Page 48 of Wardrobe Malfunction

He looks at me. “Friends,” he says.

And he smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Charly

It’s around ten, and I’m lying in bed, wearing my pajamas—a tank and boy shorts. I’m watching a Sex and the City rerun, eating chocolate.

Hey, don’t judge. I’m feeling a little sorry for myself over Vaughn.

When there’s a knock at my door, I stop chewing.

Who could that be?

My eyes go to the door like it holds the answer.

Putting my bar of chocolate down on the nightstand, I slide my legs off the bed and quietly pad over to the door.

I put my ear to the door but can’t hear anything.

I swallow the chocolate in my mouth. “Who is it?” I ask.

“Vaughn.”

Holy Jesus.

What is he doing here?

My heart bangs hard against my chest as I take ahold of the handle and open the door.

And there he is, looking beautiful, wearing a Lakers ball cap pulled low over his eyes, light-blue jeans with his hands pushed into the pockets, and a midnight blue V-neck sweater that looks soft to the touch. I’m almost certain that it’s Armani. That sweater more than likely costs more than my whole month’s rent.

“Hi,” I say softly, curling my fingers into the hem of my shorts.

His hands pull from his pockets, going to either side of the doorframe where he grips it. “So, it turns out, the friends thing isn’t going to work for me.”

“Oh.” I sag a little. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not enough. I need more. I want more…I want all of you.”

My heart soars, and my panties mentally drop.

A second later, my face is in his hands, and he’s kissing me like he might die if he doesn’t. I know I’ll die if he stops. Then, he’s walking me back into my room, kicking the door shut with his foot.

His tongue is in my mouth, fighting mine over whose belongs where. I push his ball cap off, letting it fall to the floor, and my fingers tangle in his hair, clutching and pulling at it.

His hands find my ass and lift me. I wrap my legs around his waist.

The next thing I feel is my back against the wall. And Vaughn is pressed up against me, taking my mouth like it belongs to him.

Because, right now, it does. For this moment in time, I’m his to do whatever he wants with.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Was just eating some before you got here.” I can barely get the words out.

You’ve got to cut me some slack here. I currently have Vaughn West’s body molded to mine. My libido is throwing a fucking fanfare.

He runs his tongue over my lower lip, making me shiver.