Page 103 of Hiding from Hope

“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.

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