Page 20 of Vanilla


  “Hey, baby, wow, thank you.” I kissed him on the mouth, then the cheek, and drank thirstily. I caught a glimpse of his expression as he let me past him into the living room. “What?”

  “Just glad to see you, that’s all. You look...different.” Niall swept me with his gaze. “Turn around.”

  I set down my glass on the coffee table and spun, showing off my cute summer frock. It wasn’t one of the ones Olivia had taken pictures of me in, but it was from the same shop. Sleeveless gray-and-white-checked cotton with a scooped neckline and a cute matching belt. The dress made me feel feminine and powerful because, wearing it, I also felt pretty. Paired with black pointy-toed flats, I also felt like I wanted to twirl and dip, so I did with the weight of his gaze on me making me blush.

  “I was doing some pictures with Olivia,” I explained when he still looked quizzical.

  Niall frowned, though he tried to hide it. “Ah. Alone, or...?”

  Jealous, but not willing to admit it? Laughing, I pressed against him, my fingers linked behind his neck. I tipped my face for a kiss, which he gave me.

  “Alone,” I said. “Are you going to ask me to stop modeling?”

  “You’re an adult woman. It’s not my place to tell you what you should do.”

  It was the right answer, but it rang a little false. I kissed him again, just a brush of our lips this time. “But you want to. Don’t you?”

  Niall’s hands settled on my hips, and he inched me closer. “Yeah. Kind of.”

  I had to force myself to keep my voice light when I replied. “You know, I had a guy ask me to stop modeling once.”

  Niall’s eyes narrowed. “I guess you didn’t.”

  “No, I did. For the few weeks we went out, sure I did.” I shook my head. “I’m not a total bitch, Niall. And yes, there are things I like, but I’ve dated a few guys who weren’t into the props and rituals, and that was okay, too. Not everything is my way or the highway. I might not like being told what to do, but that doesn’t mean if I’m asked nicely that I won’t at least consider it. I might be selfish, but I like to think I’m not completely self-absorbed.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  We swayed, dancing in a slow circle without music to guide us. We didn’t need any. We were perfectly in sync.

  “I don’t like to think of you doing that sort of thing with someone else, that’s all.” He shrugged.

  We stopped moving. I pushed up on my toes to kiss him again then hug him. I whispered into his ear, “Pictures are pictures, Niall. Modeling is like acting. None of that is real.”

  “But it’s real for you,” he said. “I mean, it’s still your thing. I guess I wouldn’t like it, then, if you were doing your thing with someone else, for real or for pretend. If you’re mine, you’re mine. I don’t want you with anyone else.” He frowned briefly. His fingers tightened on my hips.

  I swooned a little. Okay, a lot. “Am I, then? Yours?”

  “Do you want to be?”

  I kissed him again. Slower this time. Lingering. The swipe of his tongue sent a shiver all through me, and when I pulled back, I’m sure my eyes were as bright as his.

  “What are we doing, exactly, Niall Black?”

  “I’m tryin’,” he said, “to court you.”

  A month of bowling and dinner and movies. Kisses on the front step and late-night phone calls. Goofy texts. Flowers and perfect iced tea. And, other than the night of William’s Bar Mitzvah, we hadn’t done anything more than make out.

  “It’s a big responsibility, you know. Keeping me happy,” I said against his mouth. My fingers toyed with the length of his hair in the back, and when he shivered, I grinned. “I can be very particular.”

  “I know, I know,” Niall said. “Lime in the iced tea, not lemon.”

  I’d been dreamy, teasing, but at this I pushed away from him then so I could turn and keep my face from him. Not because I was mad or sad, but because in all my life, there’d never been a man who’d bothered to pay attention to such a small detail...or who got it right.

  And then he hit a home run.

  “You were left-handed as a kid,” he continued in a low voice from behind me. “But someone must’ve made you switch, huh?”

