Page 83 of Dirty Boss

That savage smile reappeared. “I know, princess.”

Before I could snap back at him, his hand was shifting and his thumb was where I needed it most. He pressed against my clit, and it didn’t matter that there were layers of leggings and underwear separating us. It didn’t matter that traffic rolled by outside the car windows. It didn’t matter that the driver was just on the other side of a thin glass partition.

I gasped at the pressure of his thumb against my clit. I rocked against it, liquid heat building in the pit of my stomach.

For the first time since I could remember, an orgasm built inside me without the need for roleplaying and games. Without the need to get myself out of my head.

Because it was Vaughn sitting there, watching my face like he couldn’t wait to see my expression. It was Vaughn’s thumb catching the edge of my bud that he knew would send me over the edge. It was Vaughn’s breath coasting across my cheek.

This wasn’t transactional. I wasn’t being used. I wasn’t using.

This was something beautiful. It was the physical manifestation of my feelings for him. It was love.

“I—” The words stuck in my throat as a wave of pleasure crashed over me. I gasped, and Vaughn urged me on with murmured praise and a frenzied look in his eyes. I ducked my head in the crook of his neck and mouthed the words that wouldn’t come out as an orgasm made all my muscles clench:I love you I love you I love you?—

The car slowed to a stop, and Vaughn caught my boneless body before I could fall off his lap. A strand of hair fell against my cheek, my breaths puffing out of my lungs in big gasps.

“We’re here,” he said.

I blinked, glancing out the window. The gold lettering on the front window of Koval’s shop stared back at me, and I fought to catch my breath. “Oh,” was the only response I managed, and then the door opened, and Vaughn’s driver stepped aside to let us exit.

THIRTY

VAUGHN

I’d silencedmy phone earlier, when we’d pulled up outside Alba’s apartment. Now, as she ducked into the bathroom at Koval’s, her cheeks still flushed with the orgasm I’d given her in the back of the car, I pulled the device out of my pocket and checked it.

Countless phone calls and emails and messages. The Midtown job had hit another snag. The price of materials had rocketed up between the time we bid on the job and now, and the team had been scrambling to find alternatives. But the lost time was costing us more than the price increase.

We’d hidden it from Arlo Noble’s people, mostly, but they weren’t stupid. This new wave of issues might be enough to make him walk away.

I scrolled through the call log and scanned the emails, and none of it seemed to matter.

Why was I doing this again? It had seemed so important to save this company, to find an investor, to keep on this trajectory of growth. But I had money—and it would keep coming until my scaffolding patent expired, or someone came up with a better one. By that point I’d have more than I could spend in a hundred lifetimes.

Alba emerged from the bathroom, looking much more composed than when she’d gone in, and I found it hard to care about anything other than getting this fitting out of the way so I could get her alone.

Koval bustled her into the back room. I took the dress box from the driver and followed. When I opened the top of the box, Alba let out a sigh like I’d only heard her make in private—but her eyes were on the shimmery purple fabric I’d just revealed.

“Mr. Koval,” she said, “you’ve been keeping secrets.”

The old man shrugged. “A dress is not a secret.”

She gave him a sideways look, then accepted the bundle of fabric from him and followed his gesture to the curtained cubicle to change. A couple of minutes later, she reappeared, her hair twisted into a clip, her body clad in sequined purple.

She looked unbelievable. My heart began to clatter at the sight of her, and when her eyes lifted to meet mine, I could hardly stop from sweeping her into my arms and back into the car idling outside.

“Up,” Koval ordered, flicking his hands toward the dais. “The hips are tight.”

“The straps are a little long as well,” Alba said. Koval hummed, then grabbed a pincushion and went to work.

“Are you sure you’re okay altering this dress for me?” Alba asked. “It could be a museum piece…”

“It’s your dress now,” Koval said, placing the lavender heels on the dais for Alba to step into. “It should fit you if it’s yours.”

Alba was suddenly taller as she stepped into the heels, and she met my gaze in the mirror. The look on her face was one I’d never seen before. She looked moved by emotion, soft and almost overwhelmed. Then she gulped and moved as Koval directed, her hands skimming the dress when he wasn’t in the way, her head tilting to and fro as she took in her reflection in the mirror.

It was almost unbelievable that this woman had chosen me. She was a goddess. She was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.