I walk over to the bin of costumes and take off my boas and bangles. When I turn around, Vaughn is watching me. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a hockey fan,” he says with that sexy, easygoing attitude of his.
“I’m not, really. It was a gift from my aunt.” I stay where I am. Per usual with Vaughn, I’m not sure what happens next. I don’t know how to do this anymore.
But I do know I owe him an explanation for my behavior.
We stare at each other. It’s like an addiction the way our eyes can’t stay off each other. I’m dying for him to make the first move. He does.
“Go out with me tonight,” he says, taking steps closer.
The invitation catches me completely off guard in the best possible way. “Out?” This could mean a lot of things, and I need specifics. I’m so glad he didn’t listen when I told him to leave me alone.
“I tried to skip a few important steps last night and almost shortchanged the both of us. I want to take you out on a date. I want to hold your hand. I want to talk and listen. I want to kiss you good night. I’ve got a list of wants, actually, but we’ll start with that.” He stops inches in front of me.
I swallow the gigantic lump in the back of my throat. Wow. Just wow. His admission makes my knees weak and my heart take notice.
“Do not ask me why, Kendall. Don’t second-guess this or say there’s no point. You and me? We’re something. I aim to find out what we are. Unless you tell me no.”
I shake my head, then nod my head, shit, I don’t know what to do with my head. But the answer is yes. Yes, I want to find out, too. I want to trust him. With everything. My secrets. My uncertainties. My regrets. My virginity suddenly seems like the least complicated piece of it. “What time should I be ready?”
The grin he flashes steals any lingering doubts I have about my intentions toward Vaughn Shaughnessy.
Mostly.
I spend the rest of the day getting ready, starting with a long soak in the bath followed by a shower to shave, exfoliate, and wash my hair. After, I rub lotion all over my body and picture it’s Vaughn’s hands on me instead.
I wait for my renegade thoughts to bring guilt, but they don’t, so I picture him kneeling in front of me with his tongue and fingers in my most intimate places, and I’m turned on. Restless and needy. I sit on the edge of the bathtub and spread my legs. I haven’t touched myself in a long time. I’ve never watched, that’s for sure, but the mirror across from me gives me a perfect view. And I’m suddenly curious. I’m seeing myself through Vaughn’s eyes. I reach over and grab the vibrator Brit included in my summer house-sitting survival kit. With a push from my finger the device turns on, and I put it over my clit. The contact fires up all my nerve endings, lifts me to the brink of release within seconds, and I realize I’ve been hovering there since Vaughn dropped to his knees and put his mouth on me. I’m beyond overdue for an orgasm and can have one like this, but I want more. I need… I take my free hand and slowly slide a finger inside, imagining it’s him. It’s not the same. Not enough. I add a second finger and concentrate on the memory of him doing this—the way he circled, and then pushed deeper. I linger, repeating those motions, stroking and playing while I fantasize about him doing the honors. Experimenting in ways I wouldn’t normally, but I think he might. I visualize him moving inside me, searching. Searching for…oh God, that spot right there, and then, holy shitnuts, I come so hard I sink to the floor.
Through the very last spasm, I picture Vaughn.
If my daydreams are this powerful, I can only imagine what the reality might be like. My entire body heats at the thought.
I stand and walk on shaky legs into my room. Clothes are strewn all over the bed, indecision still weighing on me. Last week I did some shopping, but I can’t decide which of those purchases to wear tonight. Because it’s on top, I wiggle into a short purple sundress, and then eye my reflection in the full-length mirror. It’s summery and sexy in an understated way. Would the little black halter dress be better? I wish one of my sisters were around to offer an opinion.
As if I have my very own fairy godmother on speed dial, I hear a door slam, followed by footsteps on the stairs. I walk out to the landing to find Amber coming up, lost in thought. Looks like unwelcome thoughts, judging by the way she’s gnawing her lip and frowning into space. I apply the brakes and prepare to put my body in reverse. Now is not the time to hit her up with a fashion emergency.
But I’m not quick enough. She spies me. “Oh, hey.” She slips the small bag in her hand into the outside pocket of her purse. “Didn’t see you there.” Her steps speed up as she approaches the landing, but then she pauses and looks me over. “Cute dress. That color’s great on you.”
The unsolicited compliment bolsters my courage. “You think?” I pluck at the skirt. “I’m trying to decide between this and a black dress.”
“What’s the occasion?” She heads toward my room.
“I’m going out with Vaughn.” I double step to catch up with her, then almost plow into her when she abruptly stops.
She turns. “As in, a date?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa.” Her eyes go wide. “Really? Dixie insisted you’d taken some kind of vow of celibacy.”
My sisters know I got into an auto accident with my boyfriend during my senior year, but no details. They don’t know the whole situation.
“No vow,” I say. “Vaughn asked me out and I said yes. As to where it leads…we’ll see.”
“Sure you want to stress the dress?” She walks over to my bed. “Underwear might be the thing to put the effort into.”
“I’m not wearing any,” I joke. But as long as she’s here, I pick up the black dress and hold it in front of me. “Which one says, ‘I dare you to find out’?”
Amber tilts her head and taps her finger against her upper lip. “The black one is all-out sexy, and makes your blond hair pop, but honestly?”