by Shandi Boyes
Upon spotting the shocked expression on my face, tears prick Emily’s eyes. “Did you really think I’d forget your birthday?”
It isn’t that. I just had no clue she knew today was my birthday. I should have known better. She would have made it her mission to find out my date of birth the instant we started dating.
Moisture fills Emily’s eyes, fretful I’m mad about her unexpected visit. I’m not. I’m stoked she’s here—so much so, I don’t hesitate to show her how appreciative I am. Her pulse quickens when I shrug off my jacket and slip into the bed next to her so I can spend the rest of my birthday enjoying every inch of my most valued possession.
“I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”
Goosebumps pepper her skin when I guide her shirt over her head, exposing a lusty set of tits too perfect for a mere mortal. Dropping my head, my tongue darts across her budded nipple. It hardens more when I blow air on it, encouraging its stiffened response.
“Now I get to end my birthday with my ultimate gift.”
I lavish her left breast with the same attention I bestowed on her right before dragging my stubble-covered chin down her quivering stomach. My zipper digs into my cock when her vanilla scent adds to the smooth palette of her skin. She tastes as good as she smells.
When my tongue lashes the skin high on her thigh, her knees curve inward. “Noah...”
My lips lift against her skin before I suckle it into my mouth, encouraging her to open up for me. When she does, I kiss her from her thigh to her ankle. I return back to her midsection by caressing her opposite leg from her ankle to her thigh.
By the time my head is within an inch of her panties, they’re soaked through. She’s not the only one making a mess. Precum is seeping into my boxer shorts as my cock begs to be released from the tight constraints of my jeans.
His pleas will have to wait. I’ve got more urgent matters to attend to.
With my hooded gaze locked on Emily’s face, I press my lips to her panties, which are erotically exposing her arousal. A moan topples from her mouth as her hips thrust upward. I smirk, loving the effect I have on her. I honestly feel like a god when she’s panting beneath me.
Impatient to taste her again, I hook my thumb into her panties and slip them away, revealing her pretty pink pussy to my keen eyes. My veins thicken when her beautiful scent infuses the air. I could get drunk off her smell.
Her breathing labors as her light brown eyes stare down at me, wordlessly begging for me to consume her. I move close enough to her my heated breaths add to the sticky situation between her legs, but I ignore her silent demands. I’m dying to taste her again, but can’t help but tease her a little.
A grin curls on my lips when her eyes taper into tiny slits. If you want to piss Emily off, tease her. She hates it.
Her anger becomes a forgotten memory when her scent gets the better of me. As my tongue darts out to lash a pussy that tastes sweeter than honey, her back arches off my bed. A rough, indescribable moan tears from my throat when her seductive taste fills my taste buds. Her pussy is the sweetest thing I've ever eaten.
She grips my hair to hold me hostage to her pussy when I suck her clit into my mouth. Her worry is unwarranted. I have no intention of leaving until she’s screaming my name—not once, but twice.
I bring her one step closer to the brink when I slip two fingers inside of her. Even though we fool around like this a minimum three times a week, the tightness of her pussy is undeniable. As she rides my fingers with steady grinds, her pussy sucks at me. Her rolling hips match the flicks my tongue is doing to her clit. It’s a slow, teasing pace that adds to the fire forever sparking between us.
“Noah...” This cry is similar to the one she released earlier, but needier and more urgent.
I eat her with slow, lazy licks, knowing whether we’re fucking like wild animals or being gentle and sweet, the outcome never alters. She’s my girl, and I’m her man. Nothing will ever change that.
Emily’s body tightens all over as the heat I’m eating like a starved man grows musky. She stills for barely a second before the most beautiful noise shreds from her throat. Her body spasms as her orgasm rips through her with unforgiving shakes. I guide her through the darkness by slowing the grinds of my fingers and easing off on her clit.
