Hot Stuff

CHAPTER NINE

ANNABELLE TINGLED. She shook all over. And she was this close to making love with Brandon Vaughn. Oh, she could get used to this. So very easily. Too easily considering her past had taught her to know better. So for now, she just wanted to make sure she savored every moment of this experience. Just in case it never happened again.

He eased his finger beneath the teddy and began to torment her with exquisite friction. He ran his finger back and forth, his roughened skin arousing her already sensitized flesh. She grew hotter and wetter, cresting waves building inside her. Her hips pivoted in time to his rhythm and she arched her back, seeking harder, deeper contact.

"Slow down, baby." He slipped one finger deep inside her body. "I have every intention of giving you what you want. I just plan to prolong the pleasure first." As he spoke, his cheek snuggled against hers, his breath warm as it fanned the side of her face.

Pleasure or torture? she wondered. Then, deciding he needed to suffer, too, she reached between them and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers so she could grasp his long, hard length in her hand.

His groan of agony told her she'd accomplished her goal. "Still want to go slow?" she teased, gliding her palm up and down his shaft while her thumb caressed his moist tip. She ached for him to fill her completely, longed to feel every silken ridge as he thrust deep inside-

"Do you know what happens to bad girls who play with fire?" he asked as he rose and peeled off his shorts. A smile on her lips, she helped him until he stood before her, completely nude.

If Brandon Vaughn fully dressed was a sight to behold, this sight literally sucked the air out of her lungs. Her heart beat out a rapid rhythm as she took in the sight of the swollen, thick arousal she'd caused.

Turning her attention to the teddy she didn't want on her body one moment longer, she eased the flimsy silk down over her hips, revealing herself to this man in the most intimate way.

His stare never wavered. He watched, eyes dilated with hunger and need. Every last vestige of uncertainty and embarrassment was swept away in the heat of his appreciative gaze.

"What happens to bad girls?" she asked coyly, tossing the garment over the side of the bed.

"They get burned," he said and with the smooth grace of an athlete, he tackled her, tumbling her flat on the mattress, his body entangled with hers.

She shut her eyes and savored the feel of his hard body covering hers and she spread her legs, letting him settle in between. Needing more, she clenched her thighs around him tightly.

Vaughn gritted his teeth but a low growl escaped anyway. He couldn't wait another minute and from the way she writhed beneath him, neither could she.

She raised her arms above her head, which had her arching her back and pushing her chest toward him. Unable to resist, he lowered his head and captured one taut nipple in his mouth. He teased her with his tongue, nipped and grazed with his teeth. All the while she rolled her hips beneath him, damp, moist, and silently begging him to take her.

And he planned to. He reached into his nightstand drawer for protection.

"Always prepared," she said, her gaze following his movements. "I'd never have pegged you for a Boy Scout."

Her voice was light and teasing, but for a split second he thought he caught a hint of something more in her gaze. Something akin to wondering if she was one of many. Normally he didn't bring women home with him, an unwritten rule that went along with his distrust of females.

Yet he'd done both with Annabelle and for that reason he wanted to answer her unasked question now. "I bought these after you came to stay."

Her gaze softened. "I don't know whether to be flattered or mortified you think I'm easy."

He chuckled. "Baby, there's nothing easy about you " He sheathed himself with unsteady hands and as her gaze held his, he spread her thighs and drove himself hard and deep inside.

He'd expected it to be good. Hell, he'd even anticipated fantastic. But what he felt now was unbelievable. She was soft and moist, warm and wet and as she drew her legs upward, pulling him impossibly further into her body, spiraling sensations of ecstasy swamped him from every angle.

He slid out, then in, picking up a rhythm that brought him faster and faster to the brink. She moaned and met his even thrusts with a rotating of her hips that ground her mound against him.

Her pelvic muscles contracted, tighter and tighter as her breath against his neck came faster. He drew a deep breath and thrust in more rapid succession.

"Vaughn." She cried out his name at the same time she came, her body milking his as the spasms hit and continued, triggering a shattering climax of his own.

"Don't stop," she urged, the rapid clenching and rotation of her hips continuing as she dug her nails into his back and her climax slowly subsided.

His own had been so powerful, he collapsed against her, cheek to cheek, her breasts crushed against his chest and her heart beating rapidly in time with his own.

ANNABELLE AWOKE after a full night's sleep feeling more rested and secure than she could ever remember being. As awareness came to her, she realized she lay in Vaughn's bed, his arms wrapped around her holding her tight. That was a good realization.

