19. VANESSA
VANESSA
I spend an hour getting ready for my first stay-in date with Paris.
Since we want to keep our relationship a secret, not going out in public is a must. So we agreed to takeout and a movie at home.
I’m probably overdressed for it. I’m wearing my favorite pair of jeans, the ones that makes my ass look fucking amazing, and a pretty top with a low neckline to show off my cleavage.
I’d be wearing heels too, if it weren’t for my sprained ankle.
I asked Heather if she could spend the night at her boyfriend Leo’s place, so when I find her in the kitchen eating instant noodles, my disposition sours.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Relax. I’m leaving as soon as I finish dinner.”
“You couldn’t eat at Leo’s?”
“I’m hungry now.”
Glowering, I cross my arms. “You’d better not be here when Paris arrives.”
“And if I am, so what? I’ve already seen everything.” She smirks.
“I still think you knew he was in my room when you barged in.”
Unfazed, she swallows a mouthful of noodles. “Think whatever you want. I don’t get why you want to date him in secret though. You guys have been into each for a long time. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that.”
“That’s such bullshit. Paris and I barely interacted with each other at Rushmore unless he was defending his ex.”
“If you say so.” She shrugs.
“I do. Anyway, family drama and that fucking bitch drove us apart the first time. We want to date in peace for a while.”
“Oh please. You were only thirteen. There’s no chance a relationship then would have lasted more than a few months.”
She couldn’t be more wrong, and the thought makes my stomach coil tightly.
“Right, then explain to me why Paris dated Lydia for so long.”
Heather sets down her bowl and grows serious. “Lydia is a conniving snake. She took advantage of Paris’s grief to sink her claws into him. And didn’t you just find out that she stole your poem and claimed she wrote it?”
I grimace. I told Heather the story this morning. “Don’t remind me. I want to punch her in the throat for that one alone.”
“But you can’t do it because of your position on the Ravens. I get it. Maybe I can do revenge for you.” She smiles in a chilling way.
I narrow my eyes. “You’ve been watching too much Netflix.”
“So? Do you want to know why Paris put up with all her bullshit?”
My spine goes taut as my interest piques. It seems Heather knows more about the details of Paris and Lydia’s relationship than I do.
I wave my hand. “Go on. You’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Every time she wanted to manipulate Paris into doing something, she threatened to kill herself.”
My blood turns cold, and a new knot forms in my chest. “How do you know that?”
She shrugs. “I can’t remember where I heard the story, but it didn’t come from only one source. You can’t tell me it doesn’t fit her personality to pull shit like that. Can you imagine what that was like for Paris? I mean, he lost his brother to suicide.”
I hug my middle, feeling wretched. “He probably felt he couldn’t let that happen again.”
“Exactly.” She rinses her bowl and sticks it in the dishwasher. “Anyway, I’d better go. I don’t want to make Paris uncomfortable with my presence.”
In a daze, I veer for the couch. It takes a couple minutes for Heather to leave, but I know she does when the front door bangs shut.
I’m reeling from what she told me, sad beyond measure that Paris had to deal with that fucker for so long.
I really should beat the shit out of her for all the suffering she caused.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel moisture on my cheeks. Damn it. There goes my makeup.
I jump from the couch, ready to run—more like hop—to my bathroom to check the damage, but a knock on the front door stops me short.
Shit. It must be Paris. I don’t want to make him wait outside.
I change direction, but before I open the door for him, I look at my reflection in the mirror and wipe the corners of my eyes. The smudging was minimal.
I open the door with a smile that’s a little forced.
It changes into something genuinely radiant when I see Paris standing there in all his six-foot-four glory, holding a bouquet of pink roses along with the takeout containers.
My heart does a somersault in my chest as tingles of excitement ripple through my body.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hello, kitten.”
I step back to allow him in, and then close the door. The smell of delicious Chinese food invades the space, but even though I was hungry before, food is now the last thing on my mind.
“Are those for me?” I eye the roses when all he does is stare at me with a grin.
“Ah, yes.” He hands over the bouquet. “I was a little distracted.”
I bring the flowers to my nose before I thank him for them. “They’re beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.”
I laugh, making Paris blush. He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. That was corny.”
Stepping into his space, I kiss his cheek. “Lucky for you, I love corny.”
His free arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against his body.
His mouth finds mine next, and I melt into his embrace.
If I could, I’d never stop kissing him. Happiness should be the only thing pumping into my heart, but instead, overwhelming sadness breaks through.
I could have had him like this for much longer if Lydia hadn’t interfered.
Reluctantly, I pull back. “I’d better put these in a vase.”
I sense him watching me as I limp to the kitchen. I don’t care to use the crutches in the house, so moving around is a little slow.
He follows me and sits on a high stool by the kitchen counter, setting the food there. “Is something wrong?”
I whip my face in his direction. “What? No. Why are you asking?”
His gaze narrows. “Kitten, don’t lie to me. You look sad. Did something happen?”
Giving my attention to the flowers, I don’t answer him. I don’t know what to say without bringing up Lydia, and I really don’t want to remind Paris of his ex.
“Vanessa…”
I let out a heavy sigh and look into his eyes again. “I want to tell you something.”
He sits straighter in his chair. “Okay.”
“I didn’t abandon you when you lost your brother.
When I found out what happened, I begged my parents to take me to see you.
They didn’t think it was a good idea, despite my pleas.
I went anyway on my bike. But when I got there, Lydia answered the door, and she wouldn’t let me through.