By the time she comes down from her high, my chin is dripping with her juices, and her face is glowing. While crawling up her sweat-dotted skin, I wipe away evidence of her arousal before freeing my cock from my jeans. They’re barely huddled around my knees when my tongue spears between her parted lips at the same time my cock nudges the folds of her pussy.
We breathe as one when I rock my hips forward, sinking into her with one fluid movement. We still, the sensation unexplainable. No matter how many times we make love, the emotions attached to it never wane. It’s a blistering, heart-strangling time that makes me wonder what the fuck I ever did to deserve her.
Feeling the sentiment in the air the same as me, Emily drags her tongue along the roof of my mouth before pulling back. She peers up at me with wide, lusty eyes, but not even the width of her pupils can take away from the message hidden beneath them. She loves me, wholly and without restraint. And I love her too.
“Happy birthday, Noah.”
Happy birthday indeed. There’s no greater gift I could be given than this.
A few hours later, Emily stops tracing the outline of my tattoo. Her leap out of my bed causes a near catastrophe. One inch to the right and she would have taken off my cock. “I forgot about your present.”
She tosses her clothes back on before fumbling to the door. I’m pissed the body I spent hours admiring has been stolen from my view, but I’m also excited. Excluding Jacob, no one has given me a birthday present in years.
My excitement ramps up when Emily’s voice projects from behind my half-closed door. “Close your eyes.”
Although amused, I do as instructed. A few seconds later, I hear her tiny feet padding across the floor. “Are they closed?”
If I know Emily as well as I think I do, she’s waving her arms in the air, assuring I’m not being a spoilsport. She hates when people ruin the fun. The thought alone makes me smile.
The already brisk speed of my heart shifts into a gallop when I catch the quickest whiff of her vanilla scent. She must be close.
My instincts are proven right when coolness brushes my legs. She has rested something on my thighs. It’s not overly heavy, but it definitely weighs more than a standard gift.
“Okay, you can open them now.”
After swallowing to relieve my parched throat, I open my eyes. The first thing I see is Emily’s beautiful face. She’s beaming with so much excitement, a vein in her neck looks seconds from bursting. The second thing my eyes lock in on traps the air in my throat.
"Emily..." My near-choked response is compliments of the original sunburst vintage J-45 guitar resting in my lap. It's a replica of the guitar my dad had—the guitar stolen from me when I ran to Michael’s wreckage.
I run my hand down its perfectly crafted body, mesmerized by its craftsmanship. I've been eyeing one at my local music store the past few years, but it was too expensive for me to buy. This would have cost Emily a fortune.
I give it one final glance before locking my eyes with Emily. I hate what I’m about to do, but it must be done. “It's beautiful, but I can’t accept it.”
Emily’s smile transforms into a frown. “Why?”
“It’s too much. I appreciate the thought, but I can’t accept something so expensive.” She can barely afford to live, let alone give me a guitar worth thousands of dollars.
When tears trickle from her eyes, I set down my guitar before pulling her into my lap. I feel terrible that I’ve upset her, but she can’t afford to spend this much money on me.
"I saved for weeks so I could get you a gift I knew you'd love."
The rattle of my hands is audible in my words. “You saved that money for you, Beautiful, so you wouldn’t need to
work while attending college. I appreciate your generosity, but it’s too much. I’ll get a guitar like this one day, just not until we can afford it.”
I lift her head, my thumbs at the ready to clear her tears. Their efforts double when I murmur, “I love you, Beautiful. Just you being here is the best gift I could have received.”
I give her a gentle kiss, praying she doesn’t pull away from me. She doesn’t, but her hurt radiates in our kiss. It’s as fire-sparking as ever, just dampened by her wet cheeks. It kills me that I’ve made her cry. There’s nothing I hate more in the world than seeing her upset, but she can’t afford the gift she purchased, so it would be selfish of me to accept it.
After withdrawing from our embrace, I clear away a handful of rogue tears our kiss missed. “We’ll take it back in the morning. Because it’s in the same condition you purchased it, they’ll have no reason to refuse a refund. Okay?”
