Reveal (Wicked Ways #2)(43)

He’s gorgeous in so many ways it hurts to think about it.

“At some point, we need to talk about the senator, Vaughn.” He turns to look at me again, the playful smile from moments ago replaced with a measured intensity.

“No.”

“We do. We need to figure out how to deal with him so you can stop worrying.”

“Please, not now.” I force a smile to my lips despite the anxiety the mention of Carter Preston brings to me. “Please don’t ruin the night . . . morning . . . whatever this was.”

“It’s a date.”

“Yes. Our date. Everything about it was perfect. I just . . .” I look out the window as I try to find the words to explain what I need to say, suddenly shy from his unwavering attention. “I just need to be Vaughn right now. The sad little girl and confused twentysomething like I was before I had to be Vee. I need you to like Vaughn, to be okay with her and everything that comes with her . . . because that’s who I really am.”

“Hey.” I don’t turn to look his way as he steps beside me. “Vaughn?” The dip of the bed. The feel of his finger moving my chin so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “While ball-busting Vee intrigues the hell out of me, it’s you I always see, Vaughn. Just you.”

He leans in and kisses me. The reassurance I find in this most intimate of acts is almost unnerving. The need to want him to give me the assurance even more so. My hands slide up the firm planes of his chest, then up over his shoulders before sliding down his back and then dipping below his waistband.

“Uh-uh,” he warns with a chuckle as his hands lock over my wrists and prevent me from grabbing what is within inches of my reach before he abruptly stands from the bed.

My lips still tingling from his kiss, I look at him like he’s crazy. “What do you mean, uh-uh?” I ask. “I thought you were thrilled that my parents were out of town so you could lure me to your house with promises of a big party. And then I’d pretend to be shocked when I arrived to find no party, just an empty house with you drenched in cologne asking me if I wanted to see your big, cozy bed.”

“Jesus,” he says through a laugh. “I’d love to see what else that imagination of yours thinks up”—he adjusts his grip on my wrists when I try to show him—“but not right now.”

Something I’m not quite used to hits harshly: rejection.

My face must show it because his smile widens and he shakes his head ever so slightly as he meets my eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to take things slow with you.”

“What?” I all but laugh the word out.

“The first time we met face-to-face, it ended with my fingers slick in your pussy.” He quirks a brow as his smile turns suggestive. “And while I’m all for that—man, am I all for that—I think we started off on the wrong foot. We started off expecting sex and then nothing more.”

“And now you’re expecting . . . ?”

I can see him mentally chastising himself for turning down sex. It’s in the way he shifts to readjust his raging hard-on. In the way he takes in a deep breath and looks away from me for a moment to see if he can keep his restraint intact.

When he looks back, the gold in his eyes burns with a desire he’s trying to deny and that I’m all for igniting. “And now I want to do this right.”

And if there was one thing he could have said to surprise me and knock the defiance to prove him wrong out of me, it was that.

“Right?” My heart constricts in my chest.

“Yes. Right.” He struggles with words, with the intensity of the conversation that I’m sure neither of us expected, but the tension in my hands to resist his grip eases. “I’ve messed a lot of things up, and I think you’ve had a lot of things messed up for you in your life. You, Vaughn Sanders, deserve to have something done right for you.”

“Oh.” It’s all I can say, because everything about this late-night, early-morning date has been unexpected, just like my feelings for him have been.

“So are you going to let me do this for you? Because I’ve gotta admit, it’s proving a hell of a lot harder to keep my hands off you than I thought it would be.”

Thud. My heart can’t fall many more times for him, or else it’s going to end up battered and bruised from being offered.

This man. What in the hell is he doing to me?

I look up at him through my lashes, a coy smile on my lips, because even though I’m not going to fight him, I sure as hell am not going to make this easy on him. “So what’s this called on our scale of right?”

“Our scale of right?”

“Yes. Is this considered our first date?” I lick my bottom lip and watch him take notice.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

“Does that mean I’m going to get a first good night kiss?”

“I wouldn’t want to deprive you of that, now would I?” A shy smile lights up his face.

“But I’m in your bed. Most first good night kisses do not happen anywhere near your date’s bed.”

“You suck at pretending, Vaughn.” He laughs, but then before I can prepare myself, he has me lifted over his shoulder, ass stuck in the air.

“What are you doing? Stop! Put me down!”