44 – Dessert Is Served
Casey
“Jessie?” I call for him as I enter his café. It’s dark out, the snow was relentless today, and it’s absolutely freezing. I shiver as I step into the shop, the fireplace to the left heating the space and setting a romantic, warm glow across the space. My chest warms, and I can’t fight the smile that spreads across my face. I take a few more steps in and look around the shop. It’s different at this time of night. None of the ceiling lights are on, only the fireplace and a corner lamp light up the room, the back of the shop disappearing in darkness. Only flickering light coming from the mezzanine above the counter.
“Jessie?” I call again, now slightly breathless. Either the desire to see him or the romantic setting stealing my breath. I have no idea at this point.
“Hey, sunshine.” His deep voice from close behind startles me, and I turn quickly, almost tripping on my feet, but his strong hands dart out to catch me, pulling me against him. His smile is devastating, his eyes hooded as he looks me over. “You look delicious.” He hums and leans down to steal my lips in a kiss. I sigh into it and let him kiss me for a few moments before he pulls away. “I have a surprise for you.” He turns and drags me by the hand up the stairs to the floating second level. This is usually just a reading space; books line every wall and there are reading couches and silent areas gathered in the center. Except, when we crest the top level, most of the center furniture has been pushed aside and there is a simple table and two chairs lit up with candles everywhere, a stunning bunch of marigolds lay across the table and I have to smother the squeal from my throat. He walks us to the table, lifts my hand to kiss my knuckles, and hands me the bunch of flowers.
“They’re beautiful,” I breathe as I take them from him and hide my blush from his gentlemanly act.
“I have to admit something,” he says with mischief.
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow at him and lay the flowers back on the table as he pulls me into his arms.
“I watched The Notebook today.” By the look on his face, he is mortified at the admission, and it has me giggling like a schoolgirl. Jessie starts to sway us in the open area of the top level, an arm wrapped around my lower back holding me to him, his left hand holding my right,
“Did you love it?” I ask, not able to hold back my smugness because I’ve been trying to get him to watch that for weeks. He just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
“The book was better.” He hums slightly and I tuck this piece of information away, as he continues to sway us in a waltz. I roll my eyes at his statement and he just smiles.
That’s when I notice the background acoustic music.
“Are we dancing right now?”
“We are.” He nods, his incredibly handsome smile beaming across his face.
“Happy birthday, stella mea,” he whispers and steals my lips in a delicate kiss. Tentative and searching, a greeting and a declaration all in one. I let go of his hand and wind my arms around his neck to pull him closer, to deepen the kiss, and he holds me firmly around my lower back, groaning as I swipe my tongue against his. His grip tightens on my hips, and he withdraws on a chuckle.
“Not going to make it to the end of the night if you keep that up.”
“Good, let’s just skip to the end part,” I pant and try to pull him against me again, except he stops me, chuckling. I roll my eyes at him, but settle into his embrace as we dance gently to the acoustic music.
“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Jess.”
He just shrugs and I can hear the smile in his words, “You’re Jessie’s girl. You watch me with those blue eyes, love me with this incredible body, and holding you late at night, like this, is something I dream about.” I blink as his words settle in, and when I pull back to assess his face, the cute blush across his cheeks, I almost burst with laughter.
“Did you just paraphrase Rick Springfield?” I accuse, not able to wipe the humor from my face, and he just smiles wider, chuckling with me as he points to his ear, gesturing for me to listen. That’s when I hear it. The song we are dancing to is an acoustic instrumental of Rick Springfield’s song, Jessie’s Girl. The same song I played when I told him I loved him for the first time. A huge laugh howls from my throat, my head thrown back, and I feel Jessie’s body shake with humor with me.
“Oh, Jessie, you’re a massive cheeseball,” I say between chuckles, and when I look back at him, only love and adoration hit me in those eyes.
“I know.” He sighs, shaking his head gently at me. “I can’t even help it. Loving you has ruined all my masculine street cred,” he jokes, and I slap his chest.
“I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, actually, ” I joke back, raising my eyebrows at him and turning to walk toward the table he has set. He doesn’t let me get far, coming up behind me, his hands firm on my hips, pulling my back to his front as he nuzzles my neck.
“The greatest, and there is no getting rid of me now,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against my neck, and I nearly melt into a puddle. I lean my head back on his shoulder, combing a hand through his messy hair as he kisses my neck.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I whisper back–or basically pant. It doesn’t take much for Jessie to get me worked up. One kiss, even a little look with his stunning hooded eyes, the uptilt of his pretty smile, and I’m a goner.
Like he is also struggling to fight the rapidly growing desire between us, his grip tightens on my hips, gently thrusting into my ass, amplifying the need we have for each other.
