Finding Serenity (21 page)

“Fuck.” It is the only word that Vaughn can manage to utter. It is the only thing to cross his mind as he watches that towel slip to the floor. Mollie stands before him completely naked, her skin still red from the hot shower. “What are you doing to me?” he asks her when he had better hold of his tongue.

“What you want.”

Any vestiges of the kid he thought he had met six months ago, is gone. She moves like a woman, touching him with certain fingers, with sweet swipes of her hands that threatens to make his knees give out. And when she presses against him, when the hard peaks of her nipples rub against his thin cotton t-shirt, Vaughn loses all sense of control. He can only think of burying deep inside her, of feeling every inch of skin his mouth can find. He shouldn’t give in. He shouldn’t threaten the case, but when Mollie takes his mouth, when her tongue slips inside to touch his, Vaughn stops caring about all the shit he shouldn’t do.

In a tumble of limbs and groping hands, they move to the bed. Mollie’s hands are a flurry of movements, gripping his shirt, pulling him to her, fingers down on his stomach and he couldn’t stop her if he wanted. She pushes him against the mattress, knocks her clothes, her suitcase onto the floor and straddles him. His hands instantly cup her breasts.

“You’re fucking perfect.” He tweaks a nipple to watch her reaction, loving how her eyes moves up, how she sucks on her bottom lip at the sensation. Vaughn sits up, grabbing her around the waist as he moves them back against the headboard.

He hesitates just for a moment, not sure if he can manage to be slow, to be calm enough to make this last, and it is that small hesitation that has Mollie cocking her eyebrow at him and pulling on his neck so that their mouths are only inches apart. “What are you waiting for, Semper Fi?” A small, teasing peck and she nibbles on his lip. “Fucking touch me already.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

Her skin is softer than he imagined, feels like silk against his calloused fingers. He pushes away the thought that his hands are too rough to touch her, that his gnarled and scarred body would look sullied and broken against her flawless legs, her flat, tempting stomach. At the moment, he doesn’t care about anything but making her scream, about her coming around him.

She tastes sweet, like vanilla, just a bit too much sensation that forces Vaughn to calm. But he doesn’t stop her from lowering his zipper or himself from latching on to those round, dark nipples.

“You feel good.” Her voice is high, elevates as she grips him, pumps up and down his hard dick. “You feel fucking amazing.”

He returns the touch, working his fingers up her thighs, teasing her clit with his thumb and Mollie’s hand quickens, shooting hot licks of sensation straight through him. Her moans rock around the room, urging him on, forward, to work faster, harder as she shakes on top of him, forgetting his body for a moment to concentrate on how he touches her, on the slip of his finger inside her.

“Oh God.
Shit
.” And a minute later Vaughn watches her fall apart, dampening his fingers with the heady, intoxicating smell of her climax.

He doesn’t let her come down from that high, doesn’t let her settle in the slightest. Vaughn moves their bodies, already shoving his jeans down his legs, freeing himself from his boxers before Mollie’s breathing returns to normal.

“Shit,” he says, remembering that he hadn’t prepared, hadn’t thought that this was a remote possibility.

“Wh-what?”

Nostrils flaring in his heavy inhale, Vaughn looks down at Mollie who is already looping her legs around his, spreading herself wide for him. “I,
fuck,
I haven’t done this in a while. I don’t have anything.” He rests his forehead on her shoulder trying to control the throb already aching in his balls. “I don’t have a condom.”

Mollie tugs on his hair, makes him look at her. “I’ve been with exactly four guys and the last time was seven months ago. I’ve been tested, I’m clean and on the pill and right now I give zero shits about not having a condom. Please, Vaughn, I need you.”

“You sure? I’m clean too, but you sure?”

“Fuck’s sake—” Mollie trails off, doesn’t finish her thought and moves her knee up, forcing him forward so that the head of his dick slips easily into her.

“God.” One inch, maybe two and he’d be fully inside her. He can feel how wet she is, how her body would cradle him, and Vaughn smiles at the clear pleasure on her face, the way her downcast eyes watches them nearly joined. Before he completely enters, Vaughn moves her chin, makes her gaze meet his. “You sure you want this? I’m a dirty, fucked up Marine, Mollie. I shouldn’t be touching you.”