Then another woman showed up—I think she was your aunt.
I mean, she looked a bit like your mother.
Anyway, she told me you weren’t in any condition to see anyone.
I left, and it started to rain heavily.” I touch the faint scar near my elbow.
“What happened?”
“I was almost hit by a car, ended up falling off my bike and breaking my arm. That’s why I didn’t see you.
I wound up in the ER, and after that, my parents grounded me.
I did convince my father to drive me to your house the next day to deliver the letter.
But when my parents finally eased off my punishment, you were…
” I drop my gaze to the counter. “It didn’t look like you needed me anymore. ”
“She was just a friend then. She didn’t become my girlfriend until freshman year of high school.”
“Well, same difference.”
He walks around the counter and pulls me into his arms. “I’m glad you told me. I’m also a bit mad that you could have gotten really hurt because of me.”
“I was heartbroken for you. I wanted to be there.”
He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “But is that why you’re sad? It’s in the past, kitten. All that matters is that we’re together now.”
I lower my gaze to the hollow of his throat, trying to hide the truth. It’s probably pointless. He must see it in my eyes. I don’t want to reveal what Heather told me though.
“I was sad because, thanks to my parents being stubborn mules, the accident, and Lydia acting like a soap opera villain, you got stuck in an unhealthy relationship.”
He pinches my chin with his forefinger and thumb and lifts my face. “Maybe I had to go through that to appreciate what I have now.”
He’s right. I’m acting like a Debbie Downer.
I lift my right foot and then rise on the tip of my toes with my left so I can reach Paris’s mouth.
We don’t waste time with small kisses. Our mouths crash together hungrily, impatient, and I know dinner will be forgotten for a while.
He picks me up and goes straight to my room.
I don’t notice the plastic bag in his hand until he sets me down on the bed and empties it over the mattress.
Three large boxes of condoms bounce off.
“Oh my God. Did you get a month’s supply?”
“One month? Are you insane? That won’t last a week.” He grabs the hem of his T-shirt and peels it off.
His pecs and arms flex, making my mouth water. I know exactly what I’m doing to him first. I stand up and push him on the bed.
“What are you doing, kitten?” he asks through a smile.
“I’m taking charge.” I flatten my palms against his solid chest and nudge him back. “Lie down and let me have my fun.”
His eyes turn smoldering in a flash. He cups the back of my head and pulls me to him for another gloriously hot kiss. Desire pools between my legs, making my clit throb. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn jeans.
Before Paris decides to take control, I pull back and push off him so I can get rid of my clothes.
He leans up on his elbows and watches me through hooded eyes.
I take off my pants first but leave my underwear on.
My long top covers them. Paris doesn’t seem to mind.
His attention is on my thighs, and his heated gaze feels like a caress.
“I love what soccer does for you, babe.”
My lips curl into a grin. “I bet you do, but these have nothing to do with sports.” I pull my top off and lob it to the side. I’m not wearing a bra, so instantly, Paris’s gaze fixes on my breasts.
He stretches out an arm. “Come here, kitten. Let me feast on your lovely tits.”
I wag my forefinger. “Oh no, sir. I said I was in charge, and I want to feast on you .”
I straddle his thighs and then lower my mouth to his chest, licking the area around his nipple.
He hisses, and then curls his fingers around a strand of my hair.
I tease him a bit before biting softly, then I switch to the other side.
While my tongue is busy, I run my fingers up and down his washboard abs, stopping my caress when my fingers reach the waistband of his pants.
“Vanessa, babe, what are you doing to me?” he asks in a raspy whisper.
“I’m exploring.”
I pepper open kisses down his stomach, loving how he responds to me. His breathing is shallow, and his erection is straining against the fabric of his jeans.
“I want to explore too.”
“Soon.”
I unbutton his pants, and then open his fly slowly. Paris, impatient man that he is, lifts his ass and pushes the fabric as low as he can.
“Hey, I was going to do that,” I complain half-heartedly.
“I’ll let you peel them off my legs—just please get rid of them.”
I was planning on tasting him, but I can’t say no when he sounds like he’s about to die.
I should have known it was a ruse. I need to slide off him to remove his jeans, and no sooner are they gone than he tackles me, flipping me over on the mattress so he’s on top.
“Hey, that’s not fair. I call foul play.”
“Sorry, kitten. You weren’t playing fair either.” He thrusts his hips forward, rubbing his hard cock against my core.
We’re both still wearing our underwear, but the friction alone is making me lightheaded.
Or maybe it’s the skillful way he mingles his tongue with mine, taking and giving in equal measure.
I forget my original plan and surrender to him.
He’s in no hurry to fuck me though. Instead, he mimics what’s to come, grinding his pelvis against mine.
My panties are soaked through when I climax out of the blue.
I usually know when it’s about to happen. Not this time.
“Oh my God, Paris. Don’t stop,” I beg him between feverish kisses.
He grunts in response, making me wonder why he isn’t as chatty as the last time. I miss his filthy mouth, but I don’t mind what his tongue is doing one bit. My body relaxes against the mattress as the wave of my release subsides.
He pulls back, resting his forearms on the mattress. “How are you feeling, kitten?”
“Pretty good.” I smile.
“Do you know what I want to do now?” He runs his fingers over my collarbone.
“Eat dinner?”
He rewards me with a crooked smile. “Close.” He brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, “I want to eat your pussy.”
“Hmm. Only if I get to taste you at the same time.”
“Deal.”