Page 22 of If You Never Come Back
The sound of Wes’s keys jingling in the door snaps me out of my reminiscing session. I have to be on top of my game if I want to squeeze in everything I have planned before his surprise party.
I tie a length of red streamer across my chest, the bow resting at my cleavage. When I walk out of the bathroom door, Wes’s brows jump up in shock. He scrunches up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. He had meetings with clients all day, otherwise he’d be dressed in my favorite outfit of ripped jeans and a tattered, soaked-with-sweat t-shirt. But whether he’s dressing for his project manager role or moonlighting as a laborer whenever a worksite is short-handed, he always looks good enough to eat.
A slow smile crawls across his face as he ruffles his thick, dark hair with a hand.
“Happy birthday, baby.” I wink at him.
He walks toward me in slow, steady steps. “I thought my birthday treat was what you gave me this morning.” He runs an index finger along the red bow. “I get this, too?”
I nod, then bump his nose with the tip of mine. His eyes flash.
“Pancakes and a blowjob are birthdaymorningactivities,” I say. “There are plenty of evening activities in store for you, too.”
He doesn’t bother to loosen the ribbon. He simply rips it off with one hand while the other holds my waist. My breath catches at the carnal gesture.
With his body pressed against mine, he walks me across the apartment until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I fall on my back as he drops to his knees.
“I need you,” he rasps. “Now.”
It’s a command more than anything else. His voice is rough, his eyes are wild, and his hands are at the hem of my panties, yanking them down.
I’m panting before his mouth makes it to my skin. At this point in our relationship, just the anticipation of his mouth on me has me on the verge.
He kisses up my thighs, softly scraping his teeth along the way. I shiver and gasp at once.
“Best birthday ever,” he groans.
* * *
“Shay, you’ve done enough.”
Wes clutches my hand as we make our way along the sidewalk toward Dandy Lime.
I grin as we wait at the crosswalk for the light to change. “I told you, I’m taking you out to dinner tonight and that’s it. I just have to stop by at Remy’s to pick up my sunglasses.”
It’s a flimsy lie, but it’s the best I could come up with after spending weeks secretly planning Wes’s surprise birthday party.
Sunlight peeks from behind the skyscrapers that surround us. My heart races wondering if Wes will love or hate the kid-themed party I planned for him. When I asked what he wanted to do for his birthday weeks ago, he said all he wanted was a night spent with me. Beyond sweet, but I wanted to do something special for him.
When we round the corner to Remy’s, I notice the black screen shades are drawn over the windows. Smart touch. That way Wes won’t notice that there’s literally no one in the bar, which would be highly unusual for seven o’clock in the evening.
When I open the door, it’s dead quiet. All the lights are off, which makes it impossible to see the decorations.
“That’s weird,” Wes says. “It’s never this dead.”
Just then the lights turn on. Remy, Colin, and the rest of Wes’s friends jump from behind the bar and yell, “Surprise!” in unison.
I spin to Wes, who sports wide eyes and a fallen jaw. A beat later when everyone is cheering and clapping, he beams. It’s the widest, toothiest grin I’ve ever seen him flash. I love it more than anything.
“I can’t believe…” he drifts off, his head whipping back and forth as he scans the bar.
There’s a piñata hanging in one corner and pin the tail on the donkey in another. One end of the bar has been cleared for a makeshift sack race. A ping-pong table topped with red solo cups rests near the hallway by the bathrooms, ready for a game of beer pong.
He turns to me, his eyes glistening. I fight the lump in my throat as he pulls in for a hug, his lips pressed against my forehead.
“So sneaky,” he whispers.
“Sorry, I had to.”
