Kiss in the Dark (20 page)

The warmth of his lips pressed her own, and she melted.

“I-I don’t really know,” Boston breathed as he paused in kissing her. She couldn’t think clearly—couldn’t focus on one thought other than she wished he would kiss her again. In the darkness of the pantry, she felt his thumb travel slowly over her lower lip.

“I won the game, you know,” he said.

“I know,” she breathed.

“Is it okay that I won?” he asked. Boston smiled, enchanted. She knew what he meant—he was asking permission to kiss her. Her heart swelled at his modernized attempt at chivalry.

“Yeah,” she managed.

As Vance gathered her into his arms more snuggly, as he kissed her again a little less tentatively, Boston couldn’t keep her hands from traveling over his shoulders—couldn’t keep her arms from going around his neck.

Maybe it was the sappy Air Supply song echoing repeatedly through the other room—maybe it was the darkness enabling Boston to abandon her inhibitions—maybe it was the warm flavor of Juicy Fruit flooding her mouth. Whatever the reason, Boston’s stomach leapt; her heart swelled to near bursting as she found herself fully and willingly accepting Vance’s deepening kiss. Not only was she accepting it, she was returning it.

She thought for a moment that his mouth seemed made to fit to hers—wondered how he knew just how to kiss her so perfectly as to send her entire body to racing with swarms of butterflies and rippling goose bumps. She’d kissed other boys—other men—but kissing Vance was an entirely different experience, just as it had been the first time. As his moist, Juicy Fruit–flavored mouth melded with her own, she was conscious that kissing him would, no doubt, mess with her head again, but she didn’t care. The experience was utterly and entirely euphoric!

Vance broke the seal of their mouths for a moment, changing the direction of the incline of his head and kissing her again. She felt his hand weave through her hair at the back of her head—gasped a little as he palmed her head, deepening the firm demands of his mouth.

Passion! Passion like Boston had never experienced was blazing voraciously inside Dempsey’s pantry—unbridled passion! She couldn’t seem to hold him close enough—couldn’t seem to quench her thirst for his kiss. Vance’s arms nearly crushed her as he held her to him, as his mouth endeavored to quench her thirst—or his.

“Boston,” he breathed once, breaking the fastening of their mouths. She felt his embrace slacken, felt their bodies separate, but she could not give him up—not yet. When the timer sounded—when the light in the pantry was turned back on—his attention, his kiss would vanish. Reality would then return, and Vance Nathaniel would swagger away to a life that included Boston only in the most casual, nonintimate sense.

An odd, uncontrollable desperation gripped her. She would not lose a moment of his attention—of his kiss.

Allowing her hands to caress his face a moment, she whispered, “There’s still time.”

Raising herself on the tips of her toes, she boldly pressed her mouth to his once more, driving her own demanding kiss. At once his arms banded around her, pulling her body flush with his own as command of the affectionate exchanged fell to Vance once more.

“This is just all in fun,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“I know,” Boston whispered, breathless in his arms. One hand rested at his broad chest as it rose and fell with labored breathing.

“It was just a game,” he said, kissing her again.

“I know,” Boston breathed, returning his kiss.

“It’s just that stupid song…and the way you were messing with me,” he grumbled. Still, the moist heat of his mouth demanded she continue to kiss him—and she did.

“I-I know,” she managed between kisses.

Boston knew she could never have kissed Vance Nathaniel with the light on. Never! If he hadn’t pulled the chain to leave them in complete darkness, she never would’ve been able to make good on having lost the game. Vance Nathaniel! Danielle’s brother, for Pete’s sake. What was she doing? She was experiencing pure, rampant bliss—that’s what she was doing!

She thought for a moment of all the women who surely would give anything to find themselves making out with Vance Nathaniel. How had she gotten so lucky? Dempsey could’ve pulled any number out of the number bowl—any girl’s number at the party—but he hadn’t. He’d pulled the number seven, and Boston was never so happy at random circumstance.

The timer buzzed, startling Boston, heaping mountains of disappointment over her. Vance immediately released her, broke the seal of their mouths, and gently pushed her away from his body.

He winked at her. Pushing the pantry door open, he stepped out of the pantry to the gasps and cheers of the company. Dempsey put two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly as everyone else applauded.

“Boom, baby! That’s right!” Vance chuckled, raising his arms and flexing triumphantly. “You boys go on. You keep wishing you were as good at that game as me!”

Everyone clapped and shouted and laughed with amusement—though Boston didn’t miss the fact that a couple of the girls only glared at her.

“I have to tell you all…I have to. Boston’s a good sport, kids,” he said. “That’s why she told me I could come out here and let you all think that she let me have my way with her.”

Boston smiled—modern chivalry again. He was going to let everyone think they’d only pretended passion had heated up Dempsey’s pantry.

“You mean…you mean you didn’t make out?” someone asked.

“Nope,” Vance said, winking at her.

“Is that true, Boston?” Dempsey asked. “’Cause to me that sure looks like whisker burn around your mouth…and possibly the residue of pink lip gloss there on Vance’s.”

Vance gave the truth away when he guiltily reached up, running the back of his hand across his lips, and then looked at it as if expecting to find lip gloss residue there.

He laughed and put a strong arm around her neck, pulling her against him. His skin was warm and soft—clean and fresh smelling—and as Boston’s arms went around him to return his friendly embrace, she allowed her face to linger against the smooth warmth of his skin at his shoulder.

