The first betrayal

“Sugar?”

“Just one.”

“Milk?”

“Nah.”

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, Sofia.”Once the coffee was relieved from me, I could finally retreat to a safe distance and observe.

Vaughn – for that was what he’d casually revealed was his name – sat at the kitchen table, a large and dark-haired boy-man, so out of place that it was almost hilarious. He wasn’t even my type and, in reality, I was just too old for him to even give me the time of day. And I was married, for goodness’ sake!

So I tried to find faults with him, if only to make myself feel better.

His hair was a little too curly, thick, and all over the place; that just-got-outta-bed look. He’d probably never heard of a comb. His nose… Well, his nose was far too pointy, too Phoenician. It stood, proud and sharp, above lips that were too plump to be considered masculine. They disappeared when he took a swig of coffee. No, Vaughn Parker wasn’t even on my radar.

But he was delicious to look at.

Dangerously delicious to look at.“Where’s your husband?”

The question was asked as nonchalantly as possible.

I blinked, properly focusing on Vaughn. He was looking at me with interest, like we were about to have a meaningful conversation.

“Working.” My reply was curt and, if I thought about it, irritated. Was I pissed off that he was acknowledging my husband, or pissed off that I had a husband in the first place? I wasn’t about to think too hard about that.

“Yeah? What does he do?”

“He’s a lawyer.”

Vaughn nodded. “And he left you all alone.” It was a statement, not a question, and I bit my bottom lip.

“He’s probably on his way back,” I felt the need to say. If I wasn’t careful, my nose was going to grow because I knew Jack would be taking his time to get back.“Besides, we don’t have to be joined at the hip. We’re married, not Siamese twins.”

Vaughn let out a laugh. “Fair point, Sofia.”

The stirring in my abdomen grew at the way he said my name. It sounded daft, but his tongue seemed to caress all three syllables, almost like a lover would caress—

Stop right there, Sofia Harrington. Stop it! Just stop it!

“How long will fixing up the shower take?” I asked suddenly.

He set the mug down on the table. “Not that long. One day, tops.” He paused, giving me a soft look. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll be out of your hair now,” he told me, standing up and stretching. The hem of his shirt rode up, revealing a toned bit of brown flesh – and the unmistakable line of a dark happy trail. I swallowed; instantly uncomfortable, instantly appalled by the sudden moisture in my knickers.

“I’ll be back in an hour. That all right?”he wanted to know, shoving one hand in his back pocket. He looked down at me questioningly.

“That’s fine. I’ll be here.” I led him back to the front door, eager to see the back of him.

“Good. See you, then.”

“Yes. See you.”

And I closed the door, leaning against it for support.

What the hell was happening to me? I was acting like a bloody teenager!

You’re so turned on you don’t know how you’ll get off.

The voice in my head was startlingly right. Unfortunately.Under water, everything was so much simpler.

Nothing mattered, because all there was, was blue, icy-cold water and the blood flowing to my brain. So I guessed Jack was right about swimming being a distraction.

A distraction from a certain green-eyed hunk.

You only met him five seconds ago!

So what? It’s not like this is going anywhere.

And what if, by some miracle, that stunt he pulled in the bathroom means he’s interested?

I’ll let him fuck my brains out, of course!

I swam laps for God-knows-how-long, trying to clear my suddenly-scrambled mind, until my muscles began protesting and I was forced to get out. I grabbed the towel I’d flung onto the chaise longue and dried myself off, wrapping it around my head turban-style once I was done. Instinctively, my head swiveled towards the door on the patio.

Vaughn was standing there, casually leaning against one wall.

I blushed, aware that I was close to being completely naked. My bikini was one size too small and left little to the average predator’s imagination. Jack didn’t particularly like me wearing it out in public, which is why it was reserved for moments like this. Private moments.

But this was my house. I wasn’t going to feel uncomfortable about taking a swim, even if my breasts were spilling out my bikini top.

So I sashayed towards the door, giving Vaughn what I hoped was a seductive smile.

“Did you let yourself in?” I asked the obvious question.

He had the decency to redden. “Sorry. I did knock, though.”

“It’s OK.” I unwrapped the turban, letting my hair fall in a tumble aroundmy shoulders. I pretended to ignore his blatant ogling, when it was making my stomach do somersaults into the deep end of the pool. “You brought the… equipment?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He dragged his eyes from my chest. “It’s at the foot of the stairs. I’ve been here for, like, twenty minutes.”

I stared at him. “Doing what?”

“Watching you.”

I swallowed. “You should have called out to me.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

“I guess not. You can go up to the bathroom. I don’t mind you being there alone.”

“OK,” he said, and headed back into the house. I hadn’t failed to notice that he had changed out of his shirt and into a white wife-beater. It hugged every muscle like an old friend and put the sinewy muscles of his biceps on display.He’s younger than you, my conscience scolded. Have you no shame?

“No, I don’t,” I said aloud, then let out a long sigh. The sad truth was that I was too chicken-shit to do anything. Not only that, my wedding ring was glinting in the sunlight, reminding me that I wasn’t Sofia Lopez anymore; I was Mrs. Jack Harrington. So I could only look. Would only look.

I stalked back into the house, dripping slightly, and went into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Evian and taking a long drag. Lunch time was quickly approaching, and Jack was sure to return anytime soon. What would he think of a gorgeous hunk in our bedroom?

I let out a giggle and pulled out one of Holly’s homemade lasagnas from the freezer, shoving it into the oven to bake. After that exhausting swim, lunch was my sole priority.