She takes so long contemplating a reply, just when I think she’ll never answer me, she nods. “Okay.”
When I walk out of the steam-filled bathroom the following morning, wrapped in a towel, Emily greets me at the door with her usual big, beautiful smile on her face. “It’s time for me to go. I love you.”
When she plants a chaste peck to my mouth, I tug her in close for a steamier embrace. The heaviness my shoulders have been carrying the past six hours lightens when she returns my kiss with as much love and tenderness as she bestowed upon me last night.
I’m glad she isn’t leaving angry. Just getting her to hand over the receipt for my guitar took a lot of persuading. She only caved a mere second before I hopped into the shower. We’re leaving at the same time this morning, just in different directions. She's going back to college, and I’m heading to the studio.
I nip at her lips until I get enough of her taste to last me until Friday before walking her to her car. “I love you too, Beautiful. Drive carefully.”
Nodding, she slips into her hideous pink car before guiding it out of Jacob’s driveway. I wait for her taillights to blur before heading back to my room to get dressed. It’s so fresh outside, it feels like my toes are about to drop off. Serves me right for standing outside in only a towel.
After throwing on my standard outfit, jeans, fitted shirt, and my leather jacket, I collect my keys from the bedside table, then grab the guitar so I can return it on my way to the studio. Unable to ignore its beauty, I run my hand down its smooth woodgrain surface for the last time. It’s nearly as beautiful as Emily when her face is flushed with ecstasy. I wish I could keep it, but that would be wrong of me to do.
I give it one last glance before packing it away in its case. Halfway there, I spot a hand-written inscription on the very bottom left-hand side.
It’s rude not to accept a gift.
I love you
Emily xx
My heart beats double-time when I scrub at the black ink, praying it will come off. It doesn’t budge an inch no matter how hard I scrub. My teeth crunch when my step back has me bumping into my bedside table. The permanent marker teetering back and forth exposes Emily's ruse. She tainted my guitar, so I couldn't refund it.
That witch! I’d kill her if I didn’t love her so much.
As a smile crosses my face, the truth smacks into me. I’m now the proud owner of a vintage 1957 Gibson J-45. Although some people might say it's less valuable since it’s been inscribed, to me, it's even more precious.
It’s my second-most valued possession. Do you know who has the top spot?
Chapter 24
Emily
Noah will kill me when he discovers I marked a rare guitar with a permanent marker, but I really wanted him to keep it, so something had to give. It's partly his fault. He let it slip that the store wouldn’t let him return it if it wasn’t in its original condition. I probably made an expensive guitar worthless, but it’ll be worth it. Just the look on his face when he spotted it justifies every penny I spent.
I’ve seen Noah eyeing a similar guitar for months. It was more expensive than the one I purchased, but the three thousand dollar price tag on his guitar already stretched my budget thin. My brother Dominic negotiated an awesome deal from a family friend. He expressed concern about me spending so much money on a gift, but when I explained to him the reason why I needed that specific guitar, he soon understood.
The day Michael died, Noah dropped his dad’s 1957 Gibson J-45 guitar to run into the street. By the time he remembered he had left it in the front yard of Marcus’s grandma’s house, it had been stolen. That was the guitar Noah’s dad taught him to play on, and it was the same guitar Noah had been teaching Michael to play. Just seeing Noah’s face when he ran his hands over the smooth wood surface made it worth working full-time at Dan’s Grocery Store during my summer break to afford it.
My eyes divert from the road when my phone beeps, announcing I’ve received a text message from Noah.
Noah: You’re naughty...But I still love you xx
I squeal in jubilation, stoked he’s keeping the present I brought him. If it weren’t for being a snoop, I wouldn’t have known yesterday was his birthday. He never mentioned the actual date he was born, and when I would ask, he'd say things like, it’s in a few months, or it’s a few weeks away; he never gave me an exact date. I knew his birthday was toward the end of the year because when we began dating, he told me his twenty-first birthday had been a few months earlier.
