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FOUR
Denver
I park outsideof Emerson’s apartment complex, checking out my reflection one more time before I throw the door open, grabbing the box of chocolates off the passenger seat and heading for her place.
I’ve only been here once before when she needed help moving a couch, but I still remember the way to her place. I remember everything that has to do with my girl. I head up the stairs to the third floor and knock on her door. I can hear her moving around inside and I smile as I hear her rush to answer the door.
She throws it open a minute later and stands barefoot before me in a tight black wrap dress. Her hair is curled and lying in a midnight waterfall over one shoulder. She’s got her eyes lined in black and the dark lashes only make her grey eyes look lighter. I love those eyes. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before in my life and for a minute I let myself wonder if our kids will have grey eyes like her. Her lush lips are painted a vibrant red and my eye are immediately drawn there and captivated.
I watch as they start to move, and I realize that she’s talking to me. I blink as I try to clear the visions of those lips wrapped around a certain part of me from my mind.
“I just need to grab my shoes and I’ll be ready.”
“You look gorgeous.” I say, handing her the box of chocolates.
Her eyes light up and she grins at me before she opens the box and pops a chocolate in her mouth. She licks her fingers clean as she moans around the chocolate and I snap, wrapping my arms around her and dragging her flush with my body before my lips crash down on hers.
Finally.
She lets out a surprised gasp and I take the opening to slip my tongue into her mouth. I can taste the rich chocolate and I moan into her mouth when her tongue comes out to tangle with mine.
I want to keep kissing her, forever, but I don’t want her to think I only want one thing from her. I break the kiss, taking a step back and meeting her dazed eyes with my own. I watch as Emerson brings her fingers up, trailing them along her swollen lips. I groan and clench my hands into fists so that I don’t reach for her again.
“Get your shoes, Em. Before I bend you over your sofa.”
Her eyes darken and I take another step back and try to calm myself as she races back to her bedroom to grab her shoes. She appears a second later, hopping on one foot while she shoves her shoe on. Her curves bounce with her and I swear I almost come in my pants right there and then.
She gets her shoes on and walks over to me. I open the door for her and wait while she locks it before I slip my fingers through hers and lead her down to my car. I watch while she slips inside before I round the hood, adjusting myself as discreetly as I can before I slip behind the wheel. I slip my fingers through hers as we start to head down the coast.
I picked some seafood restaurant in Long Beach, a couple of minutes up the coast and we both admire the view as we cruise down the beach. Emerson has mentioned how much she likes seafood before, and I know for a fact that the Seaside Market is her favorite place.
The drive is nice and over far too quickly. I hate to let go of her hand but I know I need to so we can get out of the car. I jog over to her side and get her door, helping her out of the car and up the steps of the restaurant.
We decide to sit out on the deck to eat and we follow the server out to our table in the corner of the deck. I hand Emerson a menu before I open mine, deciding on the grilled flounder right away. I watch as Emerson bites her lip as she tries to decide what she wants to eat. She’s so sexy and she drives me wild constantly and she doesn’t even know it.
The waitress comes back out and we both order the flounder with a glass of wine. We sit back and relax in the warm weather. The sun is just starting to set and we both watch as it sinks over the water.
“Do you like it here?” She asks me.
“Yeah. It’s pretty. I’m not crazy about the heat though.”
“Oh, I know. It can be brutal some days. I don’t remember it being so unbearable here when I was a kid but now that I have to wear dress clothes every day, I seem to notice it more.”
“Did you like growing up here?”
“Yeah, there was always something to do and I liked the area, although I don’t really know any different.” She says with a small laugh.
I tell her about growing up in Portland and how it rained every other day and she tells me about staying through some of the hurricanes and tropical storms that they’ve had here.
“Where was your favorite base?” She asks me.
“It was Italy, but lately it’s been here.” I say staring right at her.