“Mmm… Smells good,” a voice said from behind me.

I spun around, nearly giving myselfwhiplash. “Vaughn. Hey.”

“Hey. What are you making?” He strode across the room and peered through the glass of the oven.

“Lasagna. Want some?”

He stood up straight and glanced at me. “Do you want me to have some?”

“We’re not in high school, Vaughn. Yes, or no?”

He laughed again. I was beginning to realize that he did that a lot, and that only made him seem even more boyish than he probably was. Made it seem like I was perving over a kid.

“Then yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” he decided, parking himself on a stool at the table. “But listen, I’ve got to dash out…so I think I’ll only be able to really start work on your shower tomorrow. If that’s a problem, tell me. I can send someone else in my place.” He held eye contact. “If that’s what you’d prefer.”

I looked away, heading to the cupboard where Holly had put the plates. “No, I’d rather have one person in here.”

“Good.” His voice sounded much closer…

A cloud of his cologne, which I now recognized as tacky Brut, enveloped me, and then his arms did, too. I stiffened, surprise making the hairs on my arms stand up. His thick arms were around my bare waist, male skin on female, and I finally relaxed, heaving out a sigh.

“Sofia…” His breath was in my right ear and then he was nibbling at my earlobe. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing heavily at the feel of his lips against my skin. “Sofia, why are you so sad?”

“Sad?” I whispered, as one of his big, soft hands cupped my breast. The thin material made it seem as if he were stroking my hardened nipple. “I’m not.” He squeezed, pain shooting through my body, but the sudden dampness in my bikini bottom told a different story.

He slowly removed one bra strap, massaging my arm, and then, with such abruptness, his hand was on my barebreast, teasing my nipple. A low, animal moan escaped my lips; I was beyond the point of no return now.

The other bra strap was pulled down. Vaughn pressed himself against me, the jut of his erection digging into the small of my back. Shock mingled with desire prompted me to lean back into him, eyes still closed, while he worked his magic with his fingers; rubbing, pulling… I was going to burst. I could feel it, and I was sure he could, too.

What are you doing, Sofia?

Oh, shut the fuck up!

“Turn around,” he breathed, and I obeyed, forced to look up into those…those eyes. Why did they have such an impact on me? “You are so fucking perfect and I don’t think you know that,” he said softly, pressed up so close against me I could feel the quick thump of his heart. One of the drawer handles was digging into my spine but I didn’t give a shit. No pain, no gain, didn’t they say?

“Nobody’s perfect,” I said quietly, pushing tentative hands up his top. God, those abs – like silk concrete under my fingertips.

“You’re not a nobody,” he countered, and he lowered his head, his soft lips melding against mine. His tongue dipped across my lower lip, the lightest flicker sending a spike of pleasure through me. My lips parted, letting him in.

He tasted of bubblegum, and I probably still reeked of caffeine, but, judging from the bulge in his pants, he didn’t care. Without warning, he picked me up as if I were a bag of air and spun around, laying me flat on the kitchen table.

I caught my breath, trying to sit up, feeling several kinds of awkward. Vaughn gently pushed me back, a sly grin on his face.

“Just close your eyes, Sofia,” he commanded, “and relax.”

My bikini bottom was gently pulled down to my ankles and my legs pushed apart. Spread-eagled, I had never felt more exposed, more naked. Vaughn positioned himself between my legs, towering aboveme, his eyes darkening as they took in my bared, pink flesh.

I held my breath, the insecure part of me – the largest part of me – wanted him to like what he saw. Wondered if I’d come up short.

“Hair… I love hair.” He let out a soft sigh, stroking my mound. The light touch sent shudders through my body. “Fuck lasagna,” he murmured. “I’m having Sofia.”

And then, just like that, his face was upon my hot, wet flesh, his tongue flat against my most sensitive parts. The sensation of that tongue flicking against my clít was out of this world. Jack had never eaten me out, and now, here was this…this man doing just that. He held me down for this sweet torture; sucking me, licking, murmuring his enjoyment. I came almost instantly, the sound of my inhibitions being drowned out by my animalistic wail of ecstasy.

Vaughn’s big hands were the only things anchoring me to that table and once the aftershocks of my climax had subsided,he kissed my pússy, then slowly kissed his way up my belly, and finally between the parting of my breasts. I stroked the curls of his head, breathing deeply, still trying to wrap my head around the gift he’d just given me.

“Taste yourself,” he breathed into my chest before bringing his mouth up to my lips. The salty taste of cüm was like a sweet nectar. I hadn’t tasted it in… forever.

“I want you,” I said on a sigh, pulling away from him. “I want you inside me. Right now. Right here. Bloody hell, screw me!”

He laughed softly, standing straight. “Do you fúck on first dates?”

“I don’t care about that!” I hissed, sitting up. “This isn’t a date.”

He straightened his vest. “See you tomorrow, Sofia Harrington.” Wrinkling his nose, he glanced at the oven. “Shit. There goes the lasagna.”

I followed his gaze, heaving myself off thetable and getting myself back to normal. “Oh, hell. What a waste.”

“No,” Vaughn whispered, looking me up and down, “this is a waste.”

I felt a blush bloom on my cheeks. “Thank you for…” For making me come. For making me feel desirable. I couldn’t get the words out.

But he seemed to know what I meant. “You don’t have to thank me,” he told me, laying a peck on my forehead. “Later, beautiful.”

And he was gone, whistling a tune on his way out.

I could still taste myself on my lips, but the smell of his cologne was gone, overpowered by the stench of burnt cheese. It was as if Vaughn Parker never existed.