

  "Okay," he said slowly, meshing his fingers with mine. "Where is this going?"

  "I just want you to know, I will not be falling slave to your devil dick and demon tongue. No matter how good they are."

  "Hmm." He rubbed his mouth against my shoulder. "Is that your way of saying you like how I fuck?"

  "Yes. Basically."

  "Well ... I'm glad," he said eventually. "And I'd like you to know that I consider myself a feminist too. You are more than my equal. But with all due respect, I think maybe you should consider getting some sleep now. This body that you own is probably going to feel bad in the morning. I'm a little worried that you're fated to have a hangover tomorrow."

  Sadly, the man made sense. I snuggled into him, closing my eyes. "I'm going to miss you when you're gone."

  A squeeze and another kiss to the back of my neck.

  "The town was so pretty as Boyd was driving me home. We went by the scenic route through downtown."

  "Downtown's in the opposite direction," he said with a smile in his voice.

  "I know, but Boyd didn't seem to mind and I just felt like seeing it. All of the lights and the trees, the water. It's all so beautiful, you know?"

  "I know," he said, sounding a little sad.

  "I started wondering what it will be like when the trees change color, when it snows."

  "Cold," he deadpanned.

  "You don't say."

  A snicker.

  "At any rate, I got thinking and ... I'm not sure I want to leave after all." I tried to organize my thoughts in a straight line, but my brain was all orgasm-and alcohol-befuddled. It wasn't easy. "See, part of me wants to spend the rest of my days at least two states away from the Delaneys at any given time. But the other part of me is all 'you take your problems with you wherever you go.' The truth is, my issues aren't really about Chris and company, they're about me not being happy with my life and making bad choices. That's not going to change just because my address does."

  Nothing.

  "What do you think?"

  He sighed. "Honestly, people have long memories. There's a lot to be said for starting over somewhere new."

  "My parents had that attitude and it never quite worked for me. And here ... I'm finally starting to feel like I've found the place where I belong."

  Vaughn didn't answer and a sneaky unwelcome little voice suggested he didn't want me here. However he felt about the place, it would always be his hometown. He had family and friends here, a history. For certain at some time in the future he'd be back around and if I was still here ... well, running into ex-lovers could be awkward as hell.

  "You don't have to make any decisions right now," he said. "Rest."

  Everything was quiet for a good long time before I heard him speak again. My mind was on the edge of sleep, so it might have even been a dream. A delusion.

  "I'm going to miss you too," a voice whispered.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Friday morning, Vaughan sat out on the back patio steps, basking in the sun, playing his guitar. No shirt on, which was definitely my preferred attire for his upper body. Same went for the lower. A pad and pen were at his side, like last night. I remembered it all ... vaguely.

  Did he really say he was going to miss me? Maybe he had and it didn't mean anything major. You could run out of ketchup and miss it without a crushing sense of deprivation overwhelming your life. It was, after all, just a condiment. I might well be the current pick of the condiments in his life. But he'd still eat a hamburger without me.

  A terrible analogy, I know. But quite possibly true.

  At any rate, I couldn't think about it right now. Literally couldn't. Any usage of the brain was bad. Inside my skull, things throbbed and hurt. I threw down two Advil with a bottle full of water and made a cup of coffee while trying not to think of anything. Only, trying not to think of anything was just as bad as focusing on something, and the malevolent or
ganism in my head took it as a declaration of war.

  Pain, so much pain.

  Maybe not drinking anything with an alcohol percentage for a while was the way to go. Also, Eric must die. Enablers were bad, evil people. The world must be purged of them.

  I hid behind my sunglasses, sitting at one of the few remaining dining room chairs (several had fallen during the great fight) and listened to him playing through the open kitchen doors. Thank god for coffee. Coffee understood. Coffee was my friend.

  Merrily, the drugs were at long last beginning to kick in when he noticed my presence.

  "Morning." He shifted his position, all the better to see me. Unfortunately, I wasn't a good view.

  "Hi."

  "How you feeling?"

  "Like Long Island Iced Teas are not my friend."

  He inspected me over the top of his sunglasses. "Shit, you were drinking those? No wonder you were smashed."

  "One Old Fashioned, one lychee martini, one Caipirinha, and one Long Island Iced Tea."

  "So you had four cocktails," he said. "Last night you told me three."

  "Did I? Huh."

  He gave me a look that was most dubious.

  "I've decided I have no further statement to make about last night."

  "Have you now?" His tongue played behind his cheek. No idea what expression filled his eyes; he'd retreated back behind his shades. Probably for the best.

  He gave up the sun and came inside, carrying his guitar in one hand and a pad and pen in the other. All of it got dumped on the kitchen table.

  "Working on a new song?" I asked.

  "Yes," he said, sitting down across the table from me. "It's called 'You Say Funny Shit When You're Drunk."

  "I like it. Sounds like a winner."

  "Yeah. It's going to be by the Devil Dick and Demon Tongue Band." He took off his sunglasses, placed them on the table. "What do you think?"

  "That's the name of the new band? Sweet."

  "Classy, right?"

  "Totally." I suppressed my smile, just barely. Funny bastard. I swirled the dregs of my coffee around in the cup. "Do you have any plans for today?"

  "No, nothing today." He stared out the open kitchen doors at the world beyond. The large broken panel of glass had been replaced sometime yesterday. "I, ah, I accepted an offer on the house."

  My face froze. "You did?"

  A nod.

  "Wow. That was fast. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, it's a great property."

  High up on the wall, the kitchen clock was ticking. I don't know if I'd really noticed it before, but now ... damn, it was loud.