Chapter 11
Vaughn’s behavior at the office had shifted after our dinner, though not in the way I had hoped.
He was calmer, more measured in his dealings with me, but the undercurrent of obsession remained.
It was in the way his hand would linger on my shoulder during meetings, the way he’d brush his fingers against mine when passing a document.
These touches seemed casual, almost accidental, but I knew better.
Each one was deliberate, a silent reminder that he was never far from my thoughts, or my skin.
Despite his attempts to maintain a facade of normalcy, I knew Vaughn was seeing other women—many of them, in fact.
He flaunted his flings, making sure I was aware of every new conquest. Yet, even as he paraded his dates in front of me, his focus never truly left.
It was as if he was trying to make me jealous, to provoke a reaction, but I refused to give him the satisfaction.
I had reluctantly stepped into society, hosting garden parties and teas for the wealthy ladies of Windmere Haven. It wasn’t a role I ever envisioned for myself, but it was necessary. These women no longer looked down on me; they knew I wielded power, and they craved my favor.
One afternoon, as I stood on the terrace of the mansion, overseeing the preparations for yet another garden party, Vaughn appeared at my side. His sudden presence made my skin prickle, though I tried to suppress the reaction.
“Another social event, Joey?” Vaughn asked, his voice smooth, but with an edge that I couldn’t quite place.
I didn’t look at him, keeping my focus on the workers arranging flowers in the garden. “It’s expected. These women need to be reminded that I’m here to stay.”
He chuckled softly, stepping closer, his arm brushing against mine. “And here I thought you despised this sort of thing.”
“I do,” I replied, a sharpness to my tone that I didn’t bother to mask. “But I despise weakness even more.”
Vaughn reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was so intimate, so familiar, that it made my stomach churn. “You’ve never been weak, Joey. That’s what I admire most about you.”
I turned to face him, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “Is that why you keep trying to break me?”
His expression faltered for a split second, something dark flickering in his eyes before he masked it with a smirk. “I’m not trying to break you. I’m just reminding you that you’re not invincible.”
Before I could respond, the first guests began to arrive, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Vaughn stepped back, giving me space, but his presence was still heavy, a weight I couldn’t shake.
The garden party unfolded as these things always did—superficial conversations, forced smiles, and endless small talk.
But today, I found it particularly exhausting.
The women who had once snubbed me were now vying for my attention, eager to align themselves with my power.
It was a game, and I was tired of playing.
As the afternoon wore on, I excused myself, retreating to the library for a moment of solitude. The sun filtered through the glass, casting warm patterns on the floor, but even the tranquility of the room couldn’t ease the tension knotting in my chest.
I wasn’t alone for long. The sound of footsteps behind me made me stiffen, and I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Vaughn’s presence was unmistakable.
“Can’t get enough of the party?” I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.
“I came to check on you,” he replied, his tone almost tender. “You seemed… overwhelmed.”
“I’m fine,” I said curtly, walking to the windows and staring out at the garden where my guests convened.
Vaughn moved closer, too close, and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. “You don’t have to do this, you know. These people—they don’t deserve your time.”
I clenched my fists, the words he spoke feeding into the anger I’d been trying to suppress. “What I do or don’t do isn’t your concern, Vaughn. You made it clear you don’t care about anything but your own desires.”
His hand brushed against my arm, a featherlight touch that made my skin crawl. “That’s not true. I care about you, Joey. More than you know.”
I whipped around, putting distance between us. “If you really cared, you’d stop. You’d let me live my life without constantly hovering, without trying to control me.”
His expression hardened, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something colder. “I’m not trying to control you. I just don’t want you to forget who you are.”
I laughed, the sound bitter and humorless. “Oh, I know exactly who I am. The question is, do you?”
Vaughn stared at me for a long moment, his jaw clenched. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest.
I watched him go, feeling a mixture of relief and frustration. He would never stop, I realized. Vaughn’s obsession with me ran too deep, and no matter how many women he paraded in front of me, no matter how many times he claimed to care, he would always come back.