“And I’m a trashy biker’s kid with a meth dealing daddy in prison. You sure you wanna touch me?”

He laughs, moves his mouth just inches from her wet, full mouth. “Beautiful, I don’t ever want to stop touching you.”

Vaughn arches back, encouraged by Mollie’s lithe fingers pulling his hips forward and the moment is nearly there, inches now keeping him out and he feels her squeeze, feels how tight she is as he moves further in.

Suddenly his cell phone starts clanging with the god awful Pointers Sisters song, “We Are Family” Viv had assigned herself in his phone. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table tells him something is wrong. Viv wouldn’t call at three a.m. unless something bad had happened.

“Shit,” he shouts both at the impending trouble and at being forced away from Mollie’s welcoming body. Cringing at the instant coolness that slaps over his naked body when he rolls away from her, Vaughn pulls his cell from his jeans pocket on the floor and answers the call. “Viv? What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Winchester, this is Emily, Ms. Winchester’s personal assistant. She’s been attacked. She’s asking for you.”

There is a buzz working through his limbs. He isn’t shaking, isn’t letting fear overwhelm him, but there was a sense of dread, of wild terror that flashes scenarios of carnage through Vaughn’s mind.

The last early morning call his sister had sent him made Vaughn vomit. Death. Loss, it all came to him a year ago with Viv’s four words:
“Sweetie, Daddy didn’t make it.”
Now Vaughn expects another string of words that could undo him. Viv is the only family he has left. She is what remains of his only blood. If she were—no. He won’t let himself think that way.

At his side, Mollie has retreated back into herself. She keeps moving her gaze around the hallway, to the cops milling around. She doesn’t like them, he knows that, but there hadn’t been time to secure her anywhere. Bringing her to one of her friends would have raised too many questions and Vaughn didn’t trust the university’s security. They had started to hover around campus a week before and by the looks of them, Vaughn figured they were little more than rent-a-cops. So, he had been forced to keep Mollie with him. Besides, he had wanted to get to his sister.

Casting a quick look at her, at the way her eyes surf around the hall as they speed down it, Vaughn wonders if it was more than the presence of law enforcement that has her on edge. Back at the hotel room, he’d nearly had her completely. He’d wanted it. She’d wanted it, but now there is this strange awkwardness that keeps them from even incidentally touching. Initially, he told himself it was because he was worried about Viv. Maybe he hadn’t acted like he was as sorry as she seemed to be that they didn’t get to finish what they started. Whatever it was, Mollie is pulling away from him, not giving him any indication that she wants his touch. That stings more than he thought it would, but he doesn’t have time to figure her out right now.

“Sammy?” The security guard nods to Vaughn as they reach just outside of Viv’s office. He is one of the good ones, one Viv had brought with her when she was promoted out of the public defender’s office. What remained of his hair is white and curled tightly against his scalp. He is missing three of his bottom teeth and his green security jacket looks too snug across his shoulders.

Sammy claps Vaughn on the arm, his smile easy, and the gesture makes Vaughn relax just a bit. “She’s okay.” They walk through the front lobby of the D.A. offices and Sammy leads them past the secretary’s desk. “She was down in the parking garage and someone came at her. Thank God Emily was just behind her. Scared off whoever they were.” He opens the door for them and, spotting Mollie, he smiles. “How are you, pretty lady?” The old man’s flirting makes Vaughn smile. No way Mollie would be interested in a sixty-five year man, but the old bastard still seemed eager to try. “What you doing with this ugly son of a bitch?”

“Pity fuck,” Mollie’s says, not missing a beat. She earns a hard laugh from the old man.

“Oh, I like you, sweetheart.” His smile grows wider when she winks at him. “You tell me if this dumb Marine ain’t sweet to you. I’ll straighten him out.”

“I’ll be sure to do just that. Thanks.”

“Find your own girl, you old pervert,” Vaughn tells him with a grin, leading Mollie through the door and straight to where Viv reclines against a leather sofa. When she spots him, his sister slaps away the paramedic cleaning the blood from her forehead. But before Vaughn can reach her, Alex, Viv’s other assistant, steps in front of him.