She hadn't dreamed last night, not that she remembered, anyway, which marked a milestone because she always dreamed. Always woke up in a heated sweat because in some form, she heard the social worker's words threatening to separate her from her sisters. No man she slept with had ever vanquished that nightmare, no friendships, no matter how strong, had ever replaced the bond with her sisters. A bond formed not because of family but because of a fear of loss.

Yet one night with Brandon Vaughn and she'd let those demons go, at least for this one time. And that wasn't a positive realization because Annabelle had promised she wouldn't invest any part of herself in this relationship. She refused to let her subconscious mind contradict her well-laid plans.

She turned her head to find Vaughn, eyes open, watching her. Her stomach did a flip at the sight of him, face stubbled, hair messed and utterly sexy.

"Morning," she mumbled, trying not to give thought to how awful she must look right now, the morning after they'd made love twice, each time more explosive and bonding than the last. The morning after he'd confided his deepest secret, trusted her to know about him what few people did.

Still she wasn't about to turn this into a fairy tale. Light and easy was the best course. "I can't believe I slept here."

He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, the caress so gende a lump formed in her throat.

"As I recall, I asked you to."

He had, when she'd gotten up to let the animals out for a quick walk, with thoughts of sneaking back into her own bed dogging her. But he'd told her to hurry back and when she had, Boris had followed her into the room and naturally so had the cat, which she'd named Spike because of the short hairs standing up on her head. The dog now slept at the foot of the bed and the cat peered at her from the top of Vaughn's pillow.

"For the record, I'm glad I did." He confirmed his words with a long, deep, leisurely kiss that aroused her naked body all over again.

But Annabelle was determined to keep the morning light and carefree, to prove to herself and to Vaughn that last night was nothing more than a one-night stand. Or in guy terms, an easy lay. She winced at the notion, but forced a smile. "What do you say I put something together for breakfast?" she asked, sliding out of his arms and missing his warmth immediately.

He leaned back, arms crossed behind his head. "Dinner the other night, breakfast this morning. Careful or you'll spoil me." He winked in a way that made her feel all woman and uniquely special.

"Don't let it go to your head. You're just lucky I'm willing to include you in whatever I make." Ignoring her state of undress wasn't easy, but she stood and reached for the teddy she'd left on the floor. It'd seemed like a good idea last night but this morning she wished she had one of her jerseys to pull over her head.

As if reading her mind, he pointed to the dresser – behind her. "You can grab a jersey from the middle drawer."

She shot him a grateful smile and seconds later, fully covered, she felt much better. Less exposed. "F m going to let the animals out first and I'll call you when breakfast is on the table."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Can I ask you something first?"

He nodded warily.

"Did you call Laura back?"

He drew a deep breath, then exhaled. "Not yet."

"Well maybe you should." She hated advocating he establish contact with his ex-wife, but Annabelle knew his reluctance to get close to her emotionally was tied up with his ex. Resolution there could only help her. Though she wasn't so foolish as to harbor hope for more than this brief affair with him.

She turned to go.

"Annabelle."

She pivoted, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes?"

His gaze, velvety soft, met hers. Then he shook his head. "Nothing."

She sensed he'd been as affected by last night as she'd been, but couldn't find the words to explain. Or maybe he was afraid to because, as she thought, he needed closure. In many areas of his life.

Without it, a quickie relationship was all she could expect from him. But that didn't mean she wouldn't enjoy every second of her time here. And last night was just the beginning of their adventure.

VAUGHN WATCHED Annabelle leave. His name on the jersey she wore stared boldly at him as she took her leave, the animals trailing after her. He'd experienced a surreal night in many ways, from the mind-blowing sex they'd shared, to the trust he'd allowed her by confiding his deepest secret and fear, to the connection he'd felt while buried deep inside her.

Sex was nothing new to Vaughn, though he'd become more discriminating and careful with age. Feeling while doing it was something else. And man, he'd felt last night with Annabelle.

But he refused to let himself be suckered by emotion. If he needed any proof as to why, he had only to look to Laura. Which was why he'd stopped himself just now, before he'd said something stupid to Annabelle. Something mushy. Something that indicated last night had been about more than a mutually satisfying lay.

He reached over and picked up the phone, then punched in the numbers on the paper on his night-stand.

The phone rang twice before Laura answered. "Hello?"

Her voice irritated him and he clenched his jaw. "I got a message that you called."

