21. Alba
TWENTY-ONE
ALBA
I woke from the best sleep of my life with Vaughn’s arm around me, his body a warm wall at my back. His hand was moving gently, palm spread on my upper abdomen, thumb brushing the underside of my breast. His cock was hard.
“Did you even sleep?” I asked, groggy, a smile in my voice. I wiggled my butt so he knew I was teasing.
“I slept plenty,” he replied, voice full of gravel. His hand moved to cup my breast, thumb and forefinger tweaking my nipple. I sighed into the touch, eyes closing again, wanting this moment to last forever.
“Want you just like this,” Vaughn rasped as he pressed a kiss below my ear. “Soft and relaxed.”
“Mm?”
His hand slid down my stomach and between my legs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, and I leaned my upper back into his chest.
“Don’t move, princess,” he told me. “Let me have you just like this.”
I let my body relax against his. The light from the windows was soft, and it was easy to keep my eyes closed as his hand moved between my legs, circling my clit, sending sparks through my thighs.
It was hard to believe it had only been about twelve hours since we’d come together the first time.
I felt closer to Vaughn than I had to anyone else in a long time.
Even with James, I realized, there had been some space between us.
The pause when the check at a restaurant arrived, and I had to dig through my purse while James sat back and watched.
The way he’d make me wait for his text messages, even though he was always on his phone.
The way he’d rolled away from me that last time and kicked me out of his bed.
It had been agony when it happened, when he made it clear that there’d been no love on his side.
With Vaughn, it was different. He’d met me at my lowest—and he still wanted me.
He still wanted only me. When had a man—or anyone—wanted me even when I couldn’t give them anything?
With James, I’d been the holder of the purse strings.
With Cole, I’d been the gateway to respectability in the upper echelons of society.
I’d been the bridge to make his father happy after the estrangement they’d gone through.
But with Vaughn, I was just…me. Terrifying. Wonderful.
“You going to let me in?” Vaughn asked, sleep still muffling his voice, his hand still moving slowly, leisurely, between my legs.
I hummed, shifting against him. Slight pressure from his palm told me he wanted me to spread my legs. I lifted my top knee, and Vaughn’s breath gusted out as he dipped his finger just inside me.
A moment later, his cock was pressing against me, pressure and stretch and heat at my core. Vaughn stroked my body, telling me to relax, telling me that he wanted me just like this, that I didn’t have to do anything but stay where I was.
A soft moan slipped through my lips as he slid inside me, slow and inexorable, filling me up completely. It felt so good to be joined with him like this, to know that he would tell me exactly what to do to make it feel good.
I didn’t have to think or wonder or spin out in my own mind.
Vaughn’s hand slid over my hip, gripping softly. His lips brushed the pulse point on my neck, and I kept my body soft, relaxed, accepting more of him inside me. He grunted, fingertips digging into my flesh, his hips rolling against me.
I let myself fall into the moment with him, my mind going blank.
It was just skin and pleasure and Vaughn.
His hand shifted between my legs as he entered me slowly, rhythmically.
There was no pressure for me to perform or to be something other than who I was.
I didn’t have to orgasm for him. I just had to be.
“So perfect,” he groaned, the pressure of his fingers increasing on my clit. “So wet and perfect, princess. I could keep doing this for hours.”
My head fell back against his shoulder, and then he was fucking into me a little harder. A little faster.
“You make this so good for me,” he continued, nose brushing my neck, teeth scraping at my shoulder. “Letting me take what I want like a good girl.”
I sighed at his words, relaxing into his touch. There should have been shame that I enjoyed being used like this, that I wanted it, but there was nothing but sweet blankness and mounting pleasure. No undercurrents of stress. No wondering if he was genuine or not. No need to perform.
When he rolled me onto my front and caught my wrists in his, I let out a sigh.
He held them fast to the bed, his calves pinning my legs.
My hips rocked up to meet his, and then I couldn’t have formed a coherent thought to save my life.
Vaughn took me hard and deep, and the sweet blankness gave way to the pleasure.
I came with a cry, shuddering beneath him, then whimpered when I felt him pull out.
A moment later, hot spurts painted my thighs and ass as Vaughn moaned above me.
I panted, my heart racing, as Vaughn stroked my sides and caught his own breath.
Then he climbed off the bed and came back a minute later with a wet washcloth to wipe me off.
I sank into the mattress as I enjoyed his ministrations, my eyes closing, then hummed as he gathered me into his arms and held me.
I stayed at Vaughn’s for three days. He went to work when he needed to and worked from home when he could.
We did etiquette lessons at his dining room table and learned the rumba in his living room.
He fucked me on every available surface.
It was a bubble of sex and happiness, and on some level, I knew it would pop.
Things didn’t keep going well in my life.
Vegetable gardens got demolished. Relationships ended. Bubbles popped.
I just didn’t know when it would happen.
Finally, when I got sick of hand-washing my underwear only to have it ruined a couple of hours later, I made a trip to my apartment while Vaughn went to one of his worksites for some important concrete thing.
His subcontractors had screwed him over, and he needed to go there to fix…
something… I didn’t really know. I’d tried to listen when he told me about it, but he hadn’t been wearing a shirt and I’d gotten distracted by his chest. He’d noticed, and I’d ended up bent over the side of the couch.
