She’s opened a door. We both have. Somehow, we’ve connected back together at a time when both of us are free to pursue whatever this is and wherever it’s headed. There are no deep relationship wounds, no partners waiting in the wings, no jobs demanding more of us than a lover might reasonably be expected to tolerate.

And she wants tonight to stay vanilla.

I thought hard about what that means before I invited her into my space. The difference between vanilla and kink isn’t in the hardware. It’s in my willingness to push my partner out of her comfort zone. So for tonight, we’ll stay in Chloe’s. If I happen to use my Dom radar to explore some of the edges of where that is, that seems like an acceptable use of the skills I learned in my various ports.

A history she hasn’t either rejected or swarmed to, and both please me.

I stand up and make my way around the table, never letting go of her fingers. It’s time to have fewer inanimate objects between us. She lets me pull her up easily, and I can see the heat flare in her eyes. She knows where I’d like to take this.

I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the feel of warm skin and curves. My bed might be less than ten feet away through the balcony door, but I don’t need to get there quickly. And I don’t plan to head there without consent. There are some pieces of who I am that I’m just not willing to set aside. “I’d like to take you inside now, Chloe. I want to undress you and lie you down on my bed and take my sweet time getting to know your body again.”

Her skin pebbles at my words. She arches into me, her hands sliding up around my neck. Her eyes are clear and bold as she runs her fingers through my hair. “As long as I get some time to do the same, I’m really good with that.”

I tell my inner Dom to stand down. He’s not in charge tonight. “Sure.” I pull open the balcony slider door. “In fact, you can go first if you want.” I might have better self-control that way. Or not.

She turns us so that I’m facing backwards, puts her hands on my chest, and glides us neatly into the bedroom. The flush rising up her cheeks is beautiful, and almost manages to make me forget that I’m coming perilously close to handing her the reins. She stops when my legs run into the bed, higher than most for reasons she likely isn’t thinking about too hard.

I am. I’d like nothing better right now than to bend her over the edge, hands held tight behind her back, and see just how she responds to me holding her still and fingering her until she comes.

She leans in, slides her hands up to my shoulders, and grins. “Race you to naked.”

I stare as she suddenly turns into the sixteen-year-old girl I remember, pulling her dress up over her head and giggling madly as she reenacts a moment that is forever seared into my brain. And then I stare some more, because under the dress are some of the sexiest scraps of red underwear I’ve ever seen, adorning a body that isn’t remotely sixteen anymore.

She catches me looking and pauses in the act of dropping her dress in a pile on my floor. “You’re not naked, Eli.” Her voice is husky, and taut with need.

Someone doesn’t want to do this slowly.

Normally that would be my cue to make sure she doesn’t get to come for at least the next hour, but that’s not the Eli I’m supposed to be tonight. I reach out and brush my fingers along the strap of her bra, down to the lace covering plush curves. “I’m kind of distracted at the moment.”

Her fingers cover mine. Not stopping them, just seeking connection. Giving me a chance to make the next move.

I step into her, pulling her tight against me, cupping one luscious breast in my palm. “My hands are busy. I don’t suppose I could convince you to unbutton my shirt?”

She slides one hand up to the top button. “Maybe.”

I roll her nipple between my thumb and finger and notice her sharp intake of breath. “I can be more convincing.”

She chuckles and undoes one button. “Both breasts would probably do it.”

I tweak the nipple I’m holding a little harder. “I’m busy with this one.”

She tugs me down for a kiss. “Bossy man.”

She has no idea. I let go of her waist and slide my other hand up, cupping two lace-clad breasts. I knead them, using my thumbs to friction the lace over her nipples.

She tilts her head back and moans softly, skin pebbling with need.

I lean in to kiss the smooth, soft skin around her collarbone, up the side of her neck. She’s delicious, and an enchanting mix of curves I remember and those I definitely don’t.

She rests her forehead on my shoulder and undoes buttons all the way down to my navel.

I wait, which seems every kind of wrong.

Her fingers slide onto the warm skin of my chest, parting the shirt. She feels her way over muscles that Ryan insisted we all grow on his chin-up bar at the back of the tour bus. I’ve kept them, even though I don’t ride the bus anymore. A strange kind of homage to a part of my life I still miss fiercely. I breathe in as she traces her fingers through the dusting of hair on my chest. I didn’t have that at sixteen.

I have two nipples in my hands, taut with need and nicely warmed up. It’s a true sadness to let them go. I pull away slowly, using the lace to make sure her skin doesn’t forget me.

Chloe gasps and whimpers, all at the same time.

I manage to hide my grin. I know a few tricks sixteen-year-old Eli never dreamed of.