Page 6 of Birthday Kisses

“You’re staring, Crew.” Her voice is teasing. Light. Reminding me of our past interactions when I’d get too caught up in her beauty and stare at her like a fool.

“You look good enough to eat, Birdy.” My gaze is still on her legs, and I finally drag it upward until I’m staring at her face. Into her eyes.

She looks stunning. The dress brings out the green of her eyes and she’s wearing makeup that emphasizes her beauty without overpowering it. Her long, brown hair is glossy, the ends wavy, and the smile she’s wearing is bright.

Happy.

“Thank you.” She opens the door wider and steps aside. “Come in and check out the room. It’s beautiful.”

I enter the room and shove the door shut just before I pounce. My hands are on her waist and I press her against the wall, holding her there as I crowd her, my mouth seeking hers.

I don’t give a damn about the room. All I care about is her.

Wren opens to me easily, and a low groan sounds deep in my chest. I wasn’t lying when I said she looked good enough to eat. It’s been a while since we’ve done this and I’m starved for her.

Ravenous.

We kiss for long minutes, tongues tangling, breaths catching, my hands wandering all over her lush curves. She finally pushes at my chest, my hand under her skirt, fingers skimming across her ass, and I pull away slightly, frowning at her.

“Why’d you make me stop?”

“We have dinner reservations.” She touches the corner of her lips. “And you messed up my lipstick.”

I grin. “I know where you can get four hundred more, don’t forget.”

She shoves at my chest playfully, and I step back, the grin still on my face. “I will never go through all of those lipsticks, Crew.”

I sent her all the shades Chanel carries years ago, when we first fell in love. I had it so bad for that girl, and I still do. The woman she’s become is just it for me. She is my favorite person in the entire world.

Well, and now our daughter too, of course.

I change into a new outfit while Wren watches me from where she’s standing in front of the mirror, her lips parted, a lipstick in hand. Her gaze warms when I whip out of my shirt, her lips forming into a pout when I slip on a charcoal gray sweater.

“You’ll get more of this later,” I tell her, her cheeks turning crimson at my comment.

That I can still make her blush—I love it.

I love her.

More than life itself.

Once we’re both ready, we take the car to the restaurant where Grant reserved a table for us. The place is busy, the décor dark yet inviting, and we’re seated at a table almost dead center in the restaurant, where everyone can see us. Men stare at Wren as we walk by their tables and I send each of them a deathly glare, causing them to quickly look away.

I like showing off my wife, but I don’t need a bunch of assholes drooling over her.

Only I can do that.

The moment we’re seated, Wren leans in close, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I didn’t even get a chance to tell you about my afternoon.”

Maybe that’s because I had my tongue down her throat the entirety of the drive over. My fingers in her hair, her hand resting on my insistent cock. Like she was reminding it that she’s here and she’s going to take care of everything later.

I don’t give a damn about eating at the moment. This could be a Michelin star, top-notch experience and I couldn’t be bothered with any of it. I just want to get my girl back into that sexy hotel room with the lit candles everywhere, and fuck her nice and slow until she’s screaming my name.

Sounds like the perfect way to end our day.

Instead, I indulge her, asking, “What did you do this afternoon?”

“I went to Bergdorfs. Alyssa made me an appointment, and I got a trim and the stylist gave me a blow out, plus she curled the ends. My hair feels so bouncy.”

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