"Brandon, how are you? It's been too long."

He folded his arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling. "Actually it hasn't been long enough. What do you want?"

"Can't I just call to say hello?"

He exhaled hard. "Do me a favor. Tell me what you want or I'm hanging up now"

"Money," she said quickly. "I need money."

He narrowed his gaze. "You got plenty in the settlement agreement and the bars should be throwing off enough to satisfy even you."

Silence followed for a while before she spoke again. "It's not easy to admit this but I've run up some pretty high credit card balances. I need help or I wouldn't be asking. I mean do you think it's easy for me to come to you?"

"No, I'm sure it isn't. I need to think about it, okay?" As much as he resented Laura and everything she stood for, he couldn't help but think how desperate she sounded.

"You're such a doll, Brandon."

"Not exactly the words you used last time we spoke," he reminded her.

She laughed. "Things said in the heat of the moment, you know what I mean? Listen, I'm glad we can put the past where it belongs."

Had he said he'd forgive and forget? As usual, she heard what she wanted to.

"I really do have to go. Don't forget to call and let me know. I'll be forever in your debt, Brandon. I really will."

She hung up before he could reply, which was a good thing since he really didn't want her owing him a damn thing.

From his quiet room, he heard the sounds of Annabelle puttering around, making herself at home in his kitchen. After tossing off the covers, he rose from the bed and pulled on his jeans. He told himself he was going for breakfast and then heading to work, a day no different than any other.

Except he'd be coming home tonight knowing he could make love with Annabelle again, and again if he wanted to. Not even talking with Laura could dim the thrill that thought caused.

So by the time he'd taken a quick shower and headed to the kitchen, he had a dumbass grin on his face and looked forward to the day in a way he hadn't in a long while.

Not even the persistent ringing of the telephone, the caller ID showing his parents* number, could change his good mood. Especially since he'd made the decision to ignore anything having to do with his mother or father, determined to put them and their persistent negativity out of his mind.

He strode into the room and settled himself in a chair beside Annabelle. He glanced at her breakfast choice, surprised. "Cold cereal?" he asked.

Annabelle raised an eyebrow. "What? You were expecting pancakes? Eggs? Waffles maybe?" She shook her head, laughing. "This is as good as it gets in the morning so you'd better get used to it." Her eyes opened wide as she caught her words. "I mean, this is as good as it gets. Period."

"Hey, cereal and milk is fine with me." He ignored the slip-up because everything from her actions to her relaxed smile told him she was comfortable with what had happened between them, and that she didn't expect anything more than this.

They were on the same wavelength, and things couldn't get any better, he thought.

"Are things quiet at the lodge?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'm paying the crews overtime to work weekends, but if it helps us fix the problems and open on time, it's fine with me."

She stirred her soggy Lucky Charms with her spoon. "Look, I've been thinking about the PR and the summer camp you have planned. I understand you're a private person, but there are subtle ways you can help kids with dyslexia to work with their problems all year round." She raised her gaze slowly, obviously unsure if she'd touched a nerve by bringing up the subject.

He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He'd promised himself he'd give her the tools to do her job and not get angry or defensive, but he had to admit, defensive was still his gut instinct, especially after just talking with Laura.

"You had time between last night and this morning to think things through? I must not have kept you busy enough," he said, half joking, half filled with hope she'd halt the discussion.

"Guess you'll just have to try harder." She shrugged and his jersey slipped off one shoulder, revealing bare skin. Whether the move was intentional or not, his body temperature spiked another notch. A smile pulled at her lips. "Now stop trying to get me to change the subject."

He groaned. "Okay, what'd you have in mind?" he forced himself to ask.

"You're a successful businessman and a famous athlete, much as I hate to admit that and boost your already huge ego. But think what the revelation would mean to struggling kids who already look up to you."

"No. I am not doing some exposé on my life." He slashed a hand through the air to emphasize his point.

She pursed her lips in a pout, probably one she hoped he couldn't deny. "Just think about the kids who are too ashamed to admit they have problems and fall through the cracks because of it." Her cereal forgotten, her voice held a pleading edge.

"What I think about are the repercussions at home when you admit you can't learn like everyone else."

"Better to struggle?" she asked, frustration in her voice.

"Better to pretend you just don't like school than to be laughed at for being stupid."

"Then why offer the camp? Why give kids a place to come if you think it's going to stigmatize them?"

He leaned forward on his elbows. "The camp will give any struggling child, dyslexic or otherwise, an opportunity to even the odds of succeeding."

