Page 1 of Cole's Command

Prologue

Cole Vaughn

Passion brimmed in his veins as Cole watched the blonde wander into the room. He’d invited her back from the club he and his brothers frequented, hoping the devils that he’d seen beckoning in her eyes on the dimly-lit dance floor were still as alluring in the light of his living room.

She was attractive. No doubt about that, but increasingly, Cole’s one-night stands left him feeling unsatisfied and he wanted this one—this woman—to be the one who broke the mold.

“Like what you see?” Collecting the drinks he’d prepared while she’d used the bathroom, he closed the distance between them and offered her a glass.

“Definitely.” She smiled, displaying her freshly glossed lips. “I love Club Indigo, but sometimes, you can’t hear yourself think in there.”

“I agree.”

He clinked his glass to hers in an impromptu toast, lifting his drink to his lips and sipping while he watched her. Around the same age as he was, the woman was conventionally pretty with big blue eyes and long eyelashes, but it was what she was hiding beneath her little black dress that had Cole excited. He hadn’t enjoyed decent sex for weeks, and he was hoping she could be the woman who gave him what he wanted—a show of sexy submission as well as a thunderous orgasm.

Skimming a fingertip beneath the strap of her dress, Cole eased it down the woman’s pale skin. Her breath caught at his light touch, speeding up when he dragged the second strap down to her other elbow.

“You’re gorgeous,” he told her, catching her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his free hand. “I bet you hear that all the time.”

“Maybe.” Her smile was mischievous as she broke away from his hand and giggled. Glancing around, her eyes widened as she took in the expensive artwork his brother, Sebastian, had bought. She replaced one of the straps he’d dislodged. “I love your place. The paintings are incredible.

“Thanks.”

Cole frowned, disappointed that she’d wiggled away at his first advance, but breathing in the scent of the amber liquid swirling around his glass, he told himself to be patient.

We’ve only just arrived. Give her time to drink, relax, and get to know you.

But Cole didn’t want the mysterious blonde to get to know him, and he didn’t care to know her, either. That was the problem. He was sure she was lovely; bright, happy and going places, but all he wanted when he’d asked her back to his home was to get between her legs. This was about sex and nothing more. He’d selected her because of her fabulous body and come-to-bed eyes, but without the allure of the club, his plan to ravish her was waning. When she’d accepted his invitation, he’d expected a frenzied fireworks display of lust and desire. Not a tour of the house and a chat.

“Shall we sit down?” Gesturing to the oversized couch, he strode toward it, not waiting for her reply.

“Okay, sure.”

She sounded anything but sure as she walked over to him, her eyes darting from the sofa, to the door, and then back again.

“Why don’t you come a little closer?” he urged, extending one arm and making room for her beside him. “I promise I won’t bite unless you want me to.”

Suppressing the desire to laugh, he watched as she inched in his direction, her body language suggesting it would not have been her first choice of seat. The woman with the red-hot body had no idea how accurate his quip had been. The beast inside Cole had a ravenous appetite and would have been happy to devour her, but ever since they’d gotten out of the taxi, her ardor appeared to have cooled.

“Don’t you want your drink?” he asked, motioning to the glass she’d accepted, but still hadn’t drunk from. “I can get you something else if you prefer?”

Like a one-way trip to my bed.

The words growled around his head, making it difficult for him to concentrate as she fidgeted at his side.

It was all too easy to imagine her there, out of that annoying dress that covered far too much of her appealing form and sprawled out in his ropes, instead. Cole would bet she’d look magnificent stretched out in them, struggling to get away as he helped himself to her every hole. It was that fight that he longed for, the urgency as she grappled for the liberty he denied—that was what stirred his cock as she started to reply.

“I think I’ve got a headache coming,” she explained, lifting the hand not clutching the bourbon and rubbing her temple. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

Oh no, you don’t. He tensed, grappling to get a check on his darker instincts. You don’t get to lead me on all night and then back out the moment I get you through the door.

But Cole knew that was rubbish. The encounter was based on consent, and the fact that this woman had decided Cole wasn’t her particular brand of vodka didn’t change that. He was entitled to feel displeasure at her change of heart, but nothing more.

“The drink, or coming home with me?” he clarified, although he sensed he knew the answer. She hadn’t touched him since they’d left the club.

Shame.

He inhaled at the conclusion, his eyes closing fleetingly as he visualized the inevitable ending to the night. He would play the gentleman, just as he’d been taught to do by his father, Michael, and elder brother, Balthazar. He’d play down her apologies and make sure she got home safely, making pleasant small-talk with her until her ride arrived, because what else could he do?