  Slowly, I turned, my heart pounding so hard it’s a wonder it didn’t block out the sound of anything but its beating. “Yes. My mother. Evan was right-handed, and she thought I should be, too. The kindergarten teacher said nobody forced lefties to switch any longer, but my mom insisted anyway. I learned to write right-handed, but yeah...I’m a leftie. I’ve never told anyone that.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me. You automatically reach with your left hand,” he said. “I’ve watched you do it with just about everything. I figured.”

  That was it, then. The moment I knew. Despite how strangely it had begun, the time I’d so far spent with him still so short it was hardly time at all, when I stood in front of him and knew that Niall Black knew me, really fucking knew me, that was it. I was done.

  I was in love.

  * * *

  I made him dinner. Nothing fancy, but it was cozy, the two of us at his tiny kitchen table. We laughed over veggie lasagna, and he cleared the dishes without being asked. I watched him rinse them at the sink before putting them in the dishwasher.

  “A girl could get used to this,” I said. “All you need is an apron. No pants, just the apron.”

  Niall looked at me over his shoulder. “You know, Elise, when you objectify me in that way, it makes me feel all tingly inside.”

  I grinned. “When you do the dishes, it gets me downright full-on horny.”

  “Just think,” he said as he pulled me out of my chair to kiss me, “what would happen if I did your laundry?”

  “You’d kill me! That’s what would happen.” I linked my fingers behind his neck and looked into his eyes as I stroked my fingers through his hair again, loving how silky it was. Thick and dark, a few glints of silver at the temples. “How old are you?”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be a rude question?” He frowned.

  “Hey,” I laughed, “I just had a birthday. You already know how old I am.”

  “I’m older than you.” He nuzzled my throat for a moment. “Does it matter?”

  “No. I guess not. Just curious.” I pretended to scrutinize him. “Do you not want to tell me because you’re ancient, or...?”

  “Ancient, damn. You know how to stab a guy, don’t you? I’m forty. I had my milestone birthday in March.”

  “Wow. Forty. That’s...” I giggled when he poked me. “Sexy. Forty is sexy!”

  He kissed me. I kissed him. Somehow my ass ended up on the table, and the rest of the dishes were forgotten for a few minutes.

  “You’re terrible, you know that?” he said into my ear.

  Surprised, I pushed back. “What? Why?”

  Shaking his head, Niall pulled me closer. “Oh, no, you can’t play that game with me. I see it in your eyes. You’re totally undressing me with them.” I started laughing as he continued, “And listen, I’m not just a sex object, Elise.”

  “I never said...” I couldn’t go on, choking on laughter.

  “You didn’t have to say. It’s all over your face. The sheer, raw animal lust in your eyes!” Niall stood, his hand still in mine, tugging me off the table. “Frankly, I’m both affronted and taken aback.”

  Giggling, I tried to act chastened. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he told me and pulled me closer. “I am pretty sexy, even for some kind of ancient, grizzled grandpa. I know you can’t help being overcome with the lust.”

  “You totally are, and I totally am.” I pushed onto my tiptoes to kiss him gently. “Thank you for taking pity on me and stopping me before I do something crazy.”

  “Like rip my clothes off and have your wicked way with me?”

  “Yes, like that.” I laughed again at his expression. “I know. The horror.”

  For a moment, both of us smiled and looked into each other?
??s eyes but said nothing. He linked his fingers in mine and tugged me into the living room, where he put on a streaming comedy from Interflix, and we settled on the couch to watch. Several minutes after it started, Niall gave an enormous fake yawn and stretched to put his arm around my shoulders. Laughing, I snuggled in.

  “Smooth,” I told him.

  “Hey, I don’t want you to get scared off if I move too fast.” He shifted a little closer and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Got to keep my girl happy.”

  It’s what George had always said, and I frowned at how suddenly and viscerally I reacted to it. “Ugh...don’t...don’t call me that.”

  Niall looked at me. “No? Sorry. I should call you a woman? Or a lady, I’m never sure what’s politically correct.”

