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Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2) Page 11


  River ordered a glass of wine, Vaughn a bottle of Budweiser. Both of them were running nervous palms down their thighs, something they noticed at the same time and started to laugh. “Jesus, this feels like a first date,” Vaughn muttered. “I guess it is. Guess we’re starting from scratch.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible for us,” River answered, just above a whisper. “The past is too…present.”

  Vaughn stared at her until the waiter delivered their drinks, then picked up the bottle by its neck and leaned forward. “I know. I know it, Riv. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on the goddamn planet right now, okay? Tell me that counts for something.”

  Her pulse skittered. “It does.”

  He shoved aside his beer, as if he’d never really wanted it in the first place. “My colonel being there today…this is going to be hard for me to talk about. It’s going to be the first time, so I just need to say it.”

  River barely managed a nod. She wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but he looked too untouchable in that moment, encased in the firelight.

  A small silence passed before Vaughn started speaking. “When I was stationed in Afghanistan…” He cleared his throat. “We did these security rounds. Only they lasted hours. Eight of us to a truck, patrolling the zone we’d been assigned.” The waiter chose that unfortunate moment to take their order, which they recited quickly and then fell back into a brief silence. “One night—it was at night—we met resistance. Took on enemy fire, which we returned…it seemed to go on forever, Riv. Hours. And I was the only one left standing at the end of it. Out of ammunition, just trying to hide bodies of my guys so they wouldn’t get blown apart.”

  When River lifted a hand to her mouth, Vaughn cursed under his breath.

  “I didn’t want to tell you this. It makes me crazy knowing you’re taking on thoughts like this. From me, especially.”

  She dropped her hand. “I want to take them on. Please finish telling me.”

  Beneath the table, Vaughn’s foot pressed against River’s. “I carried them back. My guys. It took me all night.” He wasn’t looking at her now. Wasn’t seeing her. “I kept thinking the enemy would be back to finish the job, or to clear the road, and they would find me and end it. But they must have moved on to something or someone else, because I got our soldiers back to the perimeter of camp.” He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Just laid them there. But I-I thought it was better than leaving them in the street—”

  River broke free from her frozen state, if only to shake her head slowly. Inside, she felt the slow, churning death Vaughn must have experienced that night so far away and wanted to weep for him—for the young man he’d been forced to leave behind—but tears would have to come later, when he’d been reassured. “You did do the right thing,” River breathed. “Better than right, Vaughn. All that closure you provided…it was invaluable.” She searched around the table, as if the proper words would appear on the floor. “I’m so proud of you.”

  A sound left him, a gruff heave of weight leaving his chest. The muscles in his throat moved up and down. “Proud of me? Look what you’ve done with our child. She’s incredible thanks to you, Riv. I’m proud of you.” The intensity in his gaze hit her like a ton of bricks. “You know what, though? If you have pride in me, I’m not going to question it. I don’t care about anything else in this life. Nothing but that. Is that wrong?”

  Confusion banded together with the tumult of emotions she was experiencing. Had she been a support system for him so long he’d stopped loving her somewhere along the way, becoming dependent instead?

  “There.” He pointed at River from across the table, dark brows drawn close. “Where did you just go on me?”

  Selfish. Stop being so selfish. He’d just told her something traumatic, something more important than a young girl’s heartbreak, and she was thinking of herself. River forced steel into her spine. “Nowhere. I’m right here.” Taking a chance, she reached across the table and twined their fingers together. “Right here.”

  Vaughn’s skepticism still showed on his handsome face, even as he leaned in, his voice turning gruff. “I’d love us to be somewhere I could make sure of that.”

  River’s heartbeat tripled, the restaurant’s temperature seeming to increase to an inferno state. Comfort him, a voice urged in the back of her mind. Was Vaughn distracting her from an important conversation with sex? Yes. He always did. Would she give in anyway, if that were the case? Relaying the story had obviously taken its toll on Vaughn, leaving his eyes haunted, his mouth set in a grim line. However that long ago night had turned out, he’d needed her, whether he’d loved her or not. And he needed her again tonight, with the wound having reopened. “Let’s get the food to go.”

