“Fair point.” He straightens and gives me a raised eyebrow and a smile made for temptation. “Sure you want dinner now?” As he asks, he moves inside me once—as if he really is addicted and hates to abandon his new favorite thing—but before he can do anything more, his stomach rumbles again. Loud.
We both laugh, then I say firmly, “Dinner. Afterward we’ll see about more touching, kissing, and fucking.”
“Promise?” He phrases it as a question, but his smirk is too much. He’s a bad, bad boy, and he knows it. With one hand holding the base of the condom and one pressed almost protectively against my body, he gently pulls out. I miss his warmth immediately.
He picks up my dress and panties. When he hands them to me, his knuckles brush mine. Electricity skitters up my arm. Our gazes collide. I break eye contact first so we can right ourselves before sitting back down at the table. I’m pleasantly sore and have a hard time hiding my happiness, the corners of my mouth pulling up no matter how hard I try to keep my face neutral.
What just happened between us was magical. I’ve had years to imagine what it would be like to lose my virginity, and this far exceeded my dreams. Vaughn’s touch, his taste, his smell, flooded my senses, keeping me rooted in the single most intimate moment of my life. That we talked while we moved with each other heightened our connection. We may have just fucked, but it was more than a simple fuck. For that, I’ll always be grateful he was my first.
Vaughn steps over to the barbecue island to wash his hands in the small sink. He returns as I finish dressing and laces our fingers to lead me back to the sectional. He motions for me to sit first then takes the spot beside me. Energy continues to crackle between us as I spread some cheese on a slice of bread and take a bite. Wipe a crumb off my lip. Catch him watching me.
“I have some exciting news,” I say.
“Tell me.”
“I got a summer job.”
He makes a face in surprise, still managing to look incredibly hot. My body temperature spikes for a second, remembering the feel of him inside me.
“You’re looking at the assistant coordinator for Art In Progress, it’s this fantastic…” I babble for several minutes about the organization and what I’ve been up to since starting work there two days ago.
When I finally stop to take a breath, Vaughn leans over and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“You said the art exhibit is on Wednesday. Are you doing anything Thursday night?”
I pop a cheese square into my mouth. “Are you asking me out on another date?”
“I am. I’ve got passes to Laney Albright’s album release party, and I’m hoping you’ll go with me.”
My stomach tightens. A public date with the next possible host of America Rocks to celebrate last season’s winner is like walking down the street with a boa constrictor around my neck. All eyes will be on us. I twist the stem of my glass and try for a smile. “That’s really nice of you to ask, but I can’t.”
“You have plans already?”
“No. Honestly, and no offense, but I’d rather not be seen with you in public.” Tonight, I took a huge step away from trapped, conflicted Kendall. I’m moving forward. I need to keep moving forward, but I also want to keep my personal life private.
His eyebrows lift. “No offense, huh?”
“I’m sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant was you’re a celebrity, and with that comes media attention. I like to stay under the radar.”
He takes my hand in his. “There will be a lot of other high-profile people there. I’m not the main attraction.” His thumb rubs over my knuckles. “But I do have to go, and I leave town for a photo shoot Friday morning. I really want to spend time with you while I can. How about we skip the press gauntlet and sneak in?”
The soothing gesture of his thumb lowers my defenses, as does the subtle reminder our time together is limited. But still…“I know I sound paranoid, but all it would take is one picture of us on social media for people in my hometown to start rehashing my past, except this time their comments could find a broader audience. A part of me is always afraid of that kind of exposure. I’m not just worried about myself. I would hate for Mason and his parents to be put through it.”
“I understand, but I swear it won’t be an issue. This is an exclusive event, not a media free-for-all. Inside coverage of the actual party will be limited and focused almost entirely on Laney.” He turns my hand over, traces his finger across my palm. “I can’t see the future, but I don’t need that power to know nothing will happen Thursday night except we’ll listen to some new music, dance, schmooze a few of the America Rocks producers—if they show—and hopefully congratulate Laney. It should be a fun event, but it will be infinitely more fun if you join me.
“Besides,” he adds, as if he doesn’t know I’m already a big puddle of yes, “how can you leave Los Angeles without attending a Hollywood VIP event with your good friend Vaughn?”
Is that the turn we’ve taken? Friends—good friends—with temporary benefits? It rings a little hollow, but it also puts my concerns into perspective. I’m not a permanent part of Vaughn’s life, and he’s not a fixture in mine. So, is there really any harm in experiencing the excitement of his world for a few hours? “Okay.”
I barely get the word out before his handsome face is inches from mine. His lips graze the shell of my ear. “Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“On one condition. You come to my exhibit on Wednesday.”
His grin is blindingly white. “Deal. That takes care of Wednesday and Thursday, but right now I’m more interested in tonight. I hope you’re okay with staying over, because I’m not done yet,” he says. “Not by a long shot.”
Dizziness fills my head and without any hesitation I say, “I’m not done, either.”