Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
ALEX
A fter a long day of work, I’m glad to shower and change into a clean shirt, ready for my date. Elliot is at a friend’s house, and security has told me so far, so good. I’ve got nothing to do this evening except spend time with my voluptuous Valentine.
I drive to her place, letting out a long breath as I mentally release the stress of the day. Three complicated surgeries, one life lost, a grieving family somberly thanking me for everything I did while their loved one was alive.
It puts everything in perspective.
Alex: I’m outside, my voluptuous, virgin Valentine.
Tori: You’re getting good at this alliteration stuff, doctor.
I smirk. So, she’s in a playful mood. Maybe she’s as keen to forget about the Kent crap as I am.
Alex: You’re my voluptuous, virgin, vivacious, valuable, virtuosic Valentine.
Tori: Okay, whoa, you’ve just impressed the poet in me big time. I won’t be long. I’m just putting on my dress. It’s sort of new. I bought it ages ago but didn’t have a reason to wear it. I’m worried it might be too ‘look at me.’
Alex: If that’s your way of saying it enhances your natural beauty, I have to see it.
A few minutes later, she walks out of her building, the front light automatically switching on. Across the street, a car starts its engine: her security team is getting ready to follow us. But I register all this distantly, vaguely.
My gaze is glued to my Valentine.
She’s wearing a hip-hugging dress that perfectly outlines her body. The cut isn’t high, but it shows enough of her thick, delicious thighs to start hardening my cock. The modest neckline shows the shape of her swells but reveals no cleavage.
As she gets closer, I see that she’s straightened her hair, making her look stylish and captivating. She wears a light layer of makeup, just enough to draw attention to her naturally enchanting features.
I sweep my arms around her waist and pull her close so she can feel my manhood thickening with tension. “You look perfect,” I tell her.
“You like it?”
“I love it.”
She flinches slightly at the L-word as though she thinks I’m aiming it at her and not the outfit. I ignore the slight thrum of discontent inside me, reminding myself… no pressure.
“Shall we?” I open the car door for her.
“Why, thank you, sir,” she says, her face lighting up.
I take her to a rooftop restaurant; the clear sky gives us a view of the stars and the moon. She gazes up with interest, but I’ve only got eyes for her as I guide her with my hand on the small of her back.
We sit on the corner balcony, with views of the beach adding to the romantic atmosphere. I never thought about stuff like this before Cupid brought Tori into my life.
I squeeze her leg under the table. “I almost punched about ten guys just now.”
She looks at me, shocked. “What? Why?”
“Everybody was checking you out.”
She laughs, slapping my chest playfully. When the waitress comes, we order our drinks: iced tea for her, and club soda for me.
“I left something in the car,” I say, standing.
“What is it?”
“A gift. I want to give it to you here.”
Her smile is the only gift I’ll ever need. I don’t care if that makes me cheesy. “That is so romantic. But you don’t have to.”
“It won’t take long.”
I quickly run down to the car, annoyed that I’d forgotten it, and grab her gift from the back seat. When I return to the table, the waitress has brought our drinks. I sit down, kissing Tori on the cheek just to see her smile, then hand her the wrapped picture frame.
“Is it a snap of you, shirtless, staring broodingly at the camera?” she teases.
I laugh. “Why do I feel like you’re giving me hints…”
Her expression turns to pure joy when she sees what it is—a framed photo of her from last night’s poetry performance. She’s got both hands thrown in the air, her face pure passion, her eyes glimmering, her entire body contoured to her poetic purpose.
“How?” she whispers, getting choked up.
“I had one of my interns contact the venue and ask if there were any photographers there last night. There were, so I selected this shot and then had it printed on canvas and framed. I was worried it wouldn’t be ready on time, but luckily, it wa?—”
She interrupts me with a kiss. I thought I knew passion before, but my valentine surprises me with her perfection. She squeezes my leg under the table, then lets go with a gasp, her chest rising and falling dramatically.
“I need to chill.”
“I was about to say the opposite…”
She rolls her eyes. “This is so sweet, Alex. You didn’t have to do this. Especially when you were at work.”
“I want you to remember last night. It was a big milestone. You performed in front of your mom and your man.”
She bites down when I call myself her man, but I don’t apologize or take it back. We can dance around it, fight it, pretend all we want, but it’s the truth.
As the night continues, we talk about my work day, Tori taking an interest in the tragedy one of my patients suffered. We talk about her next performance. Sometimes, we don’t speak; we simply sit in a silence that feels comfortable in a way it hasn't before.
Now, we walk down the beach together. The security team is parked on the beachfront, but I’ve told them to keep their distance. I’ve got a text cued up and ready to go if we need them, but if anybody even thinks about trying to hurt my woman, I’ll rip them a new one.
“Elliot’s a good kid,” Tori murmurs, her head resting against my chest.
“I enjoyed watching you together this morning. I wouldn’t have guessed you were an only child. You were great with him. You had a maternal energy about you.”
She sinks her hands into my side. “Maternal? Me?”
“Why not?” I say. “It came naturally to you.”
“I’ve never even thought about having kids.”
“Why?” I ask.
She laughs shakily. “Well, firstly, to have kids, you need to find somebody. I’ve never thought about that .”
“You’ve found somebody now,” I tell her, kissing her just behind the ear, making her tilt her head in a captivating and magnetic way.
She stops and turns to me. “Are you saying you want to get me pregnant or something?”
Yes , some insane part of me wants to roar, the Cupid-fueled part.
