VAIN - Part Three (The VAIN Series Book 3)

by Deborah Bladon

  "How did you know I'd be here?"

  I feel his lips feather over my cheek before they brush across mine. "I called Axel Boston and someone there told me you were in Manhattan." He stops to kiss me lightly again. "She told me you were working at the restaurant here."

  "I tried to call you." My hands move from his waist to his hands, pushing them closer into my face. I've been starved for his touch for months. I finally feel as though I can breathe again. "I called you a few weeks ago. You didn’t call me back."

  "I didn't know what to say." His eyes glisten slightly and I know that he's feeling everything I am. "I just wanted to see you. I wanted to hold you and look at you."

  "So you came to New York?" I nod my head towards the floor. "You came here to see me?"

  "Yes." His eyes dart from my eyes to my mouth and back again. "I came here to see you."

  I have a million questions but I can't form a single one. I can only stare at him.

  "You look so beautiful." His eyes skim over my dress. "You were out tonight, weren't you?"

  I nod. I've never lied to Noah. Starting now seems foolish. "I was on a date. I was at the restaurant when you called."

  "Is he important to you?" There's no anger or jealousy woven into the question at all. It's direct.

  I shake my head slightly from side-to-side. "I just met him. We hadn't even ordered yet."

  "Tonight was your first date?" This time there's no hiding the emotion in the question. He's happy. I can sense it between the words.

  "My first date since I got here," I offer.

  "Then I got here just in time." His hands tangle in my hair, pulling my mouth into his for a lush, deep kiss.

  My eyes flutter closed as I lose myself in the touch in the man that I'm in love with. There's absolutely no question of that within any part of me now. I love Noah Foster. I belong with Noah Foster. Now I just need to make that my reality.

  ***

  "I got a new tattoo." He's sitting on the edge of the coffee table, my bare feet resting between his thighs, which are still hidden beneath the fabric of his pants. "I got it right after you left."

  I want to correct him. I want to tell him that I didn't leave. At least, I didn't leave willingly. In his effort to force me into the world that he thought would make me happy, he abandoned me in many ways. I'm not over that. I can't be. I have so much I need to say to him. "Where?" I ask the obvious question for now.

  "Here." His hand darts to his chest. It rests directly over his heart.

  "I can't see." I lean forward, all the while painfully aware that my breasts are about to dive out of the top of Kayla's dress. It was just a touch too small but that hadn't stopped me from squeezing myself into it earlier in an effort to impress Alec. I had no idea that hours later, I'd be sitting with Noah, staring at his beautiful chest.

  "Right here." His finger traces a small space in the middle of a larger tattoo. "It's the numbers six and seventeen."

  "Is that a combination to something?" I laugh expecting him to follow suit. I tone it down the moment I realize his expression is stoic and serious.

  "It's the day we met." His voice is low and tender.

  It's a gesture that I wasn't expecting. "When did you get this?" I rest my hand over it, closing my eyes to bask in the firmness of his body. He's all muscle. He radiates power and control.

  "The night you left." His hand covers mine now. "I went and had it done right away to remind myself of you."

  "I didn't leave, Noah." I can't stomach hearing him say those words to me. I've been living in pained agony for months because he chose to turn his back on my world and me, in favor of the world within the walls of his apartment.

  "I know, Alexa." He moves forward, pulling my legs so I skim my ass across the couch. "I pushed you away. I've had to live with that every moment of every single day. I can't take it anymore."

  Chapter 9

  "Your body is so fucking perfect, Alexa." He glides his tongue over my thigh. "I've ached inside thinking about this body."

  I lean my head back into the pillow on the king size bed as he slides his mouth over my folds. I moan loudly, relishing in the feeling, wanting it to last forever. "Noah, please, lick it like that."

  "You want to come like this, don't you?" He circles my clit with painfully slow strokes of his tongue. "Your pussy is so good."

  "Make me come," I'm almost begging. "I want this."

  He pushes my thighs farther apart as he moves his head quickly back and forth, mirroring the efforts of his tongue. He brings me to the edge smoothly. He knows exactly how to lick, touch and fuck my body until I'm screaming his name over and over again.