  “It’s not...ugh. I don’t mind being referred to as a girl. Or I thought I didn’t.” I shifted to angle toward him. “The last real relationship I had, he always called me his girl.”

  “And you didn’t like it when he called you that?” Niall took his arm from around my shoulders, which wasn’t at all what I’d wanted him to do.

  “I did. At the time. But you know how it is.” I shrugged. “When you’re hot and heavy with someone and you put up with things you don’t normally like, or you do things you wouldn’t normally do because somehow...with them...it’s okay.”

  Neither of us had moved, but there was an abrupt and vast distance between us. Niall looked at the TV, but he wasn’t laughing. I looked at him.

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry. Would you rather I didn’t tell you when I don’t like something?”

  He twisted to face me. “No. I just don’t like that something I did made you think of someone else, that’s all. When you’re with me, I guess I want you to be thinking of me.”

  “Ah.” I chewed the inside of my lip for a second. “That’s fair.”

  “I guess I need to know if I’m being compared,” Niall said.

  This surprised me enough that I took his hand to squeeze it. “Wow. No. I mean, sure, but favorably.”

  “I guess that’s better than not favorably.” His smile was thin.

  I sighed, thinking almost guiltily of all those late-night texts and how long I’d been holding on. I hadn’t texted George since Niall and I had started dating, but he didn’t need to know any of that. “It was a long time ago, and it didn’t end well. Scars, remember? If I compare you at all, it’s only because everyone compares. I’m sure you’ve had girlfriends you’re comparing me to.”

  He looked caught then nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Oh, do tell.” I perked up, interested and curious but also fighting off a pang of jealousy.

  “I had a few” was all he said, but I wasn’t going to let him get off that easy.

  Kneeling on the couch, I took his face in my hands as though I meant to kiss him, but when he moved to let his lips touch mine, I shifted just enough that he’d have to really reach for it. “That’s it? Just a few? Nobody special?”

  “Are you asking me if I have baggage?” His hands settled on my hips, holding me close in a way I wouldn’t notice unless I tried to pull away again. But I noticed.

  “Everyone has baggage. I’m just trying to figure out how many girls have broken your heart before.” I tried to make it sound light. I meant it to. But my voice cracked and chipped a little on the words.

  Niall kissed me. “They all did, in their own ways.”

  “That’s terrible.” I frowned and settled onto his lap to tuck my face against his neck. I put my hand on his chest, over his heart. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s what happens,” he said against my hair. “How many broke yours?”

  “Just the one,” I said. “Believe me, that was enough.”

  We were quiet for a while. I timed my breathing to his. In, out.

  He’d hung my picture on the wall in the living room, which alternatingly made me feel odd and exhilarated, though I’d never so much as pointed out that I saw where he’d put it.

  “I don’t want to break your heart,” I whispered.

  Niall was quiet for a few seconds before he said, “I’ll try not to let you.”

  That was an answer that could’ve been taken a few different ways, but I didn’t dig for an explanation. I kissed his throat, his jaw then his mouth. He ran his fingers through my hair to tug my head back, and I liked the little bit of pain, enough that it made me sigh.

  “Was it the guy you were seeing when we first met?”

  I didn’t really want to talk to Niall about Esteban, either. That was still fresh and stung, not as fiercely as thoughts of George, but still somewhat. “No. He wasn’t a boyfriend. We had sex, but we didn’t date.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that wasn’t in the rules. My thing with him was...” I paused, trying to think of a way to describe it. “Special. And sweet. And very sexy. It was something I’d been hoping to find for a long time but had only managed to get pieces of before, from a few different people. We stumbled through it a little bit, but I think we both also figured out how to get what we needed. He didn’t break my heart.”

  I’d been too glowing about it, I saw that written all over Niall’s face. But I wasn’t going to denigrate or downplay what I’d shared with Esteban just to make some other guy feel better. Shit, I’d had lovers and bad breakups and casual sex. If Niall had a problem with any of that, I’d better find out now.

