Finding Serenity (25 page)

Questions bubble behind Mollie’s eyes. He can see that she is curious, that there are things she wants to know, but she hesitates, manages only a low, “What happened?”

And here’s the sticky part,
he thinks, not eager to see more of Mollie’s tears. Not sure that if they surface, he’d be able to keep his hands to himself. “I tell people we got divorced because I don’t like the look they give me when they find out Caroline died.” Mollie’s gasp is loud, moves her body and bounces them both on the mattress. “Yep, that’s the one.”

“Vaughn. Shit.”

“Yeah.
Shit
.”

“Was she sick too?”

“It wasn’t cancer. She was schizophrenic, suicidal. She couldn’t handle me being gone so much, but I was in Afghanistan and when there is a job to do, the Corps doesn’t care who is sick and dying at home. I tried. Viv tried, hell my dad even tried to take care of her, but she just… disappeared into herself, into whatever world it was that kept her away from me so often.” Mollie takes his hand, fingers linked with his and Vaughn likes how that strong grip seems to filter small fragments of her own strength into him. “I was a kid. I had no clue what to do. I just couldn’t save her.” He hated how his eyes burn now, how the image of Caroline, reaching for him, bloody and battered won’t ever leave. More than anything, he hates that tears make his vision a blurry mess and how Mollie clings to him, holding him so tight that he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let her release him.

“I can’t save my dad, Vaughn.” Her voice is muffled against his chest.

“You’re not supposed to, sugar. He made choices. He’s living with those choices.”

“And your wife made choices too, right?” She pulls back, touching his face. “Sounds like she expected you to save her, when she couldn’t even save herself. You’re not a superhero, Vaughn. You’re just a man who tried his best. Sometimes, that’s enough. Sometimes, that
enough
is all we can do.”

No one had ever explained it to him that way. A year later, and Vaughn is still holding onto the guilt that threatens to eat him alive. But here is this twenty-two year-old woman who is loud and vulgar and beautiful and sweet and she briefly extinguishes much of his guilt with logic and reason. Finally, now, with Mollie touching his face, with those wide, whiskey eyes taking on a fierce, certain cast, Vaughn sees that she’s right. Knowing the truth doesn’t lessen the hurt, or his failings, but he finally understands that even if he’d been there, Caroline would have still put that gun to her heart.

Mollie’s fingers do not remain still. She lets her pinky smooth over his skin, works her fingers against his stubble and the sensation is too much. Right then, he wants to kiss her; those beautiful, plump lips that glisten against the low lamplight and the tempting way she smells fresh from her shower has Vaughn forgetting that he isn’t supposed to touch her. She is off limits. She is the client’s daughter. But damn, is she a temptation. Mollie’s eyes jump to his and he recognizes the look—the want, the need, and when she leans forward, he takes her hand from his face, but makes sure to give it a squeeze. “I should let you sleep. You have to be exhausted.”

She doesn’t whine, doesn’t seem at all surprised by his reaction and only frowns somewhat before she moves off his lap to twist the cap back on the bottle of Jack. “Thanks. For… well, for everything.”

“It’s my job.” He didn’t mean it, not the way it sounded, especially not when Mollie’s frown lowers, when her back becomes a straight line. Before she can leave him to hide her frustration in the bathroom, Vaughn walks behind her, fighting with himself about the wisdom of touching her again, before he rests his hands on her shoulder. “And I wanted to.”

“The mission, right?” She looks up at him, straining her neck over her shoulder. “Protect the kid.”

“No. Protect the woman.” He knows he should step back, put space between them. He knows he should not let her turn, let her move her hands on either side of his face. He definitely shouldn’t let her kiss the hollow of his throat, or work her mouth over his neck. And God help him, he shouldn’t love the way her warm tongue licks a hot path under his ear. She feels amazing, tight body arching up to him, nipples already hard as she inhales deep, fingernails scraping up the back of his scalp. His body responds, becomes hard, rigid and it takes all of his strength, every ounce of his training to grip her wrists, to pull them down until she no longer touches him. “Stop.” Vaughn’s eyes slam shut. “God… just
please
stop.”

“You want to touch me.” She twists one hand out of his grip and pulls down his face so that he will open his eyes, so that he is forced to look at her pretty face. “I can see that on your face.”