  "I'm so close," I scream as I tangle my hands in his hair. "Yes, Noah."

  "Come for me," he breathes into my wetness, his breath skirting hot over the sensitive tissues. "Come now."

  The growl deep within his voice pushes me into an intense orgasm. My legs try to move out of sheer reflex from the heat pouring through my skin. He holds tight to them, his lips centered on my core, trying to coax another orgasm from me.

  "No, Noah," I beg. "It's too much."

  "Never," he purrs as he sucks my swollen bud between his lips and I pull hard on his hair, screaming out as I fall into the depth of pleasure yet again.

  "I can't," I whimper as I hear him tear the foil packet of the condom package. "I can't."

  "I need to fuck you." He hoists my left leg up, adjusting my body to take his full length. He slides in with urgency, his full, thick cock filling me instantly. He leans forward, his lips taking mine into a deep, soul touching kiss. His body is still, the only movement his tongue as it parts my lips.

  I moan into his mouth. I want him to fuck me. I want to watch his gorgeous face as he chases his own orgasm within my body. "Fuck me, Noah," I whisper softly against his lips. "Just fuck me."

  He pulls back. His breath touches my cheek. I feel a drop before I see it. There are tears silently falling from his eyes. "I love you, Alexa. I love you."

  I don't speak. I can't. I can only feel as he pushes back on his knees, raises himself up on his hands, and fucks me hard and slow until he lets out a guttural groan.

  ***

  "That's the Noah I remember," I say with a small smile as he comes walking back into the bedroom completely naked with two bottles of chilled water.

  "You've missed my cock." He points down to his groin. He's still semi-erect. "I don't blame you."

  I laugh at the words. "I've missed you."

  "I keep it covered more now." He loosens the cap on one bottle before handing it to me. "You were right. I needed to put on some pants."

  "In public?" I cock a brow as I take a lazy, large swallow of the water. "Or in private?"

  "I'm almost always alone." He brings the bottle in his hand to his mouth. "I like looking at my dick, so I don't wear pants when it's just me."

  I almost spit water all over the bed. "It's a nice dick." I shrug one shoulder. "I like it."

  "You love it," he teases. We both ignore the obvious emotional elephant in the room. Since Noah had tenderly told me he loved me, I'd remained mum on the subject. I can't say those words to him tonight. I need to understand what happened all those months ago in his apartment. I also need to understand what's happened in his life since then, including what's going on with Camilla and the baby.

  "When did you get here?" It's a good starting point.

  "A week ago." He doesn't offer more and there's no indecision in the words. He's been in Manhattan an entire week and hasn't reached out.

  "You got here last week?" I repeat it back. It's not that I expect it will have a different meaning coming from my lips. I just want clear understanding of what his motivations are and why it took him so long to get in touch. "Did you come because of your work?"

  He raises a brow before taking another large sip from the bottle. "I came here for you, Alexa."

  "Why did you wait so long to get in touch?"

  "I saw you the first day I w
as here." He places the bottle on the night stand before reaching for my hand.

  I shift my body slightly, pulling the sheet around my frame. I don't want to feel completely exposed when we talk about this. I need a barrier between us, and knowing Noah, he isn't about to cover up anything that is already on full display. "Why didn't you say something?"

  His hand bolts to his chest to cover the new tattoo. "I wanted to see how you were. I wanted to see if you were…"

  "If I was happy?" I interrupt. We are actually going to dive right back into the one subject that broke us up. Maybe this reunion was going to be short lived, after all.

  "If you were happy," he parrots back. "You are happy."

  "That depends on how you define happy, I suppose. " My mouth tightens. "I've missed you like crazy, Noah. I've missed you so much."

  "We need to talk about things." He's on his feet now. "I want to know about your life here. I want to know what you're doing. How is teaching?"

  I nod. "We need to talk about all of that."

  He stands in silence, his hands resting on his strong hips. "Let's start with Brighton."

