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“I should be the one apologizing to you, Jay,” she says softly with a slight hitch to her voice. More tears I’m guessing. Which I will be having none of tonight unless they are happy ones.
I reach over and tip her chin up slightly with a finger. “How about we just forget about last night? Hmm.”
She gives a little nod then sips her wine. The server brings out our appetizers of bruschetta. Zoey eyes them hungrily, making me so damn happy because she hasn’t eaten much in weeks.
It’s amazing how little things like that are what count the most.
“How did you do all of this?” she finally asks the question that’s been burning on her tongue.
I give a little laugh. “Called in a few favors and owe a lot more. Zane and Rory helped a lot. So did Fet and D’Andre. Do you like it?”
I already know the answer. I could see it in her eyes the moment she stepped off the elevator. But I had to ask anyway.
“It’s beautiful. It looks like this should’ve taken days. Not hours.”
“I had a lot to make up for,” I say honestly. I just told her to forget about last night, and I meant it. This isn’t just for last night. This is for everything. This is a symbol that I would move heaven and earth to make her happy.
We sit talking about nothing for a while. We eat our meal. We laugh. We remember moments that were important to us. It’s funny that the most important ones to both of us would probably be the most insignificant to others. The memory we both feel is the most significant to both of us was the night we finally admitted to each other how we felt. That night has led us here.
After we’ve finished off the last of our lasagna, I stand from my seat with a hand extended to her. “Dance with me,” I whisper.
Her face flushes. The look is so beautiful on her it makes me wish I could keep it there. She slips her tiny hand into my much larger one as she stands. I wrap my arms around her waist to hold her close as the musicians begin to play.
We sway in the candlelight under the stars and moon. I’m thankful that today and tonight has been unseasonably warm even for the south as I hold her close to me.
I breath in her scent. That scent of lavender and citrus that has always made me think of her. “You’re beautiful, Angel. Do you know that?”
“You look pretty good yourself,” she says teasingly but I know she means it. I can see it in the way her eyes always rake over my body. In the way they always follow my tongue on my lips.
I lean down to place a kiss to her mouth. It’s soft and gentle, but firm and unwavering. It conveys that not only do I love her and need her but that I want her and I’m not going anywhere.
My tongue licks the seam of her lips asking for entrance. She parts her just enough to let me slip inside her mouth. A whimper escapes when I lick the roof of her mouth. When I trail my mouth down her jaw to the soft skin below her ear she moans a heady, erotic sound.
I’d planned on making this evening soft and sweet. A romantic gesture of sorts without the promise of sex. I didn’t want to go there, and have everything ruined by the ghost of her memories. I wanted this night to be just she and I.
But my resolve is quickly fading with each moan that passes her lips. Every time her harden nipples press through her dress and my shirt against my chest. I pull back from her a bit to catch my breath and to look at her face.
Her dilated pupils are full of want and need. Her tongue darts out to lick her red, swollen lips. Her breast, full and heavy with arousal, heave with each breath she takes.
I move my lips to hers again, grabbing her ass through the tight dress. With a gesture of my hand, I let everyone there with us know they’re excused. I don’t think I need them anymore tonight.
I run my hand down to her thigh and back up until they slip beneath the skirt of her dress. They find her bare center, wet and wanting. My dick throbs against the zipper of my pants.
“Zoey,” I rasp. For what I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’m asking her to stop this or continue it, but I need something from her.
“Please, Jax. I need you,” she moans softly.
“Fuck,” I groan hoarsely as I smash my mouth to hers, lifting her up, wrapping her legs around my waist.
I walk us to the huge outdoor bed I had placed there so we could watch the stars. Turns out we’ll be the ones to give the stars a show.
I quickly remove her dress then my jacket and shirt. I lower myself down to her, placing my tongue flat against her dripping pussy. Her hips immediately buck against my mouth. One, two, three flicks and she is coming, screaming my name like a curse.
Her pussy is still spasming when I remove my pants and in one quick thrust, plant myself deeply inside of her.
“Oh, god, Jax,” she moans.
I won’t last long. I haven’t so much as used my hand in the last few weeks. Built up need has me close before I even start moving.
