Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(18)

“Stop looking off to the side,” he grated. “You know damn well I’ll stay like this all night.”

“I don’t know anything about you anymore,” she said through her teeth.

Those words had the effect of a cheese grater rubbing up the back of his spine. “I’m the same man.” Only a shit ton lonelier and only half complete.

There she went, trying to evade his gaze again, so he pressed their foreheads together, keeping her head still on the pillow. A hint of challenge sparked in her baby blues, and he almost howled with relief. “The same man wouldn’t have stopped halfway through what we were doing,” she said.

“No, you’re right about that. One hundred percent.” Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, Vaughn rolled their lower bodies together, watched her eyes go glassy. “Let me try again. I’m the same man with a different perspective.”

“After you explain that nonsense, will you leave?”

He kissed her forehead so she wouldn’t see his smile, chock-full of pain though it was. “River…”

Knowing he better not f*ck up again tonight, he searched for the right words, even though speaking his thoughts out loud had never been his strong suit. And yeah, he rocked himself up against her * while he searched his brain, because Jesus, she was so warm. Probably slick into her panties, too.

Think. Or just tell the truth, *. “Men don’t always know what their thoughts mean. Especially me. Not all the way. But I know I felt selfish stroking while you watched. And I’ve been selfish enough where you’re concerned, doll.” Another, quicker, punch of his hips, which kicked a gasp up her throat. “It’s like, I never expected to have you so close again, and I was wasting it when I really needed to…give you the experience I was giving myself.”

Sometime during his speech, he had released the sides of River’s face, lifting her hands toward the headboard. The softening of her expression told Vaughn it was safe to release her eyes, and he dragged his attention down between their bodies to the naughty tits poking into his shirt. God, he wanted to feel them slide through his chest hair, but if he took his shirt off, there would be more questions tonight than he could handle.

“Let me get the taste of that * on my tongue,” he rasped into her neck. “That’s what I needed. Fuck, Riv, I couldn’t breathe around how bad I want to eat you. Still can’t. I felt that little rosebud through my pants today—up against your car—and I’m a sick man now. Am I imagining how bad it needs me?”

River jolted, her body arching underneath him, ripping a growl from his lips. “Vaughn…”

Taking a chance, he let his hands travel down the bed to hook beneath her knees. “Did you forget how filthy I am?”

“I must have—”

She broke off on a moan when he yanked up her legs, keeping them just an inch away from his hips on either side. “Say yes, huh, doll?” He slipped his tongue back and forth on his lower lip, watching River’s gaze go smoky. “My mouth needs some of this tight kitty.” He bucked against her twice. “Don’t keep them apart.”

“Okay, yes. Yes.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, proving she did remember what it was like having him between her thighs.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sliding his open mouth through the valley of her knockout tits on his way down, down. When he reached the perfect notch of River’s legs, nothing could stop him from pressing his face against the sweetness, breathing against the hindering cotton, kneading her calf muscles where he held them aloft. “Remember me?” he asked, fastening his panting mouth over the spot where her clit was, bathing the material with a lick. “I remember you. The hours of happiness you gave me. The misery you put me through. You were the church I prayed at on Sundays, weren’t you? You were my Virgin Mary.”

River’s fingers tangled in his hair, sending some form of sexual heroin through his veins. “Little l-less talking, please.”

Vaughn’s smile was wicked as he glided the panties down her elevated thighs, past her ankles and down to the floor, revealing his only chance at deliverance. “Oh Jesus.” He fell into her, lapping like a thirsty beggar, until he heard River’s hand slap back over her mouth and a muffled scream, the sound like diesel fuel being pumped into his tank. “Still so bare down here. Like your body doesn’t want to hide anything from me.” His thumb buffed her clit, up and back. “You have no idea what a f*cking deviant I felt like, waiting, waiting for eighteen…then taking your underwear off and finding you so bare. It was wrong how hard it got me, Riv.” He gripped his prick and started to jerk himself off. “But I’ve never been as rocked up as I am right now, knowing I’m getting the woman as well as the girl.”

“Please,” came the distorted cry from above, her knees falling open in a familiar signal that she was nearing the end of her patience. God knew he loved getting her halfway there with his dirty speech, but he also knew those fingers in his hair would grow abusive if he delayed any longer.

“Coming, doll.”

Vaughn secured River’s lower body against the bed, both heels pressed into his shoulders—God bless her flexibility—and f*ck, he just feasted. Thumbs pressing into her hipbones, he sank into the perfection of her taste. Lightness carried the top of his head up to the ceiling, the melody of her cries playing in his head like a symphony. He alternated between flicking his tongue against her clit and suckling the tiny bud, his middle finger working in and out of her. Beating off with the opposite fist was infinitely more satisfying than how they’d started out, because it was about River, too. About both of them.