  His hand clenched into a fist inside hers. “Go where?”

  Her thighs tightened just thinking about it. All those stolen, forbidden hours, being taken roughly on a cheap comforter, traffic whirring past outside. Closure. That’s what the motel represented. If Vaughn didn’t love her, maybe she could at least get closure. A way to move on with Vaughn in her life, without the bone-deep longing that came along with being near him. “You know where.”

  Horror registered, darkening his expression. “I’m not taking you back there.”

  River could see he meant it, that he wouldn’t change his mind unless she convinced him. Beneath the table, she placed her hand on Vaughn’s knee and slid it up, up until she reached mid-thigh. “Let’s replace a bad memory with a good one.” She pressed her thumb into the meat of his inner thigh, circling it in a sensual massage, making Vaughn close his eyes on a low groan. “Take me to our place.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Don’t go. Don’t go.”

  River lunged from where she lay in a sobbing heap on the bed, latching onto Vaughn’s arm before he could reach the door. Leaving? Just…leaving? This couldn’t possibly be real. Yes, it was a horrible nightmare. He hadn’t meant anything he’d said. How could he have stopped loving her when she had enough love inside her for them both?

  “Let me go, River.” Dull eyes stared clear over her head. “I said what I came to say. Should have said it a long time ago.”

  “No, you’re lying.” She screamed at him, smacking her palms against his immovable chest. “I can prove it.”

  A spark of the old Vaughn made her breath catch. Maybe it was her feverish denial, projecting what she needed to see to survive, but she swore he’d glanced down at her with a flash of unsuppressed hunger. Without time to reevaluate, River tore the dress over her head, leaving herself standing before Vaughn in nothing but the special, lacy white thong she’d bought in anticipation of his return. The air conditioning teamed up with Vaughn’s blistering stare to pebble her nipples into aching little points.

  And then it was Vaughn’s turn to lunge. With a ragged sound he tackled River onto the bed, shredding her panties in desperate hands. “Fuck, doll. Why are you doing this to me? I left my condoms in the car,” he growled. “I knew I’d want this.”

  She could feel Vaughn reining himself in, knew by his deep drags of breath, he was attempting to gain control and stop. Stop touching her. No. God, no. If she let him walk out the door, she wouldn’t have another chance to get through to him. This—touching—was how they’d always broken down barriers. If he left now, she would never see him again. The panic rose in her throat until near hysteria trickled in, bleeding past the edges of her mind.

  I’m losing him. I’m losing him.

  “I’m on the pill,” she said on a shudder, grasping at the only lifeline available to her. Because surely if he left, she wouldn’t be able to open her eyes and see the next morning. “I went on it for us.”

  Misery laced Vaughn’s blissed out groan when he plunged into her body, pumping into her with jarring force, driving River’s slight body up the bed.

  With the love of her life’s breath shallow and rasping in her ear, River let her eyes fall shut, arms tightening around him in
a fierce hug. “See? You love me.” Her voice shook with the reverberations of Vaughn’s frantic thrusts. “You love me. I know you do.”

  He proved her wrong half an hour later when he stumbled out of the room without a backward glance.

  Vaughn couldn’t believe he’d let River convince him to go back to the motel. Sure, he was staying there for the time being. But River standing in the parking lot beside him was like a heart-wrenching flashback. One that was happening in real time. Making matters worse, her hand was tucked trustingly inside his. The bastard who’d ripped their future—and her delicate heart—in half the last time they’d been there together.

  When they walked into his room, he watched her take a turn around the bed, the chair he’d been using as a clotheshorse. Nothing had changed since they’d stayed there. Same color scheme, furniture, and background noise. Everything had remained the same, apart from him and River. A memory of her balled up on the bed, tears staining her cheeks, moved across his consciousness, and he had to look away, setting the to-go containers on the round, wobbly table opposite the bed.

