36. Zayn
Zayn
When I got home from work, I expected Annie to be waiting for me like she always is. I’d open the front door to find her hunched over her computer at the island or watching something on TV.
Except that’s not what happened. She wasn’t there. In any room. When I texted her that I was picking up dinner and coming home and she didn’t text me back, I thought she was just busy. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door and she wasn’t there.
And why am I reacting like this? I have no fucking clue. Annie can leave whenever she wants. She could be at the grocery store or with a friend. Fuck. But knowing the type of morning she had, I flipped.
Annie answered her phone the third time I called. One more try and I would have checked every place in a ten-mile radius and called Cassie to help me find her.
As soon as Annie told me she went to get coffee—the damn coffee shop, I should have known—I left the apartment and headed there.
“Thank you,” I say to the person holding the door open for me.
When I walk into the coffee shop, I’m hit with the smell of coffee and cinnamon. If only I could spend all day here. There’s plenty of seats, low lighting, lots of snacks, and great company. And by great company, I mean Annie, who is currently hunched over her book in the back corner of the shop.
I move toward her but am stopped before I get to her.
“Zayn, hi, huge fan. I was wondering if you could sign this?” a man says to me, holding out his receipt. Is that all he had on hand?
“Uh, sure, do you have a pen?” I ask, flicking my gaze to Annie for a moment to see if she notices me, but nope. She’s still nose down in her book. Must be good.
“Oh, um...” The man pats his pockets, all ten of them (he’s wearing cargo pants), but no pen.
“Here, I’ll ask the barista,” I offer, growing painstakingly impatient as the minutes pass.
Luckily, I don’t have to talk to anyone at the counter. I just grab a pen from a jar and walk back over to the man.
“Who should I address this to?” I ask.
“Jeremy. My wife’s not going to believe I met you here.”
I grumble some nonsense in return, then hand the receipt back to Jeremy.
When he moves out of my path to Annie, two more people replace him.
And that’s how I get stuck signing random pieces of paper, coffee cups, and anything people have on hand.
When I finally finish with the mob of people, one more person stands in my path.
“I’m sorry, I have to—” I start to say, but the words die on my tongue as I look up to find Annie standing in front of me.
“Hi, Z.”
God, she is fucking gorgeous. I grip her shoulders and pull her into a hug, breathing in the familiar smells of cinnamon and vanilla. My own personal dessert.
“Did you miss me or something?” Annie chuckles against my chest. I squeeze her tight one more time before letting her go.
“Or something.” I smile. “I’m sorry, for, uh, freaking out.” My hand tousles my hair.
Annie grabs my hand and leads me to where she was sitting when I first came in.
“Why did you?” Annie asks once we sit.
“You had a bad morning, I didn’t know where you were. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
My gaze meets hers, and I do my best to portray that I’m serious. That she knows that I would do anything for her. She means that much to me.
“I’m okay. I promise.” Her smile isn’t convincing, but I don’t want to push. Not here, not now.
Instead, I throw my arm around the back of the booth and tug her closer.
“Come here,” I say.
Her body relaxes into mine as soon as her head rests on me.
“We will need to talk about New York, right?” she asks.
“We will, but we don’t have to today. I thought we might do something fun instead.”
Annie lifts her head. “You? Do something fun?” she teases.
I roll my eyes and playfully shove her away. “Come on, let’s go.”
I stand up and grab her hand, hoping that this will help improve her mood. One car ride and twenty minutes later, we arrive.
“What are we doing here?” Annie asks, standing outside the door of the shop.
“Well, we have a gala tomorrow and I think you need a new dress.”
“I don’t need a new dress, I can wear one of Marcy’s.”
“I want to buy you a new dress,” I tell her, walking forward to hold open the door.
She entertains me by at least entering the shop.
“Hi.” The store worker greets us. “Let me know if I can help you find something your size.”
“Thank you,” Annie says, smiling. Then, she turns to me. “What now?”
“Let’s find you a dress.” I smile back, loving that she’s letting me spoil her.
It only takes us a few minutes to have a rack full of dresses for her to try on. All different colors, lengths, and styles.
Then, my favorite part, watching her try on all of them. Slowly, her smile starts to reach her eyes, and I know that this is working. She’s beautiful any day of the week, but today she sees it too.
“Z, I need your help,” Annie calls from within the dressing room.
Fuck, when she calls me Z, all blood rushes straight to my dick. Something about her saying it gets to me.
“Okay,” I reply, twisting the knob of the door to open it.
“Can you come in and close the door?” Annie whisper-yells.
The trance I was in dissipates as I shake my head and take two steps forward so I can close the door. Annie is dressed in a dark green dress, a similar color to the first dress she wore with me. It has a deep v in the front, thicker straps, and the back… Dear God, the back droops so low.
I have to clear my throat before speaking. “What, uh, what do you need help with?”
She smirks, knowing what she’s doing to me.
“I think this is the one and wanted your opinion. And I need your help zipping the side.”