“I made a promise. Not until this is over.” He attempts to push her back, to brush away her hand, but it is a weak action, futile and half-hearted.

“A drug cartel is trying to keep my dad from testifying and he might not make it to court because he’s dying. This thing may not ever be over.”

“You don’t know that.” Vaughn steps back.

“Here’s what I know.” Back again is Mollie’s confident gait. She moves her bare feet on the carpet as though she is lithe, a feral lioness seeking a willing prey. Vaughn can only walk backward, hand held up as though that might stop her in the least. “I saw you that day on the Dash and knew you were mine.” Something twists in Vaughn’s gut, something primal and pleased and his head jerks up, gaze landing onto hers quick. He refuses to move as slinks around him. “I know when you touched me the other night, I felt like I was flying, like your hands were the only ones that should be touching me.” Her fingers trail over his body as she circles him, brushing up against his back, then to his chest as she stops in front of him. “I know that I dream about the way you felt in my hand and the way you touched me. I know that not one person on this earth is guaranteed the next hour, the next minute.” Her hands rest on his chest and Vaughn has surrendered his fight. He’s thought of it too, dreamt about the silken texture of her skin, that musky, tempting scent of her body when she came around his fingers. “I know that I’d do just about anything to feel your tongue on my skin again, to have you over me.” When Mollie’s fingers rub against his stubble again, Vaughn tries not to flinch, both from the shock of her words and the liquid heat scorching his dick at her touch. “To have you inside me.”

“
Mollie
… fuck. I can’t do this.” Reaction like a whip, moving quicker than Vaughn’s stunned, aroused senses would have thought possible, Mollie stands on her toes, lips against his neck, breath hot, welcoming, teasing against the shell of his ear. “I… I can’t think when you touch me.” He demonstrates by stretching his neck back when her teeth nibble on his earlobe. Finally gaining some composure, Vaughn pushes her back, keeping his arm straight and firm against her shoulder.

“So stop thinking.” One swat at his hand and Vaughn’s arm is at his side, but Mollie allows him his distance, she hasn’t moved again and he believes it’s because she thinks she won’t need to. He doesn’t trust the smile on her face or the way she bites that inviting bottom lip. “I don’t need you thinking. Not right now. Not when my body needs you.” She glances at his waist, at the way his erection tents his jeans. “Not when I know how much your body needs mine, Semper Fi.”

Vaughn could let thought push back into his brain. He could recite the Oath of Enlistment
,
let the monotony of the mantra clear away the thick air of desire, arousal. He could remind himself that Mollie is Mojo’s daughter, that the man is dangerous if pissed off and that touching his daughter would absolutely piss him off. But thought, fear, they don’t diffuse the crippling ache Vaughn feels. They don’t extinguish the sweet smell of Mollie’s hair, how when she looks at him, precisely how she is now, that his attempts at control are pathetic. Right now, he only lets the image of her naked body, the heady mix of her scent, the low moans she makes when he touches her, work like a twister in his brain. She said she knew he was hers, that first day and now, with Mollie’s hands reaching out to him, with the buzz of his body and the need for hers fueling him, Vaughn knows she is right. He belongs to her, more than he’s ever belonged to anyone. She owns him and he decides to forget thought, forget promises he had no business making.

A rough, aching grunt, that sounds nothing like him, shoots from his throat and before he can stop himself, Vaughn grips Mollie’s waist, feeling the elastic of her shorts between his fingers as he jerks her against his chest. Hands pulling her head back, hair twisted in his fingers, he looks down at her, at her widening eyes and the small pant that releases between her open mouth, giving her a moment to change her mind; hoping she will and in the next beat, praying she doesn’t. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. I’m broken, Mollie. I’m a fucking failure.”

“Well then, Semper Fi, you’re
my
broken failure.”

Another grunt, this one like a deep, remote growl, and Vaughn lifts Mollie’s tiny body, holds her ass so that she can wrap her legs around his waist. “You might regret saying that one day, sugar.” And then he kisses her, rushing to catch up to where he left off with her the night of Viv’s attack. He is ready, prepared this time and he thinks he is stupid, a prattling idiot that told his sister he wouldn’t touch Mollie. If he honestly believed that was at all possible, he’d have never picked up a box of condoms at the convenience store outside of Jackson.