Although my apartment was clean and much bigger than the studio a couple of floors below, walking into it still felt like waking up from a perfect dream.
Then my phone buzzed. I smiled as I dug through my purse, thinking that Vaughn hadn’t been able to go more than a couple of hours without speaking to me.
I could relate; I’d planned on sending him a message as soon as I’d showered properly.
But when I looked at my phone, it wasn’t Vaughn’s name that popped up.
The number wasn’t saved as a contact, but it didn’t take me long to figure out who it was. James had changed his number, apparently. I’d blocked his old one.
Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we saw each other.
I stared at the message, heart pounding. It felt like I’d just caught sight of a venomous snake in the corner of the room, and now I had to figure out how to get it out of my life.
I could delete the message, pretend it didn’t exist. The way he’d written “since we saw each other” made it sound like something other than running into each other in the lobby of a restaurant.
My phone buzzed again.
Miss you.
It buzzed again.
I want to talk to you, Alba. Can I see you?
I stared at those words, and my stomach turned.
A couple of weeks ago, that message would have sent me rushing back to him.
All the fantasies I’d had of running off and making a life together, just the two of us, would’ve come flooding back, and I would’ve jumped at the chance to make a fool of myself again.
Now…
I wanted to hurl my phone at the tile wall.
My hands trembled as I unlocked the phone and tapped my messaging app. The message sat in bold at the top of the list. My thumb hovered. I could swipe to delete. I could block him.
I could answer.
I chose to do none of those things. I tapped on the second number down: Deena’s. Within minutes of asking her if she was free, I had scheduled a date with her at the coffee shop. I got dressed, locked my apartment, and headed over.
She was waiting for me on that old velvet couch, her hair a wild mess of curls, her ears bejeweled with gold rings and studs, her clothing oversized and fabulously chic. She stood when I entered and said, “Get over here, you little horndog.”
I laughed, embarrassed, as a few heads turned. My new friend wrapped me in a hug and sat me down beside her, where I noticed there was a vanilla latte waiting.
“Thank you,” I told her, gesturing to the drink.
“I didn’t want to waste any time.” She smacked the side of my thigh. “Now. Start from the beginning. You and Vaughn…?”
Deena and I had been messaging back and forth ever since we met, so I’d told her about my adventures. She knew I was working for Vaughn and knew that I found him attractive. Now her eyes glimmered, and I worried she might be a bad influence on me.
I told her the whole sordid tale and ended by giving her my phone so she could read the messages from James.
“Are you sure it’s him?” she asked, eyes traveling from my phone screen to my face.
“Who else would it be?”
Deena bit her lip, and the skin below her teeth went white. Then she blew out a raspberry and shook her head. “Girl, this is a mess.”
I groaned and slumped on the couch. Unbidden, my mother’s voice echoed in my mind: Sit up straight, Alba. Cross your ankles. You look like a slob.
I’d shifted into a proper seated position before I even registered what I was doing—and then cursed myself. I couldn’t even have a conversation with a friend without being judged by the memory of my mother.
That’s when I noticed Deena was typing on my phone.
“What are you doing?” I screeched, reaching for the device.
Deena cackled, angling her body so I couldn’t grab the phone. “One second! I’m just answering him.”
“Stop! Don’t!”
My phone buzzed in her hands and she hummed, throwing me a mischievous look over her shoulder. Her thumbs flew over the screen.
“Deena,” I growled.
“Calm down,” she said, handing me my phone back, a giggle slipping through her lips.
I blinked at the screen. Three new messages had appeared in the chat: two from me (Deena), one from James.
Me
Sure, I’ll see you.
James
Time and place, babe. I’m there.
Me
When we’re both dead I’ll see you in hell. Asshole.
I slammed my phone down on the couch cushion beside me and slapped my hand over my face. Deena cackled, leaning her head against my shoulder. Despite my best efforts, a giggle slipped through my lips. Laughing would only encourage her…but then again, laughing felt good.
I smacked the back of my hand against the side of her thigh, and Deena laughed harder.
“You’re awful,” I complained.
“I’m awesome.”
“That too.” I grinned at her, shook my head, and leaned forward to take a bracing sip of my coffee.
I turned my phone around and took a peek at the screen.
There were three dots below my last message, indicating that James was typing.
Not wanting to hear anything else from him, I quickly tapped his number and blocked him. Then I let out a sigh.
Deena bumped me with her shoulder. “Good job.”
“Should’ve done that before handing my phone over to you.”
“But then you wouldn’t have the satisfaction of having the last word.” She beamed at me, then tilted her head. “So, more importantly, are you going to do it?”
My heart was still racing, so I couldn’t follow her thoughts. “Do what?”
“Go to that charity event?”
“The Noble Foundation Gala?”
Her eyes glimmered. “Sure. Why not?”
“Um, I can think of about ten thousand reasons right off the bat. Like for example all the people that will be there who know exactly what happened to me this past year.”
“And wouldn’t it feel so good to throw it in their faces?”
I crossed my legs and leaned back, not caring that the pose made me slouch against the busted-up back of the velvet sofa. Then I blinked at my friend. “Have I ever told you what a terrible influence you are?”
Deena smiled, looking decidedly evil. “I know. Isn’t it great?”