The Secret (Single in Seattle #1) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Single in Seattle Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
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“I didn’t even know that this guy existed,” I begin and gesture to him. “I realize I don’t know you well, but this kind, sweet, funny man hasn’t been around at all since I first met you. The way you are today? That’s sexy, Vaughn. You’re sweet with that baby and at ease with your friends. I like him.

“I admit, I’ve felt the chemistry between us since our first meeting, but I don’t like the arrogant, cocksure jerk you seem to portray to the world. It’s a mask, and it’s fake, and I don’t like him at all.”

“I just—”

“I’m not done.” He raises his eyebrows but closes his mouth. “I understand that you have a public image—I understand it better than you know. But I’m not interested in that surface person, even if it’s just a physical relationship. It’s just not what I want in my life.”

“Understood,” he says quietly. “It’s habit. I’ve put up walls for reasons.”

“Like I said, I get it. But if that’s the person I get to be around, the one behind the walls? I don’t want any part of it.”

“That’s not what I want, either,” he admits. “Just like I wouldn’t want that from you.”

“No. You wouldn’t.”

He’s still standing, his hands in his pockets, watching me. My fingers itch to dive into his hair. It’s been hard to be here with him and not touch him. But I couldn’t while the others were here.

Whenever he’s near, it’s like static electricity consumes my whole body. I almost hum with it.

It’s the craziest sensation.

“Come here,” he says quietly.

I can’t do anything but comply.

I prowl to him, enjoying how his green eyes darken as I approach.

His hands don’t come out of his pockets as I drag mine up his chest to his neck and, finally, into his thick, soft hair.

He frees his hands and easily lifts me into his arms. With his eyes on mine, he walks into the house, up a wide staircase, and into what I assume is his bedroom.

“No kitchen counter?”

“Later.” His lips tip up into a smile. “I’ve been dreaming about getting you in my bed, and that’s where I’ll have you.”

“I’m not complaining.”

His lips descend on mine in a hot promise of what’s to come. Not hard and frenzied but hot and needy.

Like having me here, under him, is the only thing in the world that he needs in this moment.

It could make a girl drunk.

He gently brushes my hair off my cheek and lazily dances his fingertips over my skin, setting me on fire.

I arch against him, and he groans.

I slide my leg over his, and he takes a long, deep breath.

“I’m trying to go slow, to make this last, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I have to touch you,” I murmur and drag my finger over his bottom lip. “Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t care why,” he says and kisses my fingertip. “I only care that you’re here. You hurt my feelings yesterday, and that doesn’t happen often these days.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply honestly. “I really am. And, likewise.”

“Now we know what not to do.” He sinks in to kiss me some more, and it’s like a tidal wave of lust, emotion, and feeling like it’s right.

That being here with him is exactly where I’m meant to be.

We shift from lazy to urgent as we strip each other out of the clothes so rudely in our way, and when my hands meet warm, bare flesh, I let out a long, satisfied moan.

“I want you,” he whispers before biting the fleshy part of my shoulder. “Jesus, I don’t stop wanting you.”

“I’m right here.” My hands drift up and down his bare back. I’m beneath him, his elbows pressed into the mattress at my shoulders, and with his eyes on mine, he presses into me.

It’s so much more personal. So much more than the first time in his kitchen.

He takes one of my hands in his, kisses my fingers, and then presses the back of that hand above my head as he begins to move.

Time seems to stand still. Nothing and no one else in the world exists except for Vaughn and me in this very moment.

And I know that I’ll never be the same.

“I have to go home,” I inform Vaughn an hour later. We’ve been lying lazily, watching the shadows of the day dance on the walls of his room.

“Just stay the night,” he suggests.

“I can’t.” I sigh and look over at him. “I have roommates, and they’ll worry if I don’t come home.”

“Just tell them you’re safe and won’t be back.”

I grin and cup his face in my hand. “It doesn’t work that way. I’m keeping you a secret for a while. Not because I’m unsure or ashamed, but because it’s nice that it’s just for us, even if it’s only for a little while. Does that sound stupid?”


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