Page 65 of Texting My 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 thecheek just to see her smile, then hand her the wrapped picture frame.

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