"An equal opportunity camp for delinquents and kids with disabilities alike, huh?" She shook her head. "I don't buy your theory. You're assuming your experience with your parents is the way all families will react to dyslexia or other disabilities. Are you suggesting kids shouldn't be diagnosed at all?"

"I'm suggesting that I don't force the issue. I'd rather give kids a place to come where they can experience the freedom of learning in a nonjudgmental environment, no matter what their problems or issues are."

She pushed her cereal away and rolled her eyes. "Sounds so good, you're definitely full of it. In fact, it sounds like you're running and not just from your parents' reaction." She rose and stood in front of him, her face inches from his. "Who else hurt you, Vaughn? Was it your ex-wife? Is that why you haven't called her back?"

He narrowed his gaze, unable to believe she was this feisty, this frustrating, this gutsy. That she would push him so far angered him beyond belief. But damned if it didn't turn him on, too. "As a matter of fact, I just did call her back."

"Oh."

"She wanted to borrow money."

Annabelle blinked. "I see. So was it her?" she asked softly. "Was Laura the one who hurt you and made you close yourself off?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, though he was afraid she did. Afraid that once again, she'd dug into his psyche and understood him too well.

The truth was that as much as he wanted to help kids like him, he really was afraid to put himself out there for public scrutiny because then he'd risk rejection. Vaughn might have gotten help with reading but it was the psychological scars that remained.

"Okay I'll stop pushing. Just think about it," Annabelle said into the silence, her lips so close he could almost taste her.

Last time he'd agreed to think, he'd opened up and admitted his dyslexia. He feared with Annabelle here, he'd end up doing the same thing again and suffer public humiliation as a result. So instead of answering, he merely inclined his head slightly.

She grinned. "I'll take that as a yes. Now kiss me."

He blinked, surprised but definitely not opposed to her directive. "That won't solve our differences," he reminded her.

"Maybe not, but it'll sure feel good."

He laughed, breaking the tension. She had a way of doing that, easing his mind, making him feel good.

But just when he was about to kiss her, the damn doorbell rang.

"What is it with this place?" she asked. "Phone calls, door bells, interruptions galore. It's like Grand Central Station." She tucked her hair behind her ear and inclined her head toward the entry.

He hit the intercom button on the phone near the wall. "Who is it?"

"I should have known you'd be too damn lazy to answer the door yourself. No wonder you're getting old and flabby. Get the hell out here and let me inside," Yank Morgan ordered with the ferocity of a drill sergeant and a man used to getting his way.

At the sound of the older man's voice, Vaughn's stomach plummeted. "Were you expecting him?" he asked Annabelle.

Eyes wide, she shook her head. "No, but I'm going to get dressed while you let him in."

"Good idea." The last thing Vaughn wanted was to have Yank Morgan stroll in and realize it was the morning after Vaughn had had sex with his niece,

Yank's nieces were his pride and joy. If the man found out Vaughn had slept with Annabelle, no commitment involved, he'd have Vaughn's hide. Bottom line, he'd cut him out of his life again. And that was the last thing Vaughn wanted. He ran a hand through his hair, unable to believe he'd forgotten the main reason to steer clear of Annabelle.

Resigned, he headed to the front door to let his guest inside. Yank appeared scruffier than usual and more tired than Vaughn remembered seeing him in the city.

Added to that, this visit wasn't planned and Vaughn grew concerned. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, gesturing for Yank to come inside.

"Can't a man visit his niece without you asking one hundred questions?"

He narrowed his gaze. Was it his imagination or did Yank seem crankier than usual? "At last count, I asked you one question only and not an unreasonable one considering how far you drove to show up on my doorstep." He placed a hand on the older man's back and guided him to the large living area he used for his infrequent company. "So what gives?"

Yank settled himself on the sofa and motioned for Vaughn to do the same. Then he leaned close. "If I tell you, you can't tell Annie."

So something was wrong. His stomach cramped but he forced a casual shrug. He'd just resolved to steer clear of the woman. How hard would it be to keep Yank's secret? "Since when do I share things with anyone?"

Since Annabelle came the silent answer. But whatever Yank told him would remain between them. He had no choice. "You have my word."

Yank cracked his knuckles as he admitted, "The doctor says my eyesight's going."

Forget his stomach, now Vaughn's head began pounding, too. "Going as in…"

Yank slapped his hand over Vaughn's eyes like a blindfold. "As in can't see a damn thing."

