Page 70 of Entwined
Vaughn appeared from his office, dressed in his soccer uniform, his red socks pulled high, looking every bit the athlete. He slid across the hardwood floors, a playful grin on his face.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he asked, coming to a stop near the kitchen island.
I pointed at the dirt-caked cleats sitting conspicuously on the corner of the countertop. "What is this?"
He glanced at the offending shoes, his expression sheepish. “It was only for a minute.”
I sighed, my hands falling to my hips. “A minute too long. I told you to leave them in the box I put in the foyer. Orville was going to take care of them.”
Before Vaughn could respond, VJ barreled into his legs, his little arms stretching up toward his father. Vaughn swooped him into the air, spinning him around as the boy squealed in delight. He peppered kisses over VJ’s chubby cheeks, the sight almost making me forget my frustration.
Almost.
“Put him down, you’re full of dirt,” I said as VJ’s curious eyes zeroed in on the Christmas tree Vaughn had insisted on putting up right after Thanksgiving. The glimmering ornaments were practically begging for a toddler’s touch.
Vaughn set VJ down, and our son immediately toddled off toward the tree. Vaughn turned back to me, a sly smile creeping onto his lips. “By the way, we won.”
“I have no doubt,” I replied with a smirk, picking up the cleats and dropping them into a garbage bag. I wiped the counter with a disinfectant wipe, trying to ignore the way Vaughn’s eyes followed my every movement.
He stepped closer, his presence warm and magnetic. His lips pressed against mine, firm and insistent. “Isn’t it time for VJ’s nap?” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin.
I raised an eyebrow. “It is. Can I help you with something?”
His thumb grazed over my nipple through my shirt, sending an immediate jolt through my body. “I think it’s what I can help you with,” he said, his voice low, filled with a promise.
Heat flushed my cheeks. I playfully pushed him away. “Go shower, and I’ll get the little munchkin into bed.”
Vaughn smirked, giving me one last lingering glance before heading toward the upstairs. I watched him go, my heartswelling with affection. Marrying him just before Christmas two years ago had been the right decision. He had resigned from his CEO ambitions, handing over control of Ashworth to Brian Lieberman, and took on the role of president—one that allowed him more time with us.
Since then, Vaughn had transformed into the man I always hoped he could be. The birth of our son had softened him, made him nurturing in ways I never thought possible. In return, I felt like I had blossomed too. Together, we’d started a few charities, and I now ran them with some of the ladies of Windmere Haven.
The whispers around town about our marriage—about me marrying my stepson—still lingered, but I learned to hold my head high. Colson would always be a memory, a part of my past, but Vaughn was my present, my future.
Scooping VJ into my arms, I carried him upstairs, his eyelids already drooping as he nuzzled against my shoulder. By the time I laid him on his bed and slipped off his shoes, he was fast asleep. I smiled, turning on the baby monitor before heading back to our bedroom.
Steam billowed from the bathroom, and Vaughn emerged, droplets of water sliding down his sculpted chest. A towel hung loosely around his hips, and he ran a hand through his damp hair.
“Did you think about what we talked about?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Another baby?” I smiled, leaning against the doorframe.
His eyes darkened with desire. “Yes. I want a little girl.”
I laughed softly, shaking my head. “It’s a consideration, though I’m getting old.”
Vaughn chuckled, stepping closer, his fingers brushing over my bare arm. “You’re not getting old. You’ll be twenty-seven soon. That’s hardly ancient.”
“But Logan and Simone are ahead of us,” I teased. “She’s almost twenty-nine, and they already have two.”
He bent down, pressing his lips against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. “That’s because they had them so close together.”
I smiled at the thought of our rambunctious nephews, imagining them running around with VJ and—maybe one day—our little girl.
Vaughn’s hands slipped under my shirt, his palms warm against my skin as he cupped my breasts, gently kneading them. My breath hitched, my body responding instantly to his touch. I had never expected anyone to excite me as Colson once had, but Vaughn… Vaughn knew how to work my body in ways that left me breathless.
He tugged my shirt off and tossed it aside, his eyes dark with intent. "Let’s practice, then," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
I laughed, but the sound turned into a gasp as he lifted me off the ground and threw me onto the bed. The towel dropped to the floor, and in the next moment, he was on me, his lips crashing against mine, his hands exploring every inch of my body.