A couple of months ago, when my snooping nature got the best of me, I snuck a peek in his wallet. His license told me everything I need to know. He was born on the eighteenth of December, and his middle name is Gibson—now do you understand why I went to such lengths to force him to keep his gift?
While sneakily placing Noah’s license back into his wallet, I stumbled upon a ring in a compartment at the back. There were two white gold infinity symbols on each side of its thin band, and a modest diamond in the middle. It looked very much like an engagement ring, and it set my heart racing.
You have no idea how hard it’s been pretending I’m none the wiser to its existence. I’ve known since the week we started dating I want to spend the rest of my life with Noah, so discovering he felt the same way was euphoric.
After hugging the ring as if it were worth a million dollars, I slipped it back into his wallet, hoping to see it again soon. I spent the rest of my night snuggled into his side, dreaming about becoming Mrs. Emily Taylor.
It has been a few months since I discovered the ring. As far as I’m aware, it's still sitting in Noah’s wallet, gathering dust. Although I hope it gets to sparkle one day soon, I don’t want Noah to propose before he’s ready. We’re young; we’ve got plenty of time for weddings and babies.
I just need my sentimental, snooping ass to get the memo. This isn’t a Hallmark movie. It’s real life, and damn near perfect as it is, so why rush something we have years to cherish?
Chapter 25
Emily
Noah laughs while shadowing me into my childhood bedroom. “Your family is great, Emily.”
When he slips out of his jeans and slides into my bed, I grimace. It kills me knowing he’ll be half-naked and I won’t be able to touch him. It isn’t that I don’t want to feel his heated skin under my hands. I just respect my mom enough not to have sex in her house. That’s the sole reason Noah and I spent the first few days of Christmas break at Jacob’s house. I can’t be near him and not touch him—sue me.
“Slightly crazy, but great.” His laughter grows louder.
We’ve just spent Christmas Day with my family. After I let slip that Noah’s family never celebrated Christmas, Mom went all out. We had a massive feast for lunch before gathering around the tree to exchange gifts. I couldn’t stop giggling when Noah opened Lola’s gift. She bought him the tightest pair of black leather pants imaginable, explaining that modern rock stars wear leather pants— not jeans.
My laughter trapped in my throat when Noah bragged that his cock would be on display for his fans. That wiped the smile righ
t off my face and had me determined that Noah would never wear leather pants.
Well, not in public anyway.
With the gift-giving taking longer than predicted, the sun fell from the sky before any of us were ready, so instead of preparing a second feast, we ate leftovers and played board games. It was all fun and games until our night ended with charades. For some reason, I suck at that game. Keeping my big mouth shut is already asking too much—I like to talk—but when Lola can't work out what my flapping arms mean, it agitates me to no end.
My family should be banned from playing charades. Every game ends in an argument. If Noah didn't get between them, Dominic and Aiden would have damaged more than the Christmas tree.
After wrangling off my sweatpants, I slip into my bed next to Noah and snuggle into his chest. “They’re a little bit crazy, but what family isn’t it?”
While watching me spin the charm bracelet he bought me for Christmas around my wrist, he sees something on my face I didn’t mean to express. “Do you not like it?”
“I love it.”
I’m not lying. I love the bracelet—truly, I do. The clasp has my birthstone in it, and it’s crafted with the same yellow and white gold combination my other jewelry has. I’m just being silly—like every girl is when presented a jewelry box. I gave his gift too much thought while opening it. It was small and lightweight, the perfect size for an engagement ring. Although my present wasn’t quite what I was hoping, it’s still a thoughtful gift.
Leaning up, I press my lips to Noah. “I love it, thank you.”
“But...?”
“No buts, I love it.”
“Em...”
He stares at me, aware I’m lying, but having no clue I can’t tell him the truth without sounding like a selfish brat. Furthermore, I don’t want him to propose because our first Christmas together would enhance the love story I plan to bore our grandchildren with one day. I want him to ask me to be his wife because he wants to, not because he was forced.