The sappy, old Air Supply song had begun again (Dempsey was famous for putting a song on repeat), and Boston smiled as Vance began to sway. He slipped an arm around her waist and began to dance with her.

“Dempsey,” Max shouted. “Dog! Change that stupid song before Vance loses all sense of reason and starts crying or something!”

Everyone laughed, and Vance chuckled and released Boston. He pulled his shirt on, ran his fingers through his hair to straighten it, pushed up his sleeves, and sat down in a nearby chair.

“So?” he asked. “What next?”

Danielle smiled as she studied her brother. Vance was happy—truly happy! In that moment, there was something in her brother’s countenance she hadn’t seen in a very, very long time—joy.

Inhaling a deep breath of courage, she walked to Boston. She took her arm and led her toward the snack table. No one else was snacking now. It would allow them some privacy.

Boston worried. Danielle was smiling, but there was concern in her eyes. Was she angry with Boston for losing the game, for kissing Vance? Or had spending so much time with Stephanie Crittendon so thoroughly trained Boston to expect the worst that she was simply paranoid?

“I want to ask you a favor, Boston,” Danielle began as she pulled a can of pop from the big ice-filled bowl in the center of the snack table.

Yet, in the next instant, she gasped as Danielle did not reprimand her or ask her to stay away from Vance. Instead, Danielle simply said, “I want you to seduce my brother.”

Chapter
Ten

“What?” Boston exclaimed.

Danielle glanced over her shoulder and whispered, “Shh!”

Boston lowered her voice and said, “I must’ve misunderstood you, Danielle. I thought you said you want me to—”

“Seduce my brother…yeah. That
is
what I said.” Boston’s mouth still hung agape with astonishment as Danielle shrugged and began to explain. “Maybe those weren’t exactly the right words. I don’t want you to, like, literally seduce him into…well…you know.”

Danielle smiled. “No…I don’t think you’re the brother whisperer. But I do think you like my brother…and I know that he likes you.” She looked to Boston, her eyes pleading.

Instantly, Boston’s heart leapt with hope, excitement, and the possibility that Danielle might be right. Still, it was dangerous to hope for the heart of a guy like Vance; it was even more dangerous to try and win it!

“Now, Danielle,” Boston began, “don’t mess with me like this. Just because I’m attracted to Vance—and I’ll admit that I am because it would be stupid of me to try and lie to you about it—just because I like him doesn’t mean that he likes me back! It doesn’t mean something will come of it, and it doesn’t mean I should…or even could…find the courage to—”

“He’s got baggage, Bost,” Danielle interrupted. “Big baggage.” Danielle shrugged again. “I mean, everybody does. We all have baggage.” She looked to Boston, her eyes pleading for Boston to understand something she knew Boston couldn’t possibly understand. “But Vance…Vance is carrying a lot of luggage. I mean…they’d charge him extra at the airport for it.”

“Okay,” Boston accepted. “And I’m guessing it’s baggage you shouldn’t reveal to me…right?” Boston’s insides had been trembling. It’s why she thought it was strange that a sudden calmness should begin to expand within her—an odd, encouraging sort of calm.

“That’s right,” Danielle affirmed. “I won’t hurt him by letting everybody search through his luggage without his permission…even you. I know you understand, Boston. No one knows you understand like I do.”

Boston nodded. Danielle was referring to her own secret pain—the pain Boston’s friendship had helped her to work through the summer they worked at the North Pole together. Though her imagination was running wild, Boston wouldn’t press Danielle. She wondered if perhaps Vance had once been an addict of some sort. It might explain his near obsession with running and exercise. She wondered if he had a past where a woman was concerned—maybe a psycho girlfriend, which might explain why he had such vast experience with poisonous friends and had recognized Steph as one. Still, she wouldn’t press Danielle. If Danielle held her brother’s confidence, then she should well guard it.

“He likes you, Boston. You do something to him…bring something to him that I haven’t seen in him in a long, long time. His heart is lightened when you’re around,” Danielle continued, “and I’ll tell you something else. Vance would never, never, never make out with a girl he didn’t absolutely want to…in the light or the dark. You’re seeping into his soul, and I want you to save him.” Danielle giggled. “I guess I do think you’re the brother whisperer.”

Boston drew a deep breath. “Danielle…have you ever looked at your brother from another woman’s perspective?” she asked. “Do you know how gorgeous he is? How the fact that he is that gorgeous lends itself to intimidation and fear?”

“Fear?” Danielle asked, puzzled.

“Fear,” Boston said. She swallowed the lump of nerves in her throat and said, “Fear…because Vance is the kind of guy that, once he’s in your head and your heart, there’s no tearing him out of them. He’s the kind of guy who can wreck your life, Danielle…literally!”

“I know,” Danielle admitted. “But I’m your best friend. I wouldn’t ask you to let go of your fear and risk your heart…if I wasn’t certain it was the right thing.” Danielle studied Boston for a moment. She smiled and said, “He’s already messed you up…hasn’t he?”

Boston guiltily glanced away. It was true! Vance Nathaniel had started messing her up the moment she’d first seen him. She’d gotten more and more messed up with every passing minute she spent in his company. However, he’d completely wrecked her when he’d doused the lights and kissed her in the dark a week ago—had begun to possess her entirely at Dempsey’s party and in the pantry.