“Mr. Winchester, how are you?” This guy always annoyed Vaughn. The asskisser liked to ride coattails; was a pleaser who didn’t have ambition beyond scheduling Viv’s meetings and seeing how far his sister would take him. Vaughn thought Alex hoped that Viv’s ambitions ran higher than D.A. in a small Tennessee town. He also looked a bit too scrawny, a bit too stupid to do more than answer Viv’s phone.

“I’ve been better.” He touches Alex on the shoulders and moves him out of the way. “Do you mind?”

Flushing, the guy steps back, worrying his tie before he finds Mollie hanging back. “And you are?”

“She’s with me. Leave her alone, Alex.” Vaughn wants to slap the stupid smirk off of Alex’s face.

Seeing Viv slumped against the sofa, Vaughn frowns, attempts his best “What were you thinking?” glare. “Don’t start. I’m fine,” she tells him. Vaughn doesn’t miss the way Viv stares at Emily, who sits on the other side of the sofa. “I told you not to call him.”

“I’m glad she did.” He passes a smile at the nervous young woman, who can’t seem to stop popping her knuckles. Unlike Alex, who has been Viv’s assistant for at least five years, Emily is quiet, very professional and respects his sister. That much he can tell by the way the girl hangs on her every word, how she matches the long hours Viv puts in. She is a tiny little thing, with a small nose and pale skin that flushes pink when he smiles at her. “Thank you.”

Viv moves her legs off the sofa and straightens up, again slapping at the paramedic. “It’s a scratch. Give me a butterfly bandage so I can go home.”

Relieved that she seems okay—the bitching was a great indication of that—Vaughn pulls her face toward him, examining the wound. “You might need stitches.”

“Stitches will scar. Stop babying me,
little brother.
” When Vaughn rests against the back of the sofa, Viv spots Mollie near the door, hanging back and trying to look invisible. “That her?” she whispers to Vaughn.

“Yes.” They both watch Mollie, and Vaughn smiles at how she twists her hair around her finger. It’s a nervous habit he’s noticed she does when she’s uncomfortable. Viv angles back when he whispers in her ear. “Don’t be a bitch.”

“As if I would.” Viv stands, smoothing down her black skirt. “Okay, everybody out. Go on, my brother’s here and he’ll see me home.” When Emily hesitates near Viv’s desk, his sister squeezes her hand. “Thank you. I’m sorry I yelled.” She opens her mouth, acts as though she might say something—likely another apology, but Viv waves her off. “It’s okay. Take tomorrow off. I am.” She walks Emily to the door and the stragglers descend, each moving out into the hall. Then Alex takes to shooing away the small crowd.

“You heard Ms. Winchester, everyone out.” He gives Mollie a scrutinizing glance that has Vaughn flexing his fist before Viv intervenes.

“You too Alex.” She nods him toward the door.

“But Ms. Winchester, you can’t possibly…”

“I can. I expect you in early tomorrow. Lots of calls to field.” The brownnoser looks superior, smug at that small delegation of power and he slinks away when Viv points at the door. Mollie follows after him, but Viv catches her arm, pulls her back. “You stay. This involves you.”

Mollie moves to Vaughn’s side when he makes room on the sofa and he unconsciously slips his arm on the back of the sofa, just above her shoulders. He tries not to shake his head at his sister when her eyes narrow at the movement.

Vaughn needs to distract Viv before any suspicious comments leave her mouth. “Viv, this is Mollie Malone.” He moves his chin toward his sister with his eyes on Mollie. “Mollie, this is my stubborn ass sister.” The women exchange nods, brief smiles, but Vaughn doesn’t let them commence with pleasantries. He wants details. “Did you get a good look at him?” he says to his sister.

“Brown hair.” Viv says this through a sigh, as though she’s had to repeat that bit information more than a dozen times tonight. His sister moves to her desk and opens the bottom drawer, pulling out a half empty bottle of bourbon and three paper cups. “I’d seen him before, a few weeks back hanging in the parking garage when I left.” Viv fills two cups then hesitates at the third before she looks at Mollie. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I didn’t memorize your file. You old enough to drink?”