  “Maybe we should have taken the booze with us, too,” Vaughn muttered, chancing a glance at River.

  She raised an eyebrow, and with a little flourish, she pulled the corked bottle of wine out of her purse. “Would have been a shame to let it go to waste.”

  Love pummeled him with such force, honesty escaped as though an emergency valve had been turned. When he spoke, his words were labored. “I lied.”

  Her smile slipped, the bottle of wine dropping to her side. “Sorry?”

  God, he thought the words would feel like rose bushes being ripped out through his throat, but having made the initial admission, the rest flowed out like water that had been dammed too long—until he saw the dawning recognition on River’s face, saw her lower herself to the bed in slow motion. “I lied that night, Riv,” he said hoarsely. “You think I could’ve stopped loving you so easily?”

  She didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

  “I was dying for you,” he near-shouted, falling into the single dining chair. “Don’t you see, though? That was the problem. It was always the problem. The day we met, I started sucking all the possibilities out of you. College. A job and a life outside of this town.” She was facing away from him now. There. He’d lost her for good, hadn’t he? The lie that kept on giving. “You couldn’t just move on while I was away. Or hell, see sense while I was still fucking here. You just kept running to me, and I couldn’t let myself catch you again. I had no choice that night, River. Before I left, I was bad for you. When I came back…” Vaughn shook his head. “I was flying shrapnel. I knew even less how to be the man you deserved.”

  He closed his eyes and remembered the night in the Third Shift when River’s father had forced him to see sense. Forced him to admit he was killing River in his own inexcusable way. River didn’t need to know what had pushed him into the lie, though. It would only hurt her more—possibly dent her relationship with her father—and he was done causing her pain.

  “So you…” River started quietly, face still turned away. “You did love me.”

  Humorless laughter rattled in his chest. “You couldn’t feel it? I damn near smothered you on that bed. Jesus, I couldn’t let your mouth go long enough to give you a decent breath.” Vaughn shoved to his feet and paced to the door. “Walking out of here was like having my goddamn limbs torn off.”

  When he turned around, River was standing, too, watching him across the room through luminous blue eyes. I still love you, Vaughn wanted to shout. I’d murder, sacrifice, and starve for you. But it would be too soon when he’d just ripped open the old wound.

  “So you made that decision for both of us?” River murmured, rounding the bed and coming toward him. God, if she tried to get past him to the door, Vaughn couldn’t promise he wouldn’t block her, get on his knees, and beg her to stay. She didn’t attempt to exit, however, stopping instead when they were toe-to-toe. “You just decided I wouldn’t try to compromise or make our relationship all right for both of us? I’d grown up while you were gone. And we loved each other enough to make it work.”

  Not enough to give you a real home. A safe, secure one. With a deed attached.

  “There was no compromise. I couldn’t support you then—I didn’t know how.” He raked stiff fingers through his hair. “I made the decision I thought was best for you. You were the only thing that ever mattered.”

  River opened her mouth then closed it, falling back a step in a way that made Vaughn frown. “God, I-I really want to hate you for making that decision for us, but I…”

  He stepped forward, countering River’s backward progress. “You what, doll?”

  “I made a decision for us, too. That night. Or maybe it wasn’t a decision at all, because I barely remember anything past being so scared. I didn’t know how to reach you.” Her voice hitched on the last word, one hand coming to rest on her throat. “Maybe I hadn’t grown up while you were gone. Not as much as I thought. I was a grown woman, and I didn’t even consider the consequences…of sleeping together without…” She blew a breath up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t on the pill.”

  Gravity pushed down on Vaughn’s shoulders, even as his insides seemed to elevate, straight up into his neck. “You…” He cleared the rust from his voice. “You weren’t on the pill.”

  River spoke in a whisper. “No.” She fell back a few more steps toward the bed, and Vaughn stalked her, lifting his hands to clamp them on either side of her face. “It was wrong. Lying about something so damn important. I know it. But I never would have tried to trap you. It’s why I didn’t try to find you…I refused to even let myself look. It’s why I’ve given you as many outs as I could since you came back.”

