Wardrobe Malfunction(33)

“I’ll just call you West.” She shrugs.

“Or you could call me Big Dick. Rock-Hard Cock.”

“Makes Me Wet West,” she chimes in, laughing.

The sound rolls through me, making me laugh, too.

“Did you used to call me that?” I tease.

“Of course not!” she says.

But she won’t meet my eyes, and I instantly know she’s lying.

“Tell the truth.” I tickle her side.

She cries out, squirming beneath me, rubbing against my cock, and it feels amazing.

“I didn’t!” she squeals.

“Liar!” I tease, tickling her harder.

“Okay, okay!” she pants, breathless, and I stop tickling. “Once. I called you it once.”

“I knew it! You’re a fangirl.”

“I am not a fangirl. You were just…nope, I can’t say it.” She covers her face with her hands.

I grab them and pull them away. Her face is bright red. Her reaction is hilarious, and I’m dying to know what’s making her so embarrassed.

Then, it clicks in my head.

“Pins…was I a sex toy in your mental spank bank?”

She groans, covering her face with her hands again, turning her face into the pillow.

“I was, wasn’t I?”

She groans again louder. “Ugh! This is fucking mortifying!”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” I laugh. “I’m not. I’m used to being a sexual plaything for women.”

She pulls her hands from her face and frowns at me. Then, she grabs the pillow beside her and hits me with it. “Ugh, you’re a jerk!”

I laugh again, and it feels good. She feels good. Better than good. She feels incredible.

I grab the pillow from her and toss it aside. “Aw, Pins…” I turn her back to me, holding her hands down. “If it makes you feel any better, I spent the better part of last night jerking off to thoughts of you.”

Her hips shift under mine. “You did?”

“Mmhmm.” I bring my mouth down to hers, softly kissing her. “And I came so fucking hard. But, baby, nothing could’ve prepared me for the real thing. Being inside you…I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

“Me neither,” she whispers.

And I feel like a fucking king.

I shift, pressing my cock against her wet pussy, and it feels like heaven.

I rock my hips upward, my cock sliding between her lips, and I wonder how it would feel to be bare inside her. I’ve never gone bare inside a woman—ever.

Charly groans the sexiest sound I’ve heard leave her mouth so far, her eyes closing, head pressing back into the pillow.

I want her again. I want to be deep inside her. Buried in her all night.

But there’s something I need to say, something I tried to say before, and I don’t want to forget. But I also don’t want to piss her off. But it’s a risk I have to take.

But, being the selfish prick I am, I allow my cock another couple of slow slides over her soaked pussy.

“Pins…”

“Mmhmm?”

“I need to say something, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

The gentle movement of her body against mine stops, and her eyes open, wariness in them.

“We need to keep this between us,” I say the words in the least dickish way possible.

“No worries. I wasn’t exactly going to broadcast that we had sex, West.”

I should be relieved she agreed so easily, but it still prickles at me.

“Oh, thanks!” I laugh. “You know, there are women who would be more than happy to tell the world they fucked me.”

“But isn’t that why you chose me? Because you know you can trust me?”

Her expression is so earnest, and I realize that I do trust her.

But I didn’t pick her.

I didn’t stand a fucking chance against her. From the moment I met her, this was always inevitable. We were always going to have sex, no matter how hard I fought it. Not that I fought it very hard.

“I trust you,” I tell her, my fingers brushing her hair from her forehead.

She takes hold of my hand and places a kiss to the palm. “Thank you. But it’s fine, Vaughn. You told me earlier about what you had agreed with Jack, and I get it. I do.”

“It’s not just for me though. I don’t want you thinking I’m a selfish prick who wants to keep you hidden for my own agenda. If people knew that you and I had sex, the press would be in your business before you knew it. Asking questions, offering you money for details of our night together, digging into your life. We’d be married, and you’d be pregnant with my baby by the end of the week, if they had anything to do with it.”

Something flickers through her eyes. Worry, dismay. I’m not sure, and it’s gone before I can catch hold of it. But I worry that she thinks I just want her for this one night. That’s not the case. One night is nowhere near enough to cover what I’m feeling for her right now. How insanely bad I want her.