As I pass the exit that leads to our house, she points to the sign as I zoom by it. “Wait a minute, where are we going?”
Looking over at her, I say, “It’s a surprise. You’ll see, but we’re not sleeping at home tonight.”
“So, where are we sleeping on Valentine’s Day? Please don’t tell me we’re sleeping on an air mattress.
Laughing as I turn the music up, I answer, “In a bed.”
She pouts her lips and reaches her long slender arm to turn the volume back down. “In a bed—where?
I love when she pouts her lips like that. She looks so hot.
Using the word she always uses on me, I say, “Yesss . . .”
“Where are we going?” she huffs out.
I have to laugh because I think she might be having a fit in the seat of my car. “You’re not going to stomp your feet and cross your arms, are you? Because if you are, I’m going to have to pull over to watch this.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, and I try to grab it, but she moves away to quickly.
I turn the music back up and sing along, waiting for her next question, but she’s good at playing any game I throw her way. She doesn’t say anything as she shifts in her seat and hikes her dress up just a little higher. I give her a quick glance and look back at the road. I can play too. She stretches and her top slips down slightly. Damn she’s good. I keep singing and humming, thumping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel, trying to ignore her provocative moves.
Then, she breaks and starts to speak.
I grin over at her.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks again.
“Nope.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I have a secret I want to share. And I was thinking a trade was in order. You know one for one,” she says, twisting a little, leaning her elbow on the console, and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.
“Not interested.”
“Oh I think you might be, especially since it has something to do with what I’m
wearing . . .Oh, I mean, not wearing.”
I whip my head around and glance her way. “You’re lying.”
Sitting up straight, she runs her fingers from the top of her boots to beneath her skirt where I can’t see them anymore. “Tell me where we’re going and find out for yourself.”
Instantly reaching my hand over to her lap, I blurt out, “The Beverly Wilshire.” I drive faster so I can just get there already.
Okay, so she’s good.
“Oh my God. I’ve heard it’s amazing there! How’d you manage to get a reservation so quickly and for Valentine’s Day? I thought they book out almost a year in advance.”
I have to laugh because she thinks she knows me so well already, and actually she does.
Tapping my fingers on her leg, I answer, “I’ll never tell.”
“Fine, be that way.”
“Providing details wasn’t part of the trade. But a deal’s a deal.”
My fingers start to creep up her thigh. I can feel her soft skin and get hard instantly. Actually, I feel like I’ve had a raging hard-on since she put those boots on. I don’t give a shit about hearts and flowers anymore. I want her. I need to taste her. I want to be inside her. So I drive even faster.
I run my fingers all the way up the inside of her legs. Fuck, she wasn’t lying. She’s not wearing panties. I start to move my fingers and I can feel how wet she is. She’s just so f**king hot. Then suddenly she presses her hand on top of mine and pushes it away.
Grinning mischievously, she says, “That’s enough for now.” Shocked, I look over at her, and she seems to be the perfect picture of calmness.
On the other hand, my pulse is racing, and I feel like I’m the one who’s going to have the tantrum. “What? Why?” I mutter.
She takes my hand and holds it in hers as she crosses her legs. “Because, providing details wasn’t part of the trade.”
I’m horny as hell as I pull up to the hotel, and I hope the evidence in my jeans isn’t too noticeable as I hand the valet my keys. I’ve already checked us in, and I have the room key in my pocket, so we head straight to the elevators.
We’re finally alone in the elevator. My heart is beating about seven times too fast as I reach out and grab her. Pressing her body against the wall, I pull her mouth to mine and enjoy the taste of her. This is not a loving romantic kiss. That time has passed.
“I want you, now,” I manage between my wet and tongue-filled kisses.
“I want you too.”
Staggering out of the elevator, not wanting to unlock my lips from hers, I try to pull the key out of my back pocket, but she’s distracting me. Her fingers are in the waistband of my boxers, and she’s sliding them around to the front trying to unbutton my fly as I try to blindly reach behind and pull the keycard out.
We make our way to the room, and I somehow manage to open the door. As we enter, I shove her dress down, and it immediately falls to the ground. Fuck, she isn’t wearing a bra either. Inhaling deeply, I step back to just look at her. She’s standing in front of me in her f**k-me boots and pearls only. I really want to take a picture of her. I know I’ll never forget her image like this, right now, but I want to be able to see her whenever she’s not with me.
She stands there watching me watch her. I see her breath picking up as she runs her fingers through her hair.
I take another step back and glance around the room. “Champagne? I ask pointing to the bottle chilling on the table near the window and the bowl of strawberries next to it.
“Absolutely,” she says, standing there biting her lip.
Walking over to where the bottle is, I pop the cork and pour us a glass, adding two strawberries to hers. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything,” she answers, and I love that she feels completely comfortable with her body around me.
“Can I take your picture?” I’m a little nervous asking because I really have no idea what she will say, other than calling me a pervert probably.