“I think it’s time for dessert,” he grounds out, and I meet his thrust with my own, practically dry humping each other as I claw at his hair and struggle to control my breaths.
“We haven’t even had dinner yet,” I breathe.
“It’s your birthday. Consider it a gift.” And before I know what’s happening, Jessie has me spun around and lifted onto the table, my legs spread. He stands between them and seals his lips on mine in a demanding kiss. His expert hands tour my whole body, unzipping my jacket and peeling it from my shoulders. He makes quick work of peeling my top from my body, which exposes the gift I have for him, that I was hoping would be revealed later.
“You’re spoiling part of your gift,” I say, and when he pulls back, his eyes bore into my chest, at the pale blue lace bra that cups my small breasts perfectly, barely covering anything, the material see-through and leaving my puckered nipples visible.
“This fucking blue.” His attention is stuck in the middle, though, at what I knew he’d enjoy, the small silver star charm that hangs at the material between my breasts. I watch his eyes turn predatory and he drags a delicate finger between my tits, playing with the charm.
“Part of?” he chokes out, his eyes glued to the star charm.
“Well, if you keep removing my clothing, you’ll see the rest.” His eyes snap to mine and his lips pull into a devious half smile that has me almost whimpering. I swear, sometimes, the way he looks at me could make me come. No touching needed.
“You know, it’s your birthday. You’re not supposed to get me anything,” he says, but his voice is a tease. His hands dig into the waistband of my jeans, the button and zip are flicked with his expert hands while his eyes remain on mine.
“Maybe it’s an early Christmas present, then,” I whisper. He slowly peels my jeans from my body, and when there is nothing but my thong and bra covering me, he takes a small step back and examines me. A groan leaves him as he drags a hand down his face and rests his hands on his hips. His eyes trailing me everywhere. The slow and deliberate perusal sends shivers across my body.
“Fucking masterpiece,” he whispers, and then in another breath, he is on me. Capturing my lips in a demanding kiss, swallowing my moans as he gradually lays me down on the table, his lips eventually leaving mine to kiss down my neck and across my collarbone.
“ Stella mea ,” he whispers. So much longing in his voice. My Star. I know this man has a love for nicknames, but every time he calls me his star, I feel my heart explode. It would be almost impossible to love him deeper than I already do, but somehow, every time he says it, I fall even more.
His lips find mine and kiss me back, desperately, his hands working frantically, dipping under the front of my panties and trailing a finger through my middle, so gently, teasingly that it has me pulling from the kiss in a gasp.
“I love how wet you get for me. How quickly I can have you dripping,” he pants, his voice full of arrogance. “Who do you want tonight, sunshine?” he asks, his lips trailing a path back down my body, alternating between bites, licks and kisses.
“The animal or the gentleman?” His fingers curl around the edge of the G-string, pulling them slowly down my legs.
“I just want you,” I whisper in response, and it is his undoing.
The underwear discarded, his knees hit the floor, and his mouth descends on me like a beast starved. His tongue expertly licking the length of me before drawing in my clit and sucking.
“Oh my god,” I moan, my back arching off the table, gripping my fingers through his hair to hold him in place. I guess it’s the savage then.
With no mercy, he devours me, thrusting three of his fingers into me. “So fucking tight,” he grinds out, his hand picking up the pace while the other reaches up and tucks itself under my bra to flick and squeeze my nipples.
“Holy shit,” I groan, because, animal he is, with his tongue teasing my peak and his fingers curling to thrust against that sensitive spot, the orgasm hits me in no time and I convulse around him as he continues to lick me and tease me.
“This blue is exquisite,” he whispers, placing one more delicate kiss to my center before withdrawing himself, grabbing my hand and sitting me up so that our chests are together, bringing his lips to mine. “But the greatest gift of all was you letting me into your heart.” He kisses me passionately, tasting myself on his tongue, and I moan into his embrace.
“You’re not so bad at gift giving either,” I pant and he chuckles, his warm hands searching my bare back as he unclasps my bra from behind.
“And we’ve only just begun, stella mea . When I’m done, you won’t be able to walk out of here.” He punctuates with a nip to my neck and I gasp.
“I can only hope.”
Jessie and I broke the table. But he was adamant to continue our date, so we currently lay on a blanket from the back room by the fireplace, utterly naked and sated from an evening well spent. He wasn’t joking about not being able to walk. After my first gift, Jessie bent me over the table–hence it now being broken–the savage that he is, followed by a passionate declaration of love from the gentleman. I was four orgasms in for the night when he heard my stomach grumble and was adamant we should eat before he gave me any more.
