Chapter 39
F lames from the fireplace flicker across Reid’s gorgeous face. When he sees me, he stands to his full height, and I swear my eyes bug out of my head and my tongue unfurls like one of those Bugs Bunny cartoons.
His beard is neatly groomed, and his hair is a bit shorter—how didn’t I notice when he picked me up?
Atop his wavy hair is a chocolate, felt cowboy hat that looks brand new.
He removes the hat by the pinched crown and holds the brim to his chest. The lace thong melts off my body.
What is it about this man in a cowboy hat that makes me feral?
“Isabelle”—he swallows, drinking me in—“you look beautiful.”
His eyes greedily rove up and down my figure. “So pretty, sugar. You're perfect.”
My brain latches onto his words. He didn’t say I look perfect, he said I'm perfect.
And in this moment, I believe him. I meet his glittering eyes and my heart soars.
I see pure adoration gazing back at me, and I hope my expression conveys the same in return, because I'm completely under this man’s spell.
Reid is devastating in a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit.
The pants hang perfectly over shined mahogany brown dress cowboy boots.
They fit his muscular thighs just snug enough that I feel indecent staring at him for too long.
I wonder what his ass looks like. I bet it’s hot enough to light this entire house on fire.
Tucked into the slacks, tucked behind a patina belt buckle, is a crisp, white dress shirt. It molds against his broad chest and hangs comfortably at his waist.
The shirt has several top buttons undone, revealing his tanned skin and trimmed chest hair. My heart squeezes with pride at the exposed sliver of his scarred pec. He’s come so far from the man I met who diligently covered his scars.
The suit jacket hangs exquisitely across his wide shoulders. I want to lick every inch of this man’s body like a Blow Pop. How many licks does it take to get my prize?
“You look so handsome. I wish you could feel how fast my heart is beating. You take my breath away.”
He gives me a shy smile, and his deep voice rumbles, “Will you be my Valentine, Isabelle?”
My heart skips a beat. No one has ever asked me to be their Valentine before.
“Yes,” I reply breathlessly.
“Will you have dinner with me?” Reid asks.
I can only nod, but a full toothed smile stretches across his face, and his dimple makes a guest star appearance. He places his cowboy hat atop my head and looks at me with deep satisfaction—something hungry in his hazel eyes.
Reid leads me to the dining room with his hand on the small of my back. The heat from his palm radiates through the thin material of my dress and a wave of desire licks up my spine.
As we walk to the dining room, we pass the living room, filled with huge vases overflowing with incredible floral bouquets.
Roses in shades of white, cream, pale pink, hot pink, red, burgundy and deep red bordering on black.
I want to run my fingers across each satin petal, but Reid keeps guiding me through the room.
Reid ditches the suit coat and drapes it over an empty chair, before pulling out the chair next to him for me.
I'm blown away by everything Reid has prepared for me. Every detail is exacted to my preferences—I never realized he paid such close attention to me. I feel like I’ve been transported into the pages of one of my romance novels.
There's a full taco bar spread filling the dining table.
Soft shells, hard shells, carnitas, chicken, four kinds of cheese, lettuce, pico de gallo, salsa, and guacamole.
I'm in heaven. We each have a vintage soda fountain glass filled with Cherry Pepsi and a crazy straw.
Watching this hulk of a man drink from a crazy straw might be a new kink. Locking that away to explore later.
We eat our weight in tacos—life is too short to be “ladylike” and eat like a bird. Fuck that. I’m chowing down on some tacos, romantic date or not. And the fact that Reid is attracted to me even when I have my jaw unhinged like a snake to eat a mega stuffed taco, tells me everything I need to know.
Reid disappears into the kitchen and returns holding a small dessert plate, his hand concealing what it holds.
“Close your eyes and open that pretty pink mouth.” Oh, dear god, I just made a mess of my panties. His. Voice. Fuck.
I do as he says and wait with electricity crackling across my skin.
“Good girl.” Fuuuuuck. Yep. My panties are soaked through, and I can feel my arousal seeping out.
Reid’s thumb presses firmly down on my bottom lip, hinging my jaw wider and gives me a taste of my reward.
Chocolate. Covered. Strawberries. Classic and cliché, but the perfect blend of my chocolatey-fruity modus operandi. No words are needed. I devour the treat but can’t resist seeing his reaction. Unbridled hunger stares back at me.
I take his hand and bring each finger into my mouth to suck off the melted chocolate. Reid’s nostrils are flaring, and his chest is heaving for breath.
“Sit with me by the fire.” He doesn’t ask, he tells. He takes his hat from my head and sets it upside down on the coffee table in front of us.
We sit thigh to thigh on the sofa, energy flowing back and forth between our charged bodies. He bends forward and reaches underneath the couch, presenting me with a small, pink velvet box in his massive palm.