Mollie works on his neck again, nibbling, biting, tugging on his earlobe and the small moans she releases when he moves his hands up her back, under her t-shirt, nearly undo him. They bounce once on the mattress when he lays her down, and he likes how she immediately slips her shirt over her head, tugs down her shorts. She reaches for her thong, but he stops her, coming to his knees to peel the tiny fabric at her hip with his teeth.

“You smell so damn good.”

A wicked glint flicks in her eyes and she pulls him forward, feet on his shoulders. “I taste even better.”

Shit,
he thinks.
She’s gonna wreck me.

And then he tests her theory, sliding his mouth, his tongue, over her clit, slipping his fingers inside her, loving the sensation of her gripping him, and the wild, raw sounds she makes the deeper he sets over her. “Yes, baby, right there.” Vaughn loves the taste of her, how she is so sweet, how she responds to him, how this perfect little creature is consumed, overcome by his touch. It makes him eager, it makes him want this night to never end.

He slips in a finger, deep, straight back to her sweet spot and then another and Mollie’s hips lift off the mattress, her fingers threading into his hair to guide him, show him that she likes how he touches her. A few long strokes of his tongue, some quick rubs against her clit and Mollie is soaring, drunk on Vaughn, gripping and pulling his fingers in as she climaxes. He pulls back, watches her expression, how open, how purely sated she looks and his chest feels tight, full with the pleasure he gave her. When she is calmer, he inches up her body, holding her hips to kiss a soft path over her stomach, up to her ribs until she pulls on his waist and he is looking down at her.

“What, Mollie?” he asks, her momentarily smug by how she responded to him, by how high she looks now, eyes half lidded, smile lazy.

“You’re good at that, Semper Fi.” Mollie pulls on his neck to bring him just inches from her mouth. “Too good. I don’t usually…” she trails off and the smallest hint of a blush colors her cheeks. “Not that quickly anyway.”

Vaughn knows his smile is superior, ridiculous. “Well, I’m flattered.” Her neck is sprinkled with a faint hint of sweat and Vaughn licks against the moisture, loving the salty sweet taste of her skin.

He comes to her chin, to those plump lips he hasn’t been able to ignore for months now, and kisses her soundly, loving her airy breath, the warmth of her tongue, but then she pulls away, lifts his face in her hand. “Tell me what you like.”

That is a loaded question
. Vaughn didn’t want them expelling all their little kinks in one night. He intended to discover every inch of her body, measure what she liked, what she didn’t when he touched her. But it didn’t need to happen in one night. Not with Mollie. She was not a one night kind of woman. “I like you. I like you touching me. I like watching you fall apart when I touch you. I can pretty much guarantee whatever you do to me, I’m gonna like.”

Mollie’s smile is wide and Vaughn thinks he’s never seen her expression so open, so exposed. He instantly decides he likes it. He didn’t know if she was waiting on him, if she wanted him to continue to take control and so when she only smiles at him, he lifts up, snakes his shirt over his head with one hand.

“Well, I like this,” she says, giving his nipple a soft pinch. Vaughn doesn’t bother repressing the shudder the action gives him. “And I definitely like this.” Mollie pops open his jeans, lowers his zipper to release him from his shorts.

“How… how much?” He doesn’t recognize his own voice, but with how Mollie touches him, works his erection with those clever fingers of hers, he doesn’t really care what he sounds like.

“This much.” And then Vaughn is on his back with Mollie working down his jeans, discarding his shorts and her mouth finds him, takes him hard.

“
Fuck.
” He can do nothing but look down at her, tremble when her mouth covers his dick completely, when those whiskey eyes watch him as she slides her tongue up and down the shaft. He makes a
hmmpgh
sound—weird and rasping, and he can only maintain his control by pulling her soft hair between his fingers, guiding her, but letting her do whatever the hell she wants. When the suction increases and Mollie works faster, harder, Vaughn’s eyes round and he knows he won’t last. “Stop. Wait…”

She sits up, frowning a bit and Vaughn leaves the bed, darting to his suitcase to fish out the condoms from the plastic bag beneath his jeans. He is so worked up, so eager, that he doesn’t bother looking down at himself as he rips open the foil, sliding on the latex as he walks to the bed.

Whatever look he is giving her, must do something to Mollie because the put-out frown shifts her mouth and a wide grin replaces it. “Prepared now, are we, Semper Fi?”