Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(26)

“I should stop.” River’s breath hitched when Vaughn arched his back, pressing his upper body into the provocative massage. “I’m…it’s probably just the memories making me…remembering…”

“The way you used to calm your buck down.” Vaughn’s tone was like gravel. “Petting me, whispering in my ear about how you love the body that keeps you safe. The body that can’t get enough of yours.”

Her thumbs met at his belly button, bearing down into the indentation, and Vaughn’s cock surged. “Yes,” River whispered.

The vulnerability in that single word sliced through the building lust, forcing Vaughn to focus. They were rapidly moving into a stage where he would become single minded in his need for River. But things weren’t completely right between them yet. Were they? It was so f*cking difficult to tell when she only showed flickers of the pain he’d caused. Over the phone that afternoon, she’d said no to a physical relationship and respecting that wish—respecting River—was something he couldn’t take lightly. Not if being part of his own family was his goal.

With incredible reluctance, Vaughn seized River’s wrists and ended the torturous massage of his abs. “Have to go. Before we do something that makes you hate me tomorrow.”

River gave a jerky nod, but it was impossible not to notice her flushed skin, the way her nipples were peaked beneath the thin, pink cotton shirt. “Okay. You’re right.”

When she stepped back, Vaughn fought the impulse to yank her close again. His body screamed that River belonged up against him, even as his mind believed the opposite. She didn’t belong anywhere near him. Never had. “Night, doll.”

Vaughn turned and all but limped to the front door, thanks to the nuclear warhead in his pants, but before he could open it, he heard River move. Heard her feet creak the floorboards. Vaughn didn’t face her, but closed his eyes and issued the most heartfelt of prayers that she would ask him to stay. That they wouldn’t damn their progress if they obeyed the commands of their bodies.

For the second time that night, Vaughn nearly collapsed, as River’s hands snaked around his sides and unsnapped the button of his jeans. “Don’t go.” She planted a kiss in the middle of his back while slowly lowering his zipper. “I know what I said…and I meant it. This can’t be about us. But the us won’t…”

“Won’t be ignored,” he managed. “Hell if I don’t know all about it, Riv.”

A puff of warm air drifted over the back of his neck. “I know it might complicate things, but I need to…”

His control severing, Vaughn pivoted on a heel and grabbed the sides of River’s face. “You need what? I’ll give it to you. As many times as you can handle.”

The blue of her eyes seemed to deepen. “I miss you begging me,” she whispered. “I miss being begged for…th-that one thing.”

“What one thing?”

Christ, he was almost shouting. Take it down a notch. As soon as he managed to focus on anything but ripping off that pink shirt of hers, he remembered, though. Begging River had never been necessary, except for…

“You want me in your mouth, doll?”





Chapter Eleven


Okay, so maybe River wasn’t thinking with her upstairs lady brain. But hell if it hadn’t always been this way between her and Vaughn. When one of them needed, the other provided. Loved providing that balance, fighting one another’s insecurities. So when she’d walked down the stairs and seen Vaughn all but vibrating with suppressed emotion? Everything feminine inside her reacted. A red-hot streak of lightning had hit its mark, spreading heat throughout her loins.

Never mind her heart. That traitorous organ had taken a backseat to something else achingly desperate. Maybe more so, at the moment. He’s mine to fix. Mine to balance. A responsibility her body took seriously, if the arousal slickening her flesh was any indication. Vaughn was staring at her mouth like a man obsessed, her lips swelling under that sexual acknowledgment. I want to be your salvation. I don’t care if it’s wrong. She hadn’t been lying. Forty-nine months and five days without being the one thing standing between a man—Vaughn—and utter bliss was apparently far too long.

“No,” River whispered, sliding her hand down his corrugated stomach into the opening of his jeans, finding his outrageously full erection and teasing it with light fingertips. “I want you to put yourself in my mouth.”

He stuffed a hand over his mouth to catch the erupting groan, those hips rocking in rude jerks toward her touch. When the guttural sound died down, he reached out and snagged her jaw. “Let’s get one thing straight first.” Excitement flashed in River’s blood when he got in her face, bringing them nose-to-nose. “You miss me begging you, River? Know this. Each moment I’m awake, every part of me begs for—”

Confusion invaded at the cracking of Vaughn’s voice, at his visible attempts to gather himself. It didn’t make sense. Or maybe it made perfect sense. Maybe the attraction had only ever been physical. In that moment, she could convince herself that suited her just fine. She’d worry about the rest later.

Unwilling to stray from the heat they’d kindled and venture into the dangerous territory of her memories, River ambled backward and slowly removed her T-shirt, pulse stuttering like crazy under Vaughn’s perusal. His manhood stood, proud and brutish, in the opening of his jeans, one of his hands hovering an inch away, as if he needed to stroke himself but held back. “Tell me you’re sure,” he demanded.