  Vaughn erupted forward, branding River’s mouth in a kiss that lacked all control. In an achingly familiar move, they fell back on the bed, River arching beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist with a whimper. His hands couldn’t get satisfaction, roaming down her thighs, squeezing her knees, racing up into her hair. She slapped at his shoulders, writhing beneath him to signal she needed to breathe, and he barely managed to release her mouth. “Our first time without a condom.” His words emerged like shards of glass tearing through muslin. “Christ, I can still remember your hands on my ass, yanking me closer when I came, legs open so wide for it. Oh God, Riv—”

  “I should be more sorry,” she breathed. “I know I should, but I can’t be.”

  She was so damn beautiful, blonde hair fanned out behind her on the bed, it took Vaughn a moment to speak through the crowding of emotion. “I’m not sorry, either, River. You hear me?” He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. “I’ll thank God every day for the rest of my life you did what you did. It’s why we’re here together now.”

  …

  For long moments, they simply breathed into each other’s mouths, blue eyes searching brown, but those exhales turned to pants in short order. River’s relief had freed her, blowing exhilaration up her spine. He’d loved her. Vaughn had loved her, and he didn’t condemn her now for the reckless attempt to reach him she’d made in the heat of the moment, trying to connect with him some how, some way.

  Laying on that crappy motel bed, they were survivors of a self-imposed disaster, and healing became River’s sole purpose, her hands raking down Vaughn’s back to grasp the tight curve of his buttocks, encouraging him to rock against her, to use her as shelter from the fallout from the truth bomb they’d just set off.

  “Take me hard,” River husked, licking the rough skin of Vaughn’s neck as it vibrated with a starved growl. “Make me scream. Make me feel you in my stomach.”

  Her last word ended on a moan when Vaughn pulled her wrists up, crossing them above her head, driving into the notch of her thighs at the same time. “You think after forty-nine months and six days without my woman’s pussy, I’m going to make love to her like some soppy fucking poet, Riv?” He craned his neck to hiss against the valley between her
breasts. “Spread your thighs. The way you did that night for my bare cock.”

  Wicked flashes of pleasure went off at the tips of her nerve endings, a reaction her body knew would only ever come from Vaughn. But something he’d said paused the progress of her knees falling open. “Forty-nine months and six days…”

  She gasped when Vaughn caught her jaw, his fingers firm and unyielding. “No one else. You hear me? There’s been no one else.” Using both of his knees, he widened her thighs with a merciless push. “I’ve spent this whole time behaving as if we were married. It’s the only way I could stay sane. Making believe you were my wife and I’d see you when I got home at night. Maybe I’m a crazy man. I don’t know. I don’t—”

  River freed one of her hands locked above her head, slapping it over Vaughn’s mouth. Her heart had reached its fill line and brimmed over. It couldn’t handle another jolt from the invisible electric paddles in Vaughn’s hands. Between them, their harsh breaths whirled, chests heaving as they stared across the scant inch separating their mouths. “You’re my crazy man.” She tilted her hips beneath him, sliding them back and forth against his huge, protruding erection. “Remind me how crazy, Vaughn.”

  His eyes flickered from aroused to grave for a split second. “Be careful what you wish for, doll.” Throat working up and down, Vaughn reached behind his head, snagged his shirt and yanked it off, baring the rough-hewn body of her fantasies. But, oh God, it was different. Different didn’t do it justice.

  River reached out with gentle fingers and traced the jagged, violent, inked-over scars marring his once-perfect chest. Scars carved in the shape of her name, so crude they appeared as if they’d been inflicted with a dagger. A sound tripped over her trembling lips. “What did you do?”

  “I needed something to remind me I’d been lucky once,” Vaughn murmured. “I know it’s not pretty, Riv, but that ain’t nothing compared to waking up and trying to…exist without you.”