But I wouldn’t let him wear me down. Not now, not ever.
I navigated through the website, my fingers moving with a kind of restless energy, not entirely sure what I was looking for.
But I knew I needed something—something to fill the void that had been growing since Colson's death. It had been months since he passed, and those last weeks of his life had been devoid of any physical connection. The longing I felt wasn’t just for him, but for the intimacy, for the touch that reminded me I was still alive.
My eyes skimmed over the categories until they landed on a page labeled Vibrators.
My heart skipped a beat, and I paused, feeling a mix of curiosity and something close to shame.
But the need was there, a quiet ache that refused to be ignored.
I clicked on the link, my interest piqued as the images loaded, each one a promise of relief, of a momentary escape from the emptiness that had settled around me like a second skin.
I scrolled through the options, studying them carefully, imagining how each one might feel, how they might help me forget, if only for a little while.
Then I found it—the perfect one. Sleek, discreet, powerful.
It wasn’t just about satisfaction; it was about reclaiming a piece of myself, about reminding myself that I could still feel pleasure, that I wasn’t entirely numb.
I hesitated only briefly before entering my information, my fingers trembling slightly as I typed out the address for the triplex.
The last thing I needed was Vaughn discovering the package.
He was already too close, too intrusive.
I wouldn’t put it past him to invade my privacy, to snoop through my things.
And if he knew I had resorted to this, if he knew I had found a way to satisfy my desires without him, it would only fuel his obsession. He’d see it as a challenge, a reason to intensify his efforts to lure me into his bed.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, but I pushed it aside. This was my choice, my control over a part of my life that had been slipping through my fingers ever since Colson’s death. Vaughn had taken enough from me. This was something I could keep for myself, something he couldn’t touch.
I clicked Confirm Purchase, a small rush of adrenaline coursing through me as the order went through.
It was a simple act, but it felt like a rebellion, a way to reclaim my body, my desires, my agency.
As the confirmation screen appeared, I leaned back in my chair, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
For now, this was enough.
It was perfect.
I tore open the box in the privacy of my bedroom at the triplex.
With Easton out for the evening, I finally had the space to indulge in what I'd been craving for weeks. My stomach fluttered with anticipation, a sensation I hadn’t felt in far too long.
Masturbation had become a regular thing again, but nothing compared to the way Colson had made me feel.
After him, my own touch was never quite enough.
I needed something more.
I carefully removed the navy blue silicone vibrator from the box, its sleek design promising the release I desperately sought.
I carried it to the bathroom, washing it under warm water as I mentally prepared myself for what was to come.
By the time I emerged, my panties were damp with anticipation, and I wasted no time slipping them off.
My dress and bra followed quickly, hitting the floor in a heap before I lay back on my bed, the cool sheets a contrast to the heat building inside me. The vibrator made a slight buzzing noise as I turned it on, then off, testing it.
I bit my lip, already imagining the relief it would bring.
Sliding it inside me, I winced at the initial discomfort—months had passed since I had anything inside me.
But the discomfort quickly faded as I bent the top part of the vibrator, pressing it firmly against my swollen clit.
My breath caught as I flicked the switch, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through me.
My fists clenched the sheets as the sensation overwhelmed me, euphoria crashing over me like a tidal wave.
It hit all the right spots, my G-spot and clit working in tandem, pushing me toward the edge.
My back arched involuntarily as I moaned, the sound echoing in the emptiness of my room.
Jesus, it felt so fucking good. The orgasm built rapidly, a powerful wave that threatened to consume me.
When it finally hit, it was one of the most intense releases of my life.
I thrashed on the bed, the sheets twisting in my grip, my chest heaving with exertion as I rode out the final tremors.
With trembling hands, I turned off the vibrator but left it nestled inside me, craving another round when I recovered. I was lost in the afterglow when—
“Joey?”