She slowly walks over to me and takes the glass of champagne I put the two strawberries in. She takes the berry I pushed onto the rim, dips it in the liquid, and bites it. “Maybe we can barter?”
Swallowing at the sight of her, all of my nervousness is gone instantly.
I take another berry from the bowl, dip it into her glass, and press it to her lips. “Oh yeah. What did you have in mind?”
“I want a picture too.”
Furrowing my brow, I ask, “You want a n*ked picture of me in pearls and boots?”
Giggling, she says, “No, silly. I want a picture of you . . .” She sets her glass down and quickly unbuttons my shirt, tossing it aside. “Wearing only your jeans and . . .”
Moving my mouth to hers, I lick the champagne off her lips. “And?”
“Your picture first,” she says, sucking on my bottom lip before moving back.
Shrugging my shoulders, I reach into my front pocket and pull out my phone. The ‘Touch Me’ pick is in there as well. I smile as I pull it out. “I’ll save this for later,” I say, raising the tab before placing it on the table.
She starts to make all sorts of absurd poses, and I pretend to be a fashion photographer telling her what to do. We do this for at least five minutes as her poses go from nice to naughty, and my horny meter rises off the charts from the site of her in just those boots and her beautiful pearls.
“Okay play time is over. Time for the real picture.”
“Okay, bossy pants,” she says with her hands on her hips. “Where do you want me?”
“Right there,” I point to where she’s standing as I lean over and gently kiss her. “Thank you.”
She gives me a soft smile, and I hit the camera button three times to ensure one of the pictures is good. I scroll to the camera roll and look. “You really are so beautiful Dahlia,” I say, handing her my phone to look.
“I don’t want to see myself n*ked you pervert,” she quips, and I start full out laughing. I grab our glasses and handing her one, I toast, “Happy Valentine’s Day, beautiful girl.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, River. I love you.”
We both take a sip and I grab another berry from the bowl and dip it in her glass but his time I don’t run it over lips, I trail it down her chest. Then with the tip of my tongue I follow the path I made with the champagne. Her ni**les harden instantly as I circle one then the other before sliding my tongue back up her chest, her neck, and to her ear where I whisper, “I want you now.”
“Ah ah ah,” she says, waving her finger at me.
Walking over to the bed where she threw her purse, she pulls out a tube of lipstick and smears it on her lips.
“You don’t need that, you know. It’s not like we’re going anywhere,” I tell her, confused as to why she’d put that stuff on now.
“I know. It’s for my picture.”
“I already took your picture, Dahlia.”
“No silly, the one I’m taking of you.”
“Oh no, I’m not wearing lipstick,” I warn. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
Walking back over to me with that tube in her hand she says, “Oh you’re wearing it, just not on your lips.”
Standing in front of me, she starts firmly pressing her lips all over my shoulders, chest, and stomach. When she finishes, she pushes me over to the bed. “Lie down.”
“Who’s the bossy one?” I laugh.
She ignores me and grabs for her phone. If I’m lucky, she would have forgot to charge it again. Shit. I guess not. She starts snapping pictures of me.
“I’m not posing,” I say as I just lay on the bed with my hands behind my head.
“Suit yourself.”
I love how easy going she is.
“Done,” she says.
Now, finally we can do what I’ve wanted to do since I saw her in those boots, well actually, what I want to do every time I look at her. And since it’s Valentine’s Day, I’m going to take it slow and make love to this beautiful, fun, sexy, and simply amazing girl.
So with that in mind, I stand up, shove my jeans and boxers off, step out of them as quickly as I can, and tell her, “Good, because I’m not.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
DIAMONDS
I hold one in my hand
It’s waiting for you
I know the time is right
I can see light in your eyes
So please say yes.
River’s POV
June 2012 - 6 months later…
Grabbing a fist full of his preppy ass shirt, I jerk him toward me and get right in his face. “She’s mine. You don’t deserve her, you never did.”
He stares at me, unfazed, before angrily shaking me off. Then almost laughing, he says, “Is that how you see it? I see it a little differently. You filled a void I left behind, but that’s all you’ll ever be; a substitute for the real thing.”
Lunging at him, a punch him square in the jaw. He doesn’t move to hit me back, in fact he doesn’t physically engage me at all, but the pain he causes is deeper than any physical impact could have ever been.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes narrow on mine. “Believe what ever the f**k you want, pretty boy. She was mine first, and she’ll always be mine. Nothing you ever say or do can change that.” Then he turns and fades into the night.
Yelling, “She’s not your anything!” I feel a tug at my arm. I open my eyes and pop up on my elbows immediately. The room is pitch black. I can’t see anything. She shifts in the bed and a flicker of a switch has me instantly squinting. The light from the lamp shines on her golden hair as she sits next to me and strokes my cheek. “Are you okay?”
Breathing heavily, I try to shake it off. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. I will never loose her. I swallow a few times before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine.”