Page 38 of Stolen Moments

I’m nervous about tonight. It’s been years since I’ve had a date on Valentine’s Day. When our schedules didn’t line up until this weekend, I didn’t even hesitate to ask her to be my Valentine.

Since the moment I saw Emery’s reflection, I’ve been captivated by her. Our texts and calls have only made the pull stronger. She’s fucking amazing. I look forward to getting her messages with random questions. I count down the hours until I can hear her voice over the line or see her beautiful face on video chat. I fall asleep every night and wake up every morning thinking about her.

Without even trying, she’s consumed me.

Fifteen minutes before I’m supposed to meet Emery, I’m dressed and ready to go. I opted for my charcoal suit, a black button-up dress shirt, and a maroon tie. I want tonight to be special for us, which is why I chose the restaurant offering a special Valentine’s menu for dinner.

I grab the single long-stem rose I set aside on the table for Emery and look around the room. Everything is set up perfectly. I hope she joins me after dinner to see it.

I make my way to the elevators and head down to the restaurant bar. I originally planned on renting a car and picking her up, but the plane delays ruined my plan.

Emery has no idea I’m staying here, and I don’t want her to know. The last thing I want her thinking is that I’m trying to get her into bed.

Do I want her there?Hell fucking yes.

I want to run my hands over every square inch of her body and memorize every freckle, every moan, every cry of pleasure that escapes her as I bury myself inside her.

All. Night. Long.

My cock grows thick in my slacks at thoughts of Emery beneath me. Discreetly adjusting myself, I step out of the elevator and walk through the lobby. I remind my dick to cool it. I want more than just sex with her.

For the first time in years, I can see a future with someone. With Emery, I know this is more than just a good time, a stop on the road. She already means more to me than I can explain. I want her to feel the same way. My goal this weekend is to not only tell her how I feel but to show her too. I want her to take a chance on me. On us. Hence the room decor waiting for her.

Taking a seat at the bar, I order both of us a drink. Gin and soda for me, and an Aperol Spritz for her. I chuckle to myself, remembering how I shocked the hell out of her with that little bit of knowledge.

That fucking bartender. I can’t believe he was right. I shake my head and take a sip of my drink.

The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, bringing my eyes up to the mirror behind the bar.

Like the first time I saw her, Emery stands at the entrance of the restaurant, face down towards the cell phone in her hands. She’s wearing a burgundy cocktail dress that cups her breasts perfectly and flares at her hips. Her light caramel hair lays in soft curls that hang right above her waist. She looks absolutely stunning.

My pocket buzzes, and I know it’s her. I don’t bother reaching for it as I turn around on the stool and watch her. She must feel my gaze because her head snaps up, and her eyes connect with mine.

Everything clicks into place, and my chest feels lighter as I watch a radiant smile pull at the plump burgundy lips I dream about, and spread across her face. While I’ve seen that smile on my phone screen, it’s nothing compared to seeing it in person.

I stand—my heart pounding in my chest—and like a moth to the flame, I make my way to her. I close the distance between us in quick long strides, sweeping her into my arms and crushing my mouth to hers in a searing kiss.

Her hands find my hair, and I’m about to pick her up and carry her upstairs when I hear a throat clearing. I break the kiss and stare down at the girl that’s captured me by surprise. Swiping my thumb across her bee-stung lips, her lipstick mostly intact, I admire how wet and swollen they are from our kiss. Her cheeks are tinged pink as her chest heaves.

She’s never looked more beautiful.

“Hi,” I mumble into her mouth, stealing another quick peck.

“Hi,” she whispers, her breath fanning across my lips. Her eyes dart over my shoulder to where the hostess is surely watching, and she giggles. “That was some greeting.”

I can’t help but chuckle at how sweet it sounds and how good it feels to hold her. “What can I say? I missed you.”

And that’s the fucking truth. These past few weeks getting to know Emery have been some of the best I’ve ever had, but I want more. All the texts and calls aren’t enough anymore. The sexy phone call we shared only multiplied my need to see her. To touch her.

I thought the way she made me feel was all a dream. Something I conjured up to help me get by, but that’s not the case at all. She is very real. As are the feelings I’ve developed for her.

For the first time in a long time, I’ve let myself begin to fall for someone that I can see a future with. That should scare me since we’ve only been on two dates weeks ago, but with her here in my arms, it feels so right. She feels right.

“I missedyou too, Mason.”

At her confession, I pull her closer, hugging her to my body, relieved that she’s finally in my arms. I kiss the top of her head and breathe in her intoxicating vanilla pear scent.

“I ordered us a few cocktails while we wait for our table.” With my hand on her lower back, I lead her to the bar, where our drinks sit waiting for us.

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