He dropped his hand and Vaughn blinked to refocus. For a split second, Yank's face showed all the fear he'd been hiding, before he covered his emotions with an expressionless mask once more.

Vaughn had been in a similar position to Yank, faced with a huge loss when he'd shattered his knee. So he knew better than to offer pity or condolences. He also knew what it cost the older man to open up, and it showed that no matter how many years had passed since they'd been close, the bond remained. It would strengthen as Vaughn helped Yank through this tough time. But if Yank found out about his one-night stand with Annabelle, both men stood to lose.

Vaughn swallowed hard and focused on not pitying Yank now. "Dare I ask how you plan to keep this secret once you start walking into walls?"

Yank let out a gruff laugh. "Well, that may take a while. Macular degeneration doesn't always progress quickly. Time'll tell. In the meantime, I had to get away from Lola before she drove me insane."

"She knows?"

Yank rubbed a hand over his full beard. "She knew before I did, or at least she sensed it. First she dragged me to the dang doctor, then she read all the literature. Next thing I know she's buying little items just in case."

"Such as?"

Yank placed his hand on his wristwatch and pressed a button. "It's 11:15 a.m.," a digital voice announced.

Vaughn stifled a laugh.

"She's made all kinds of crazy changes so I can get used to things before my sight goes," Yank continued, in a poor imitation of his assistant.

Vaughn inclined his head and tried not to grin. "I take it you think she's overreacting?"

"Is she a female?" Yank asked wryly. "You wouldn't believe what she's been up to."

"I can only imagine." Vaughn wondered what Lola was doing to take care of this stubborn man.

"Imagine what?" Annabelle asked, joining them in the family room.

Vaughn glanced up. She'd changed into a pair of plaid boxers and a solid red, body hugging T-shirt. Simple and sexy enough to have him drooling. To have him dreaming of repeating last night over and over and over again.

He shook his head hard. "Yank was just explaining his newest challenge," Vaughn said.

The older man nodded. "It's Lola. She's gone over the edge."

"How so?" Annabelle settled in beside her uncle, curling her legs beneath her and propping her chin in her hands. The love beaming from her eyes spoke volumes.

She'd want to know about her uncle's condition, Vaughn thought. Heck, she deserved to know. But it wasn't his place to spill that truth, nor would he break a promise. Still, the warmth in her eyes had Vaughn wishing for things he'd never have. Things like unconditional love and acceptance.

"Damn woman's become loose. Wearing tight-fitting pants, high heels, low-cut tops." His cheeks flamed at his description. "Lola, of all people."

Annabelle's eyes opened wide. "And this bothers you?"

"Hell yes, it bothers me!"

"Pardon me, but I don't understand the problem. The ultimate bachelor is having issues because his beautiful secretary is coming on to him?"

Vaughn could see Annabelle struggle not to let loose with laughter.

"Bite your tongue, Annabelle Jordan. I didn't say anything about her coming on to me. But she's been dressing and acting different." He narrowed his gaze. "And you automatically figured she's making moves on me. That tells me you must've instigated the change."

Annabelle rolled her eyes. "I did not! Though I have to admit I applaud Lola's determination."

"You see, Vaughn? The women are ganging up on me."

Annabelle's amused gaze shot to him and he forced a shrug. Since he'd vocally advocated Lola flaunting her assets, he opted to shut his mouth now. Besides he liked seeing the older man squirm and if Lola finally decided to give him a run for his money, and at a time when he needed a distraction, Vaughn was all for it.

"I think you can handle whatever life throws your way, Yank," Vaughn said with a deliberate dual meaning that the other man acknowledged with a grateful nod.

"Yank can handle anything except maybe a determined woman, right Vaughn?" Annabelle laughed and no doubt expected him to laugh, too.

After all, she knew of what she spoke. Her determination had landed them in the sack and he'd gone all too willingly.

He straightened his shoulders. "Yank knows better than to let any woman lead him around like a dog on a leash " he muttered, hoping Annabelle picked up the fact that he was talking about himself as well.

"Damn straight, which is why I'm staying while Annie's working here. Get away from the floozy for a while."

"You're staying?" Annabelle asked, obviously as surprised as Vaughn. "Here?"

Yank nodded, unknowingly giving Vaughn a plausible reason to back off. A valid one that didn't need explanation since surely a bright woman like Annabelle would conclude there'd be no hank-panky with her uncle staying under the same roof.