“No,” I tell her. “I’m just saying, when the time comes, I think you’ll make an amazing mother. Think of the fuel it would give you for your poetry. A whole new world of subjects would open up.”
Her eyes glimmer as if she’s seeing that future, but then she shakes her head. “It’s too easy to mess up a kid. I wouldn’t trust myself.”
“You’re not messed up, Tori. You’re perfect.”
“Do you really mean that? Or is ‘perfect’ just a word you like to use?”
I grab her hips and pull her against me so there is little to no space between us. We’ve walked away from the main section of the beach. It’s quiet here, nobody watching us, nobody listening.
“I mean it,” I tell her, then press my lips against hers.
She moans, triggering my lust. As we make out, I take off my jacket.
“What are you doing?” She gasps between greedy kisses.
“I don’t want to get that dress sandy…”
“Huh?”
She giggles when I put my jacket on the sand, then gently lift and lower her to it. I lie atop her, kissing her again, knowing this is reckless, that I can’t watch our surroundings.
But somehow, I don’t care. It doesn’t seem to matter when I’ve got her body pressed against mine. Our lips fuse as if nothing else exists or matters, and that’s the goddamn truth.
As we kiss, I forget about the stress of the day and the heartache I had to thrust upon people who didn’t deserve it. I forget about the Kents. I forget about everything except for the feel of her body.
“You’re so hot,” she whimpers.
“You’re pretty damn hot yourself…”
“No, physically,” she says. “You’re burning up.”
“It’s you,” I tell her. “You do this to me, Tori. You set me on fire.”
She lets her head fall back when I slide my hand up her leg, feeling her naked thigh, the goosebumps on her perfect skin. I look around to make sure nobody’s watching us.
I wouldn’t be able to stay calm if somebody else saw Tori like this, her legs open, my hand under the hem of her skirt, the smell of the ocean rushing around us. I push my hand against the wetness of her underwear, feeling her folds through the fabric, her swollen nub begging for attention.
“Oh, God…” She shifts her hips against me, chasing the pleasure. “Yes, yes…”
“You feel perfect,” I snarl.
“That’s your… favorite… word, huh?”
I smirk, kissing her neck. I do it softly at first, but her taste is addictive. I bite down, tasting her sweat, her essence. Her moans become more magnetic when I gently push her underwear aside.
I know I should stop. The beach is quiet, sure, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. It doesn’t mean somebody might not walk by, catch us, see my woman like this, and provoke a furious protective instinct in me.
When I feel her sopping entrance, though, I know I can’t stop. I circle her wetness with my finger, leaning back so I can watch her as I caress her. Her mouth is open, starlight glimmering in her eyes and on her cheeks.
She shifts her hips in time with me, up and down, grinding her wetness against my hand. My breath comes shakily as I try to keep it together. My body throws signals at me: tear down my pants, bring my swollen dick to her waiting hole, slip into her slit, and fuck her hard on this beach. Who gives a damn if we’re in public?
Her moans change quality, becoming more urgent, her breath catching as though she’s on the verge of letting go completely. I push the heel of my palm against her needy pleasure point, caressing her entrance with my finger at the same time.
She grabs my face and stares into my eyes. “Oh, Alex,” she moans. “This feels… you feel… like fate.”
Her eyes widen as if her words have shocked her. She rubs her sweet pussy up and down my hand, her hips bucking like she’s getting ready to take off.
“It is fate,” I growl. “I don’t care if that means we’re nuts. I don’t care what other people would say. I don’t care if Valentine’s Day is supposed to be a cynical holiday nobody takes seriously.”
Her moans become musical and poetic as I caress her heat.
“Something happened to us. You changed me. We changed each other. Texting you has been sweeter than any other relationship could be.”
She wraps her hands around my wrist and pushes so that I’m applying more pressure to her body.
Finally, she makes a gorgeous sound of release. I kiss her before her moan turns into a fully-fledged scream, and then she falls back, gasping. I look around to make sure nobody saw.
“Are we good?” she asks, panting.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Nobody saw what happened. Don’t worry, angel. I’d never let anyone else see you like that.”
She sits up, adjusting her dress, then takes my hands. “Did you mean what you said?”
“Did you?” I counter.
She bites her lip. “In the moment, it felt true. But fate… Valentine’s… I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?” I demand, my voice growing fierce.
“It sounds like the sort of thing Mom would fall for.”
“Except you’re not falling for anything,” I say. “I’m not lying to you. I’d never lie to yo?—”
My cell phone rings.
I sigh. “I need to get this. That’s the ringtone I use for Catelina. Elliot might need me.”
“Yes, yes. Get it,” she says quickly.
Her eyes register fear. I know what she’s thinking. Has Damien somehow got his hands on Elliot? I answer the call.
“Alex,” Cat says. “Elliot is home from his friend’s. He told me he took a tumble on his bike and said he wasn’t hurt. But now he’s having trouble closing his fist. I think maybe something is wrong?”
“Thanks for calling, Cat,” I say, relieved that Damien isn’t the problem. “Take him to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”
“The hospital?” Tori says once I’ve hung up, sounding strangled with fear. “Oh, God. What’s happened? Is he going to be okay?”
Her concern touches me. “Hey, relax. He just fell off his bike, that’s all. It sounds like he might’ve fractured something.”
“Oh.” She lets out a trembling breath.
“It’s sweet, Tori,” I say, standing and offering my hand. “How much you care about him.”