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He was still summer-tan, but there were faint tan lines around his collar and where a sleeveless shirt would end at his shoulders. There was another one midway down his thighs, cutting across the rounded muscle of his quads and hamstrings. What did he do in the summer besides work? Swim at the natural pools at the bottom of Linney Falls? Drive over to Lake Lanier and go out on a boat with friends? Mow lawns for extra cash?

It sure as shit wasn’t what my high school friends did. Most of them spent summers in Hilton Head or Orange Beach. Or traveling around Europe. If they weren’t working, they were sunning themselves or playing eighteen holes of golf.

“Mornin’, princess.”

Vaughn’s sleep-rough voice startled me into yelping, “Fuck!”

The low rumble of his laughter made my morning wood come roaring back to life. “Fuck off,” I added before grabbing my shower shit and moving quickly toward the door.

“Want me to take care of that problem of yours?” he asked, not even opening his eyes. His hand moved down to stroke his own cock over the fabric of his underwear. “You want my hand or my mouth, sweetheart?”

Wait, was he talking in his sleep? Maybe he was thinking about a woman. In the two seconds I paused to consider it, he blinked one eye open and peered at me.

“You’re considering it.”

“Am not!” I squeaked.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. Been wanting to get my hands on you anyway. Didn’t think it would happen first thing in the morning, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.”

“Fuck!” I said, wondering idly if I knew any other words for situations like this. “Fuck off.” Probably not.

I didn’t give him a chance to repeat his inappropriate proposition, only threw open the door and raced out to the hall showers.

And if I stroked off quickly once I was under the hot water spray, it had nothing to do with Elliot Vaughn.

10

VAUGHN

Friday night at the Pit was in full swing, and it was busy enough to act as a much-needed distraction.

Ever since I’d seen Bett with a girl outside of Whitman last weekend, I’d been unable to stop thinking about it. If I hadn’t been Rowan’s date to the faculty event, I would’ve followed them back up to the room and made sure he didn’t fuck her there.

As it was, I’d raced home from the reception to interrupt their fuck-fest before it went too long, only to find him dead asleep. If he’d had sex with that woman, there was no evidence of it. No used condom in the trash or clothes tossed aside haphazardly.

I’d forced myself to leave him alone, only staying awake long enough to change the whiteboard just to see what he’d do.

VAUGHN: 23

BABYGIRL: 2

The next morning, I’d taunted him. Asked if he wanted me to suck him off. But he’d ignored me and run away, as usual.

The only indicators I’d gotten under his skin were the way his ears had turned red, his shallow pants when I talked sexy to him, and the ticking muscle in his cheek as he’d clenched his jaw to keep from snapping at me.

Well, that and the hard cock in his pants as he’d raced to the bathroom.

I’d watched that fucking whiteboard for days, wondering if he’d change it, but he hadn’t. And the fact that I didn’t know if he was simply ignoring it or if it was accurate enraged me.

I still had so many damn questions where Corbett McNeely was concerned. The man was a fucking enigma. The harder I watched him, the more difficult it became to ignore the cracks in his golden-boy facade…

And the harder it became to convince myself that I was still fucking with him as part of some evil scheme to bring him to his knees.

The truth was, I wanted him on his knees for an entirely different reason.

I wanted him, full stop. With a singular determination that was beginning to feel like a sickness. An obsession. An unhealthy focus that made me want to burn this place to the ground, along with everyone in it.

It was a shame I wasn’t scheduled to fight tonight. I was fucking primed and ready. My muscles shook with the need to take someone out. To dominate and punish. To prove myself.