Vaughan Grey

Vaughan Grey was a bastard. A real son of a bitch. Just the sort of man that women fell hard for. He was a self made man who behaved like old money, a schemer who came off like a man of leisure. He was a sworn bachelor, and highly successful at the sport of bachelorhood.

Until, that it, he met Velvet Calder; seventeen-year-old, irresistible Velvet Calder—Sole heiress to the Calder Home Appliance fortune, and the darling of Cedar County.

Now Vaughan had had his share of pretty girls. He’d had prettier, if fact and he’d even had younger, certainly, and he’d had richer. But when his cool, appraising glance strayed across the image of Miss Calder at The Twelfth Annual Cedar County Charity Golf Event sponsored by Calder Appliance and Aschere Silver, he was hard-pressed to look away.

He was with a pretty little piece of ass at the time—some college aged debutante willing to spread her legs in the rough behind the seventh green—but even a vigorous fuck with the eager young thing hadn’t sated his lust for the frail little brunette he’d spotted during the mimosa and bloody-mary send-off.

It was at cocktails after the tournament that he finally approached the heiress. After having his college deb suck him off behind the clubhouse he turned her loose on the open bar and gourmet buffet. He had other prey in mind.

He didn’t wait for a polite introduction, as he was sure she was accustomed to and expecting, but simply strode up to her, kissed her hand like something out of an old Hollywood film, and told her she took his breath away.

Possibly coming from any other man, besides perhaps Cary Grant, this would have prompted a skeptical eyebrow and an almost certain ’good-bye’ from the young lady. But for Vaughan Grey, it produced results.

Even as he pressed his lips to Velvet’s smooth alabaster hand he could still smell a hint of his date’s pussy on his fingers. It made his smile all the more debonair as he straightened up.

“Well, Thank You Mr. Grey” she breathed with a perfect smile and an even more perfectly timed eyelash flutter. “I’m Velvet Calder.” She introduced herself with such an earnest innocence, as if she wasn’t fully aware that everyone already knew who she was at an event hosted and sponsored by her family.

He wanted to taste her. Her skin, her lips, those immaculate, pert breasts, between her legs—He vowed to sample her that very night.