“I have something else for you,” he says, dropping the plate of Scottish macaroons–yes, you heard correctly. For my birthday, Jessie got my family cookbook from my mom and spent the last twenty-four hours making some of my favorite recipes so he could feed them to me on my birthday.
“Jessie, if it’s your penis, can I have a nap first?” I groan as I pull the blanket around me tighter from my spot on the floor and he chuckles, disappearing for a bit.
After a few moments, I feel a delicate finger brush my cheek and my eyes are peeled open. I hadn’t realized I drifted off, but now, my head lays in Jessie’s lap, his stunning mixed-colored eyes staring down at me as he caresses my cheek. “I didn’t realize I had actually wrecked you.” The bastard is smug, but God, he is delicious when he looks at me like that. I chuckle and sit up slightly.
“Here.”
“What is this?” I say, but know exactly what I’m looking at. It’s a manuscript. Except it’s not the one I stole, it’s a different one, with his name on it and a new title. “ Finding Home ?” I read it and look at him. He scratches the back of his neck.
“The first one was therapy. An outlet, a way to get all the pain out. This one…” He gestures to the manuscript in my hand. “This one is a healing. This one holds my heart. Like you do. Do you think…” His eyes scan the ceiling, and I don’t miss the curse he mutters as I see the embarrassment and shyness over take him. Discarding the manuscript, I crawl toward him and climb onto his lap, straddling him as the blanket falls away, both of us still as naked as the day we were born, and feel him stand at attention immediately.
“I can give it to Rosie.” His eyes connect with mine in gratitude, and a light blush hits his cheeks.
“Your writing is truly incredible, Jessie. I can’t wait for people to read your words and know how amazing you are,” I whisper, and his hands land on my hips, slowly but lovingly grinding me down further.
“You haven’t even read this one.” I shake my head.
“I don’t need to.” I kiss each of his cheeks and then climb out of his lap. His grunt in disappointment has me giggling. “Relax, caveman, I’m getting your present, too.”
“That wasn’t all I got you.” He sounds chastised, and it makes me laugh more.
I quickly reach for my bag and grab the gift I got for him, and head back to the fireplace. I go to perch next to him, but Jessie isn’t having that. He pulls me into his lap, forcing me to straddle him again. “It’s your birthday, Ace. You shouldn’t have got me anything at all.”
“I couldn’t wait until tomorrow to give you this one. It’s your Christmas present. It’s nothing, really.”
He watches me for a beat, but then takes the gift from my hand and starts unwrapping it. He pulls out the book I had bound, the black and silver canvas with his favorite blue foiling that reads t he Odyssey . “I know it’s not much. But you were reading this when it all started. I wanted to make one for you. Plus, I also added this.” I pull out the small leather journal with ‘ JJ’ engraved on the front. “I thought maybe you could use it as an idea’s notebook. So, while you’re working, you could write down anything you think of.” I shrug self-consciously and his eyes watch me, heavy with love and gratefulness.
“Ace, baby, this is… amazing. It’s too much, but I do love it. I love you,” he says, a slight croak to his voice as he admires the gifts again, discarding them and firmly wrapping his arms around me to nuzzle my neck.
“Thank you,” he whispers. We stay that way for a bit, something about the intensity of his emotions hitting me in the chest before he pulls back. “Last gift.” He hands me a box and kisses the tip of my nose as his big, warm hands gently tickle my lower back.
When I open the box, I see a journal almost identical to the one I got him, except larger, with a pale blue leather cover, and Stella Mea engraved on the front. A white ribbon bookmark hangs out the bottom, with a diamond star charm hanging from it, and I have to blink back the tears that sting my eyes.
“ Jessie. It’s so beautiful.” He doesn’t say anything, but when I look up to his eyes, they shine with joy, and he juts his chin. “Open it.” My brows furrow slightly and when I do, I realize it isn’t a journal at all, it’s a book.
Every page has a different quote. All the quotes he recited from his classic novels, all the lyrics I’ve repeated to him. All the words written or sung by famous people that we had used to communicate our love for each other when we couldn’t find our own.
Tears drip down my cheeks and I can’t fight the smile as I feel his heart beat faster.
“Oh my god,” I breathe. “Jessie, it’s… it’s everything. ” I close the book and hold it to my heart as I sob.
“Oh, sunshine, I didn’t want to make you cry.” He chuckles gently and pulls me to his chest as his hands comb through my hair.
“I love you, Jessie. So damn much it hurts.” I sob into his chest. He pulls back, his firm grip framing my face while his thumbs swipe away my tears.
“I love you, too, Casey.” He kisses me gently, then whispers over my lips, “So damn much it gives me hope.”
THE END