*~*Home by JA Huss Blitz – Excerpt & Giveaway*~*

MovieStar @VaughnAsher
@FilthyBlueBird #DirtyHeaven is mine tonight.

Grace @FilthyBlueBird
@VaughnAsher I own #DirtyHeaven, bitch. #VaughnAsherIsMyBitch

MovieStar @VaughnAsher
@FilthyBlueBird #FlashbackTime Get ready.

Grace @FilthyBlueBird
Come here and take off my lip gloss @VaughnAsher #OnMyKneesWaiting

MovieStar @VaughnAsher
@FilthyBlueBird #Flashback to last night. Oh, you weren’t wearing lip gloss. But you are now. #GetOnYourKneesAndWait

Grace @FilthyBlueBird
@VaughnAsher – Dabbing lips with a napkin. #ThatAllYouGot?

Finally… Grace sees me in a different light. The banter is flirty, the sex is fun, and the future looks fabulous. I just hope she feels the same way when she finds out what I did.

He leans forward and the shadow that was covering his face disappears. He’s still wearing his suit, but the top buttons of his white shirt are undone, leaving his chest exposed. A dark tie is draped around his neck like he was thinking of taking it off and then changed his mind.

“Did you have a nice day?” he asks in a low voice.

I just stare at him. His blue eyes are piercing me, even through the shadows of night. “No, not exactly. I mean, parts of it were.”

“Which parts? The part where you took off in the plane? The part where you ditched the car that was set up for you? The part where you didn’t think to call me?”

I swallow hard. Because he’s pissed off.

“Come here,” he commands in a low, do-not-fuck-with-me voice.

I swallow again and my heart is beating so fast it might explode.

“I said, come the fuck over here.” He stands up and I step back.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Are you mad?”

“Am I mad?” he asks me back, taking a few steps closer to me. “Am I mad?” He continues walking until he’s one step away and I have to tip my head up to look him in the face.

I never realized how big he actually is. He towers over me.

“Do I have a reason to be mad, Grace?”

“I should’ve called,” I say meekly.

“Called? You think I’m angry because you didn’t call?”

“So you are angry?”

He smiles at me, but it’s not a happy smile. It’s an I-can’t-fucking-believe-you’re-so-clueless smile. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Grace?”

“What?”

“Wrong with you,” he repeats.

“I’m not sure how to answer that.”

HIs smile is tight as he stares at me. Not really a smile, but a grimace. “Do you love me?”

“Of course I love you.”

“Good. You keep that in mind.” And then, before I can even understand what’s happening, he whips his tie off and grabs my wrist. I start to pull away, but he yanks me back. “Hold still.”

“What are you doing?”

“You owe me.”

“I owe you what?” I snap at him. But he doesn’t answer. He just ties the length of silk around my wrist and reaches for the other one. “What are you doing?”

He glares down at me as he pulls the knot tight. Tight enough to make me wince. “I’m tying you up.”

“You want to get off on your sexual fantasies? Now?”

“Turn around.” He doesn’t wait for me to even do that. He just twirls me until I’m no longer facing him. “Walk over to the couch.”

He gives my back a push to get me started and I do as I’m told. I start to sit down, but Vaughn grabs my hair and pulls me hard enough to stop that from happening.

“Ow. Goddammit! What are you doing?”

He yanks my hair harder and leads me around to the back of the couch. “Bend over.” He pushes me again and I fall forward. My hands try to brace myself, but he swipes them forward so they drape over the cushion and then bumps his cock against my ass. My face rests on something very plush and soft and I realize it’s a sheepskin rug.

“What are—”

“Shut up.”

What? “Who the fuck—” A hard smack lands on my ass and I jump. It stings all the way through my jeans. “Vaughn!” Another, this one even harder. I yelp and try to wiggle away from his grip. “Stop!”

“Stop? You want me to stop, Grace? We don’t have a safe word, so if you tell me to stop, I’m fucking stopping. But let me tell you this, sweets. You fucking owe me.”

“What is wrong with you?” I whimper.

“Wrong with me? Am I the one sleeping all damn day? Am I the one walking around here feeling sorry for myself? Am I the one flying a thousand miles away without telling you where I’m fucking at?”

“I’m sorry for not calling.”

“This isn’t about calling me. I’m not your babysitter. I’m your goddamned husband. I’m not interested in tracking your every move, Grace. I have security for that. And you know I have security for that. This is about your lack of commitment. Your lack of enthusiasm. Your lack of respect. And most of all, your lack of… being Grace.”