  I curse inwardly. We are actually going to jump back onto the merry-go-round that is Brighton Beck's role in my life? "Why?"

  "He's here." Noah taps his index finger against his hip bone. "Brighton is in New York."

  Chapter 10

  "I haven't seen him." I pull my gaze back down to the sheets. "I haven't spoken to him in months."

  "He said you called him about what happened that day in my apartment."

  I nod my head. "I did. I wanted to find out why he showed you the pictures, Noah."

  He fidgets from one foot to the other. "I hate that you loved him."

  I smile at the confession. I pull my gaze up to meet his. "I hate that I loved him too," I say the words clearly and slowly so there's no room for misinterpretation between them.

  "I think about it sometimes." His voice cracks slightly. "I think about you being in his arms. How he must have felt when he was inside you."

  I exhale sharply. "I don't even remember it." I'm not lying. Intimacy with Beck was lovely at the time. I know I enjoyed it. I know that it filled an empty need within me that was swallowing me whole back then. I was so lost in Paris. I felt so alone and Brighton was there. He felt like home. I needed that.

  "You don't?" It's a misplaced question on his lips. Noah has never outwardly shown any real jealousy. He may have gotten irritated with Brighton when he realized we were once lovers, but he's always been confident in our connection. I've felt that right from the start.

  "When I was in Paris," I begin before I pat the bed willing him to sit down next to me. He does. "When I was in Paris, I felt very lost."

  "You went there alone, didn't you?" He pulls the sheet over to reveal my leg. "Were you running away from something here?"

  "Someone you mean?" I know Noah well enough to realize that he's asking me if I left home because of a man.

  He nods slowly as his finger traces a path along my calf. "Were you involved with someone before Paris?"

  "No." I shake my head from side-to-side. "I didn't date anyone for long." I steel my breathing. I want to tell him about the girl I used to be. I want him to understand who I was then and who I am now. "I was mostly interested in men for sex."

  He cocks a brow as the corner of his mouth twitches. "You fucked around?"

  "I did." Why try and hide the fact that I used to be that girl? I was the one who would hook up with a man just because I needed to feel that rush of pleasure. "I was safe and sane about it." I close my eyes to ward off the many faces of the men I've randomly fucked over the years. "I didn't want anything serious."

  "Do you think you ran to Paris to escape that?" It's a serious question that requires an honest answer.

  "Sadie fell in love with her husband around that time." I cringe inwardly thinking about how I felt knowing my best friend had fallen into the lap of the man of her dreams, while I was jumping from bed-to-bed searching for anything that could satiate my needs that day. "I saw how happy she was. I wanted that too."

  "You moved all the way to Paris to get that?" His fingers trace a path around each of my toes.

  "I moved to Paris so I could be with myself." I've never confessed this to anyone, not even Sadie. "I didn't like who I was. I was always searching for the next party or club to go to. I couldn’t be alone with myself for more than a few hours."

  "Why?" I see the genuine concern in his eyes.

  "I wanted to be a girl that men fell in love with too." It's a direct confession that leaves me wide open and vulnerable. "I wanted a man to stay with me beyond one night."

  "Alexa," he whispers my name as he crawls up the bed. "How could any man not want to be with you forever?"

  I sigh heavily. "I would give my number to men after we'd hooked up." I pull my gaze from his, embarrassed by the words about to leave my lips. "They wouldn’t call."

  "What?" He jumps back onto his knees so he's facing me directly. "What the fuck was wrong with them?"

  I laugh at the animated tone in his voice. "They knew I'd put out. They got what they wanted." Honesty is the best policy, right? It had taken me weeks after leaving Boston for Paris before I realized any of this. The time I'd spent alone there, pre-Beck was a period of gentle awakening for me. I'd cried for hours thinking about where my life was. I'd planned for days on where I wanted to be in a year, in five years and in ten years.

  "How did Brighton enter the picture?" I knew the question was coming. It was settled, simmering on the back burner, waiting for the moment when it would need Noah's full attention again.

  I look into his eyes. I need him to fully understand the bare honesty that is woven into my words. "He saved me when I was lost." The words carry a double meaning.

