She shot me an expression I couldn’t decipher. Her lips were tipped up like she was happy, but her brow furrowed. I’d never minded everything that came with being Italian—the big family, the constant ribbing, the carbs—but she might.
She took my hand and walked to the door. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ve been a good girl all night. I deserve a reward.”
“I have a present for you.” I strode ahead of her to open the door. “It’s in my apartment.”
She breezed through it into the vestibule and pulled out her key to unlock the door to the residents’ stairs. “You mean it will be, when you dick me down in your bed.”
I let out a short, shocked laugh. She always managed to surprise me. “No. I have an actual gift. In a gift bag.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Sure you do.” Then she turned and walked up the stairs, giving me a glorious view of the curve of her ass in that swingy dress. My hard-on had eased while I was talking to Andrew, but now it raged back. After adjusting myself so I could walk, I followed her up.
Inside my apartment, I snatched the shiny red gift bag from my kitchen table. “Happy birthday, Lucie,” I said, not at all smugly. Okay, I was super-smug about it.
She stared at it. “You seriously got me a gift? I didn’t get you a gift on your birthday.”
“You brought wine,” I said. “And coming to dinner was a gift.”
“You didn’t even drink the wine. Damn it, Danny.” She jammed her hand into the bag and pulled out a wad of tissue paper. She peered inside. “A notebook. And a pen.”
I shoved a hand through my hair, but I forgot I’d put it in a bun. My fingers tangled and stuck. “I’m sorry it’s not much. I’m saving everything I can for the bar.”
“Danny.” When she looked up, her eyes glistened. Were those…tears? “This is exactly the kind of notebook I use in my favorite color, black, which, by the way, is hard to find. And you got me the fancy pen I don’t like to buy because it costs three dollars more than the next-best one. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But are you okay?” I’d never seen her cry before, not even when she told me about the pregnancy.
“I’m fine. In fact, I’m really happy. It’s these stupid hormones.” She set the gift on my table and stepped closer. “Now I want the other part of my gift.”
I’d kissed her on my birthday, but that was two months ago. She was a different shape now, her belly rounded and firm between us. But I was determined to make this good. I leaned forward and curled my arms around her back. An inch from her lips, I murmured, “Is this okay?”
She grabbed my head. “Kiss me, and it’ll be better than okay.” She tugged me down until our lips met.
Her lips were as lush as I remembered. When I ran my tongue across her lower lip, I tasted the blueberry syrup from her favorite mocktail. She opened to me and slid her tongue along mine, lighting up every nerve in my body.
“Mmm,” she purred. “You taste like beer.”
“Sorry.” I kissed along her jaw to her ear. “I meant to stick to nonalcoholic like you, but my brothers kept bringing me pints, so I drank a couple.”
“I don’t mind.” She yanked at the elastic in my hair. The tug on my roots hurt, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that danced down my spine. “I miss it. Next time, drink a whiskey so I can have a little taste.”
I stroked my hands down her back to the curve of her ass. I liked the sound ofnext time.Meanwhile, she’d worked the elastic out of my hair, and the release of the steady tug on my roots was an almost sexual relief. She trailed her fingers along my scalp, then combed through the strands.
“I love your hair,” she said.
Goose bumps erupted on my forearms. I knew she hadn’t said she lovedme,but my dumbass heart said it was close enough. I buried my face in her neck so she wouldn’t see my goofy expression. Between kisses on her golden skin, I said, “You could pull it later.”
She gave an experimental tug. “You don’t mind?”
My dick strained in my jeans. “God, no.”
“Noted,” she said, tugging again.
“That’s it.” I curled my hands under her thighs to lift her. “Time for your other present.”
She squealed and clutched my neck as I carried her to the couch and set her down. I untied her boots and pulled them off, setting them to the side. Then I pulled off her socks and set them inside one of her boots. Kneeling between her legs, I put my hands on her knees and slowly slid them up her thighs and under her skirt. “This okay?”
“Danny.” Her eyes blazed. “I hereby give you blanket permission to touch every part of me with the aim of making me come on my birthday. Got it?”
“You don’t have to be sassy about it.” I grabbed her panties and yanked them off. I reached for the hem of her skirt to lift it, but she put a hand on mine.