“I also think this is the one.” I allow my eyes to slowly take her in. I move toward her, hovering barely a foot away. “You are beautiful.” I lean forward, planting a kiss on the back of her left shoulder as she watches me in the mirror.
With one finger, I trace the side where the zipper has yet to be closed, feeling her smooth skin.
She shudders and her eyes shut. A short breath follows as I plant my lips on her body again.
I find the zipper and move my other hand to help hold the dress in place as I zip it up.
Inch by inch, I move the zipper while planting kisses on her shoulder, her neck, her arm.
Annie’s breathing becomes more ragged by the minute.
“You are fucking delicious. Fuck, Annie.” I let go of the zipper once it’s all the way at the top.
My lips not leaving her shoulder, my eyes flick forward to see her staring at me, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.
“So delicious,” I say and then I bite. Not hard, but enough to leave a mark, sucking on her neck as she leans into me.
“Best be quiet, Princess. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear. Think you can do that for me?”
Annie nods once, quickly.
“I need words, Annie. Tell me no and I’ll stop. Tell me no and I’ll be done. But fuck, tell me yes, and I’ll make sure to make you feel good.”
“No,” Annie says.
I immediately remove my lips from her shoulder and take a step back, temporarily confused by her decision. Annie turns around to face me, her back now toward the mirror.
“I mean no, don’t stop. I can be quiet,” she whispers.
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me beg, Z.”
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I picture her on her knees, but this moment is for her. I step back toward her and twist her around so she’s facing the mirror again. When I was zipping her up, I realized this dress has a slit on the left side, perfect for what I need.
“Watch me fuck you with my fingers, Annie.”
I press long kisses to her shoulder as I trail my hand down her body, my other hand wrapping around her waist to pull her close to me. The slit of her dress is high enough for my hand to reach without having to search for it, and I wonder if she chose it with this in mind.
“The answer is yes,” she whispers again as my hand pushes past the layer of fabric and back up her thigh.
“Fuck, Annie, are you—” I pause, catching a breath before continuing, “are you not wearing any panties?” My finger teases her before landing on her clit to rub small, gentle circles.
“No,” she moans. “I didn’t want lines.”
“You did this and then asked for my help, hoping it’d land you here in front of me. Is that right? You wanted me to fuck this pussy with my fingers.”
“God, Zayn. You’ve got some ego,” Annie says.
“Oh, do I now?” I pull back my hand, but Annie’s hand clasps over it. “Be nice to me, otherwise I might choose to keep you on edge for the rest of today.”
“You wouldn’t.” Annie’s gaze meets mine.
“I would. But you’re lucky I like you a little too much and that you’re just a little bit tempting. You smell like a goddamn bakery and I can’t resist.” I quickly find her clit again, this time rubbing harder, faster, and Annie whimpers.
“Remember, you need to be quiet. Or I stop,” I remind her.
The store is ours for the hour. I made sure no one would bother us, but she doesn’t need to know that. I need her to feel safe, with me, in this moment.
Annie nods and bites her lip, then leans her head back on my shoulder. I can feel her getting close as the minutes pass. My lips return to her neck and my other hand moves to her breast, pinching her nipple through the fabric.
“Fuck, Annie, you are so beautiful,” I tell her again. “Coming undone for me like this, knowing that when you wear this dress you’ll be thinking of this exact moment.”
“I’m coming, Zayn.” She moans, and I follow the pace of her breathing with my finger.
“That’s it, Princess,” I praise her, slowing down my pace as her body begins to relax.
I remove my hand from under her dress and wrap both of my arms around her, resting my head against hers. We make eye contact in the mirror, both of our faces flushed from a mix of the heat and what just happened, and start laughing.
“So, that was...” Annie starts before laughing again, bringing a hand to cover her mouth.
“How is everything fitting out there? Can I get you a different size in anything? Need help zipping anything up?”
Annie jumps at the sound of the store worker outside the dressing room door.
“No—no, thank you.”
“I’m helping her, don’t worry,” I say, winking at Annie in the mirror.
“Great!” the worker says before we hear her steps dissipate.
“I hate you,” Annie says, but her face says the opposite.
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
“Didn’t last too long.”
“Nope, sure didn’t.” I kiss the top of her head. “Let’s buy this and get out of here.”
Annie nods and takes off the dress after I help her unzip.
“Zayn.”
“Hm?”
“This is too much. This dress equals my three month salary.” Annie holds up the tag for me to see like I care what it costs.
I might not have been in a lot of big-name films, but I have plenty of money to spare. More than I know what to do with.
“I already bought the dress, so I can’t exactly return it.” I shrug.
“What do you mean you already bought this dress? I tried on like ten dresses. What happened if I chose a different one?”
“You wouldn’t have. I know you, remember?”
Annie smiles and doesn’t say anything, just removes the dress and changes back into her original outfit.
Annie could have chosen another dress. I bought them all. They are all her. All colors I’ve seen her wear, all cuts of things I’ve seen her save to her Pinterest board when we lounge on the couch at night together, all styles that scream “Annie” to me.
She’d look beautiful in anything. All I care about is wearing her on my arm.