  "You told me months ago that you shared a mutual friend?"

  "It's the man who owns the restaurants." I push my leg closer to Noah, longing for his continued soft touch. "He's Sadie's husband."

  Noah massages the sole of my foot. His strong hands deftly push into the skin, pulling out the stress and pain that has settled there after all the long nights I've spent on my feet at the restaurant lately. "They connected you with Brighton?"

  "I was lost one day and they had given me his number." I push back the memory of that day and the first glimpse I had of Brighton's face. "He helped me find my way out of the maze that is the streets of Paris." I smile softly. "We went for a coffee and talked for hours."

  "You fell fast for him?"

  "Very," I say, not looking at him. "We bonded quickly."

  "You didn't know about his girlfriend?" A brief glimpse of something skirts across his gaze. "About Liz?"

  "Sadie told me he had gone there to help her after an accident." I continue," I asked him about her that first day. It was while we were drinking our coffee. He told me they weren't together anymore. He said that he was there working and helping her if she needed him."

  He studies my profile. I can feel his eyes boring into me. "You believed him?"

  "Why wouldn't I?" I spit back, trying not to sound as defensive as I feel. I've questioned myself endlessly about my decision to put that much faith in Brighton.

  He bites his lip. His hands stall briefly before he exhales audibly. "He wanted you the moment he saw you. He told me. He would have said anything to be with you."

  I berate myself silently each day for getting involved with Brighton. "I'll never get rid of the guilt," I say softly. "I'll never shake off that feeling that I fucked up the life of his girlfriend."

  "You didn't." He leans down to circle my legs with his arms, resting his head against my thighs. "He did that. You just loved him."

  Chapter 11

  "He's here? He's in New York?" Kayla bounces across the kitchen floor towards me. I almost feel the need to duck under the table for cover.

  "Yes," I answer trying not to sound as annoyed as I do. "Beck is here."

  "Are you going to see him?
"

  "No," I spit back a little too harshly. "I don't want to. I doubt that he wants to see me."

  "I think you should see him." She pours a healthy dose of milk into her coffee. "I think you should give him a piece of your mind for the way he fucked up everything with Noah."

  I roll my eyes, before reaching to pop two pieces of grain bread into the toaster. "You haven't listened to anything I've told you." I'm frustrated. She has to know that. We've sat here for the past twenty minutes while I rambled on incessantly about how Noah was in New York. The quiet mention of Brighton was only to move the story along. I didn't know she'd focus on it, and it, alone.

  "I have so." She stomps her foot like a contemptuous two-year old child. "You said that Noah came to New York to see you and that Brighton is here too."

  "I won't see Beck," I'm saying it as much for my own benefit, as hers. "I can't open that door again. I have nothing left to say to him."

  She sips at her coffee. "He hasn't tried to contact you, Lex. Maybe he's not here to see you."

  "You're right." I feel an instant weight drift off my shoulders. If Brighton wanted to see me, he would have found me by now.

  "What about Noah?" She points to the toaster. "What happened with you two?"

  I reach for the toasted bread, handing one slice to her. "Do you want jam or anything?"

  "Nothing," she says as she munches on the very dry corner. "Tell me about Noah."

  "He mostly wanted to talk." I don't look her in the eye. I focus instead on pushing my toast to the corner of my plate. "He wanted to talk about Brighton." I conveniently leave out the part where Noah said he loves me.

  ""What's with that?" She takes another sip from the mug. "He talks about Brighton more than you do."

  I've had the same thought but my mind has tried to bury it in its dark recesses, just as I did with the sight of Camilla wrapped in a bed sheet. "I wanted to talk about other things."

  "Why didn't you?"

  It's a valid question. After Noah and I had played twenty question of Brighton Beck, he'd gone down to the street with me to hail me a cab home. I had wanted to stay to wrap myself around him for the night but he said it was late and he wanted time to rest. It was a brush off that still stung now, eight hours later. "He was tired." It sounds even lamer coming out of my mouth than it did when it was just drifting around in my mind.