CHAPTER NINE

Vaughn

The salsa music pounded throughout the club in a modern mix, with different colored lights flashing off the walls. A bar-height counter surrounded the dance floor, allowing people to watch the dancing without getting run over by the most enthusiastic and experienced shakers.

With Cora holding his hand and wearing a smile just for him, Vaughn led her through the crowd with sure footing. The woman was a sexual daydream come to life in a tight purple, sleeveless shirt, with a multilayered, asymmetrical silver skirt, that at its shortest point reached her mid-thigh.

The perfect choice to show off those stellar legs, and pewter strappy sandals. It took all his will power not to press his body against hers the second she walked in the door.

All four bars in each corner were packed, two to three people deep.

He pointed at the main bartender, Kristof, who nodded back and handed him the two drinks he’d just finished making.

“You come here often,” Cora deduced in his ear. She patted her hair, curled back into a loose up-do with a few tendrils hanging down her neck.

“Old frat brother of mine. There’s a few of us out here. Small world and all.” Vaughn handed her the margarita, and clinked their glasses together. “Makes me feel like I’m back in Miami. Or on that cruise ship.”

Her grin widened. “I haven’t been back to Miami for years.”

“You should. Does your mom still run that restaurant?”

She nodded behind a generous sip.

He pulled her over to a recently opened table in the corner, the farthest away from the speakers he could find. Before he got her on the dance floor, he had a few more questions. The second they stepped on that floor, there wouldn’t be much talking the rest of the night. Her constant touching on his arm, shoulder, and take-me glances clued him in.

“Why haven’t you been back to Miami?”

Cora set down her drink. “Work. Never had down time.” The light in her eyes diminished slightly.

“Despite your honest intentions and justice-served mentality, you still get paid for what you do?”

Licking her top lip after another sip of her margarita nearly made him grown with wanting. “I get a percentage of the item’s value.”

“Paid for by whom?”

She smirked. “I don’t sell them on the black market, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Someone bumped into her as they walked by, and she surged into Vaughn, her breasts pushing against his chest. So warm, full, and soft.

He couldn’t help himself.

His arm wrapped around her waist, and he kept her tucked into his side a few seconds longer.

Her hazel eyes looked up into his, and those long lashes fluttered. Her cheeks pinked in the most adorable way.

He’d made the Latin goddess blush.

“The…government fund…pays for my jobs. Or a foundation…”

“You’re good at what you do.”

Her lips parted, and her chest rose a little higher on her next breath. She nodded.

“One last question.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“Why did you come back to make sure they released me? Why didn’t you just leave, get away clean?”

Cora blinked.

He held her gaze for as long as it took for her to answer. Refused to break their connection; the second he did, she’d back off. With her softness pressed against him, it was the last thing he wanted.

“Because when you caught me spray painting Bloomfeld’s car in high school, you didn’t turn me in.”

Now, he blinked. “No, I didn’t.”

“They could’ve expelled me for that, and all it would’ve taken was one word from you.”

“I didn’t turn you in this time either.”

“No, you didn’t,” Cora repeated his words. Her breaths came in short bursts now, and her gaze kept flitting back and forth between his eyes and his mouth.

Vaughn dipped down slowly, watching her pupils dilate with every inch. Her chest rose once more, and she tilted her face.

There’s my invitation.

He fused his mouth to hers, not waiting for permission. To open more and massage her tongue with his own. To taste her, see if she was as spectacular as in his dreams the last few nights.

She was. Even better.

The tart margarita blended with her peppermint mouthwash. He desperately wanted to get drunk off her. He tilted his face more to delve deeper, and her expert tongue tangled with his. Making his dick harden and push against his pants.

Her nails dug into his shirt, strong, forceful, with so much promise for later.

He could barely wait.

With a final nip on her tongue, he pulled away.

Watched her eyes slowly open to the realization that Vaughn was more than an imagination. Or a possibility. He was a sure thing, if she wanted it. Those swollen lips, red and delectable, were better than he dreamed.

“Ready to dance?”

Cora’s flushed face split into the most gorgeous smile. “Just keep up with me.”

Cora

Dios mio, he’s so much better than my imagination.

Her whole body radiated from Vaughn’s kiss. Where he practically claimed her right there in the club, dominating her with just his lips. In an instant, she’d had a surge of heat between her legs, and gripped the back of his shirt to keep from grabbing for his dick.

So, she’d strayed from her no romantic entanglements policy a bit.

Who wouldn’t, with Vaughn Ayers?

The most popular boy in high school had turned into the sexiest man she’d ever seen, and he wanted her. If she was sticking around town for a few more days to finish off the last mark with the latest turn of events, Cora wanted to enjoy herself. The second he’d said dancing—her personal weakness—she’d conceded. Not a hard sell.

Although she had to admit, from where the former football and lacrosse player learned Latin dancing nearly had her jaw on the floor. Again. The man kept surprising her.

Vaughn’s strong hand led her to the dance floor, where a fast tempo pulsed through the room. Dozens of couples filled that space with their energetic moves and glistening bodies, too much to resist.

The music flowed through her soul, the dances ingrained in her blood from genetics and her mother’s tutelage.

His gaze was alight with excitement and the spotlights spun across everyone’s faces. His blue eyes appeared almost translucent as he pulled her closer, his hand firm against the small of her back.

Then his hips moved to the beat, and with a natural pull, Cora followed his lead the rest of the dance. His expert lead. So much so, she found herself doing a double take or touching her chest several times. The man literally stole her breath. Especially when he threw her into masterful spins, or dipped her over his arm. Never to flaunt himself and his own moves…always to show her off to the crowd.

Except for the moments where Vaughn tucked his hip between her legs, and pressed her into him so hard, she nearly lost control. Those moves were just the two of them, connecting on a level where both implied much more.

The rest of the crowd faded away, despite barely any room between couples. His thumb moved under her shirt at her back, skimming her spine. While his other hand glided up and down her thigh in a vicious tease.

Implying something for later, something she couldn’t last much longer without. Not with this incredibly suave Latin Fred Astaire literally under her fingertips.

My personal weakness.

Until the dance switched to a slower rhythm. A sensual rumba, with a modern mix.

His stare said it all. He wanted her, he was going to bring everything he had to this dance, and she should do the same.

Cora moved into his frame, placing her hand on his chest. Vaughn’s pulse raced under her touch, and his skin was hot. A sheen across his collar bone glistened under the lights, and she could see herself licking it off later.

With a firm grip on her hips, he pulled her waist flush against his thigh, and dipped her backward. Her hair grazed the floor in a long, slow circle, her full weight on his leg.

His hand traced down her sternum to her stomach, gliding along that made goosebumps rise all over her body.

Finishing the slow circle, he brought her up with her torso flush against his. Their foreheads touched, and he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose.

A smile crept up on her heavenly lips.

From there, they let themselves go.

They swirled and ground against each other song after song, an intoxicating prelude that lasted hours. They’d barely said a word during those dances, but they’d spoken more than enough with their bodies.

That left no doubt of their intentions.

Cora was going to enjoy herself tonight, thoroughly, and with a vigor Vaughn would have one hell of a time keeping up with.

She’d make sure of it.