  His brow furrowed. “So why’d you break it off?”

  “I didn’t. He did.” I had to clear my throat when I said that, unable to keep the slight bitterness from my tone. “Just before the Bar Mitzvah.”

  “Is that why you went upstairs with me?”

  I let go of Niall’s hand. In the background, zany hijinks on the screen provided an ironic backdrop to our unexpectedly serious conversation. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Because you’d been dumped. Or you broke up, whatever you want to call it. Did you go upstairs with me because you were trying to get over him?” Niall sounded more curious than angry, but I was still going to tread really, really carefully.

  “No. I went upstairs with you because you knew how to dance. And because I find you very attractive. And because I wanted to.” I stopped myself from chewing the inside of my cheek again. I was going to cut myself if I wasn’t careful.

  “And you were single.”

  “I was single when I was fucking him,” I said sharply. “I was free to do whatever I wanted, and so was he. That was part of the agreement. No questions, no explanations. And I was still fucking him when I met you, and I agreed to go out with you then, so it had nothing to do with him breaking it off.”

  “Why’d he break it off?”

  I hesitated, unsure if this was drifting into argument territory. “I don’t know. He didn’t actually break up with me. He just stopped messaging me.”

  “Shit bird,” Niall said almost conversationally.

  My chuckle surprised me. “Yeah. Not cool.”

  “And before him? What did those guys do that you didn’t like? The one who hurt you so much. What did he do?”

  I hesitated again. “Seriously, Niall, what the hell?”

  “I want to know what you don’t like,” he told me, “so I don’t do it.”

  This dried my mouth. I sipped iced tea, trying to find a way to reply to that. I couldn’t, at first. I gave him a sideways smile, instead.

  “I mean it,” he said.

  “And what about what I do like? You want me to tell you what I like, so you can do that?” I had to put the glass down because my shaking hands were going to give me away.

  “Well...yeah,” he said as though there could be no other answer.

  Switch flipped. Bell rung. If my clit were wired with a Klaxon alarm, it would’ve started blaring.

  Then I was on his lap, and his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands roamed all over me until with a couple of matching gasps, we broke apart. Niall had that look in his eyes, the one
I craved and adored and got off on. Hazy desire tempered with what I thought was contemplation. He looked like a guy with a plan. I hoped it involved his mouth on other parts of me.

  Self-confidence can so easily be eroded by the simplest of things. Dominant doesn’t mean invulnerable. Thinking of the last time I’d pushed him to go a little faster and he’d refused, I didn’t move. I waited. Crazy with tension and anticipation. I was dying from it, but oh, what a fucking beautiful way to go.

  Finally, with a groan, Niall slid his hand between my legs. The pretty vintage dress slid up my thighs without resistance. Beneath I wore soft cotton panties that provided a teasing barrier to his touch. He stroked lightly. I sighed happily against his mouth.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Niall shifted my weight a little to cradle me more easily. His thumb moved slowly, firmly. When I arched, he laughed into the kiss. Beneath my ass, the press of his hardening cock added to my arousal. When I wriggled a little, he groaned.

  We kissed like that for a while. He’d ease me to the edge, then expertly keep me there until I could no longer stop myself from moving, lifting my hips to press myself harder against his fingers. I wasn’t expecting it when he slipped them inside my panties, or when he filled me with two fingers, his thumb still working on my clit.

  “You’re so wet for me,” he said into my mouth. “Fuck, Elise.”

  “Feels so good...”

  Niall let his head fall against the back of the couch. “Son of a bitch!”

  Not the words I expected to come out of his mouth, that was for sure. “What’s wrong?”

  He looked at me, his fingers still inside me but not moving. “You’re going to kill me.”

  “Uh-oh.” I shifted so he could move his hand. “Why?”

  “I don’t have any condoms.”

  “What?” I punched his shoulder. “You got two knuckles deep inside me before you remembered that?”