Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)

Vaughn secured River’s lower body against the bed, both heels pressed into his shoulders—God bless her flexibility—and fuck, he just feasted. Thumbs pressing into her hipbones, he sank into the perfection of her taste. Lightness carried the top of his head up to the ceiling, the melody of her cries playing in his head like a symphony. He alternated between flicking his tongue against her clit and suckling the tiny bud, his middle finger working in and out of her. Beating off with the opposite fist was infinitely more satisfying than how they’d started out, because it was about River, too. About both of them.

Christ, when she’d accidentally implied there had been no other men since him? She’d meant it. He couldn’t add his index finger to the banging of her * without her hips jerking on the bed, a startled cry from the pillows. Would she let him press his aching cock inside her right now? Maybe. Maybe, but he wouldn’t try. Wouldn’t claim what he hadn’t earned. What he didn’t deserve. Not unless she said the words, because then he’d be lost in the fever to please.

And then River’s hips and thighs started to tremble on the bed, and Vaughn couldn’t think any more. His mouth turned punishing on her clit, lips pressing around the swollen nub, tongue giving it hell and heaven at once, both fingers pressed up into her, a privilege his dick cried out for a second later. His growl of bliss was released against River’s flesh, ropes of male fluid soiling River’s bedclothes. She followed him into oblivion seconds later, her gorgeous body twisting on the bed, fingers clawing at the comforter, giving his ears the pleasure of hearing her clearly, without the barrier of her hand.

“Vaughn…yes. Oh God. Vaughn.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, the pleasure of hearing River cry out his name almost as intense as the orgasm he’d just lived through. When her body went limp, he crawled over her, admiring the flush of her belly and tits as he ascended, dropping kisses in the rosiest spots. “Beautiful,” he murmured, humbled. “Beautiful, beautiful…”

Finally, he reached River’s dazed expression…which was already beginning to transform with oh-shit-what’s-next. Yeah, he got that—real fucking well—even if it hurt like a slug in the gut. So even though the pressure in his throat begged him to push a little further, attempt to stay the night and hold the girl who’d been under his skin for over a decade, he knew better than to press his luck. He’d actually gotten to touch River tonight, see to her needs. A week ago, he’d never thought it a possibility.

Don’t be greedy.

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

Discerning blue eyes searched his face. “No.” She sat up and turned her back, killing him on the spot. But a squaring of her shoulders and a soft smile back at Vaughn resuscitated him. “You can see…us.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, after a pause that might have gone on a full hour, courtesy of his heart lodging in his mouth. Climbing off the bed and dressing was almost impossible when his instincts demanded he smother River in a hug, and tuck her into his body for the remainder of the night, but he managed to hold back, reminding himself that pushing could damage whatever fragile connection they might be building here, against all odds. With a steadying breath, Vaughn finished pulling on his jeans and went to the window.

“You can go out the front door,” she murmured from the bed, a lilt of amusement in her tone.

He winked at her. “Once more for old time’s sake.”

Right away, he wished he could snatch back the finality of that phrase. They were seeing each other tomorrow. Incredible, but true. And not just each other, but…their child. He would battle like a gladiator to make sure nothing about his family ever felt final. And suddenly, he knew exactly where to start. When he jumped down into the front yard, there was hope in his chest for the first time since he’d laid eyes on River.





Chapter Eight


River bounded through the hallway of Hook High, ignoring the sarcastic comments from most of her friends—except for Jasmine, who encouraged her with a knowing smile—and burst through the front door into the concrete quad. Inside her chest, a pounding started, so heavy, so extreme, so erratic, she wondered how her body sustained it. Where was Vaughn? Where? He would sustain it for her.

She spun on a heel toward the south end of campus, hitching her book bag higher on her shoulder as she started to jog. The familiar purr of an engine moved the pounding in her rib cage lower on a thrumming slide of new, feminine awareness. She skidded to a halt when she saw Vaughn leaning up against the side of his truck, unmoving and hidden behind sunglasses. She had to give herself a moment, simply so she would survive the impact. God, oh God. He was so hot. She couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way he touched her, spoke her name with such…weight. She also couldn’t stand to be away from him. Even the school day was unbearable now.

Finally, she got her feet moving again, eating up the stupid distance between them. Vaughn didn’t move until she was almost upon him, stepping away from the truck to catch River up in his arms, his ever-present smirk in place. “Hiya, doll.”

Her boyfriend swapped their positions, pushing her bottom up against the passenger side door, studying her face with something like confused elation before bringing their mouths together for a groaning kiss.