Opening it with his other hand reveals a stunning necklace. A thin white gold chain is threaded through a single pendant, a crystal-clear pear shaped morganite stone. The light pink is ethereal and delicate, catching the firelight beautifully.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sugar.”
“Will you put it on me?” I feel like I'm in a fairytale.
His huge fingers somehow manage to clasp the delicate jewelry around my neck. The brushes of his calloused fingers send shivers down my spine and up into my hair all along my scalp.
I touch the pendant reverently and suddenly remember. I burst off the couch and holler “Be right back!” over my shoulder as I run into the bedroom. I dig through my bag until I find what I'm looking for and come back to sit with Reid.
I hand him the softball sized box, wrapped in matte black paper, and topped with a metallic black bow.
“Will you be my Valentine, Reid?”
A half smile reveals his dimple. “Yes, sugar, of course I’ll be your Valentine.”
I fidget in my seat—I'm so excited for him to open it. I’ve had it for weeks and have been dying to give it to him. His reaction could go either way, but I have a gut feeling he'll be happy.
My stomach flips as he pulls his present from the box. He examines it carefully, turning it over in his hands. He holds it in one outstretched palm and boops the top with his other hand.
It’s a bobblehead armadillo.
“I thought you could mount it on your dash, and Sam can come along on all your adventures,” I offer with hope in my voice.
He sets the armadillo on the side table beside him and crushes me in a bear hug, knocking me back onto the sofa.
Muffled like Batman, he speaks directly into my neck, his soft lips sending goosebumps over my entire body. “I love it.”
He feels so good on top of me, so I hug him back harder, pressing my breasts into chest. He inhales a path from where my neck meets my shoulder, up to the tender spot behind my ear. I let out a soft mewl which spurs him on.
He presses soft kisses below my ear and back down my neck at a maddeningly slow pace.
I can’t take it. I moan his name, and he growls into my neck.
Reid’s strong arm dips down to the small of my back, pulling my stomach up closer to his heavy body, and he uses the other to prop himself up, so he's hovering over me.
His pupils are blown out in lust—mine must look the same.
“You say somethin’, sugar?”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“Is that so?” He lowers his head, and I arch my neck in anticipation. He swirls his tongue in the hollow of my throat and licks a path to my chin.
“Reid!” I gasp.
“What’s that now?”
“I hate you so much.” The thing is, I don’t hate him. I hate wanting him but being too afraid to do anything about it.
“Aw, come on, sugar. I don’t think you hate me at all.”
He pulls me up with his impressive upper body strength, the hand on my lower back slides down and over my ass to grasp me under my thigh, rotating us so I'm straddling him. The motion and wide spread of my legs to accommodate his hips bunches my dress up indecently.
My breasts are heaving with the intensity of my breathing, and his eyes travel between my eyes, my lips, and my chest in rapt fascination.
"If you hate me so much, why are you already wet for me sugar?” he teases, gripping both of my ass cheeks and grinding my center against his erection.
A desperate moan escapes me as my clit drags along the front of his slacks. I press my palms against his chest, pushing back to see his face clearly. My cheeks flood with heat. Dirty talk from Reid is something I never knew I needed more than my next breath.
He leans back, pressing his weight into the back of the couch, hands flexing around my ass. He looks wicked, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes.
“I don’t think you hate me at all. If you hated me, you wouldn’t be soaking through your panties right now.”
My body is writhing against him without my permission. I never thought much about dirty talk but holy shit, I'm dizzy with lust. Two can play this game.
“Is that so?” I rotate my hips, grinding against his hard length, a steady stroke of friction. His hips buck up into me and he groans.
“I only have so much self-control, but I’m not going to touch you until you ask me to. You deserve a choice. The power is all yours, baby.”
I’m aching for him. I’ve never been this aroused in my entire life. But I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what to ask for. Oh, hi Reid, can you please do the sex with me? Forget it.
“Don’t you…want me?” Insecurity rises in my throat.
“You have no idea, sugar. I’ve been fucking my fist for months thinking about you. Want doesn’t even begin to cover the way I feel about you.”
His admission leaves me stunned. There’s no way.
There's no ever-loving way Reid Andersen is as attracted to me as I am to him. Everything he’s done for me today is incredible, but my insecurity is rearing its ugly head.
I try to lean in to kiss him, but he pulls back a fraction before I reach him.
“Don’t go tryin’ to distract me. I’m going to need to hear you loud and clear. I need your full consent, Isabelle. You deserve that respect.”
His chivalry and integrity are admirable, but I don’t know how to do any of this.
All I know is my body is thrumming with need for him, but I can’t say the words that he wants me to say.
I'm on the precipice of something life changing—all I have to do is take the leap.
My entire being is shouting that I can trust Reid.
So, I jump.