As she’s fumbling through her purse, she pulls out a small black bag. Pointing to the valet’s temporary holding spaces she asks, “Can you pull over there a second?”
Glancing over at her in that dress that leaves little to the imagination, I reach for her hand and grin. “Sure baby. But can’t you wait until we get home?” I can’t help but laugh to myself over my own wit.
She playfully slaps my hand away and doesn’t let me grab hold of hers. “River, just pull over.”
“Okay beautiful girl, your call,” I say, winking at her while I continue with the game, thinking she wants me now.
I put the car in park and turn to fully face her. She looks like a knockout in that short strapless black number. The dress exposes so much of her soft skin, it’s just calling for me to lick it and the bottom is so short, it’s just screaming for me to run my fingers under it. What’s really killing me are those thigh high boots, they made me hard the minute I saw her. Honestly, I’m having a hard time keeping my shit together around her tonight. I really should’ve just taken her into the bathroom, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and I want to make it romantic.
I’ve never spent one of these heart filled days with someone I really cared about, so this is all new to me. My sister suggested taking Dahlia to a nice hotel for the night, so that’s what I’m doing. I actually made a reservation at the Beverly Wilshire last month. The suites were all taken, but I was able to book a room.
She touches her pearls for a minute while the black bag rests on her lap. She seems pretty happy. Then with that seductive smile she wears that could thaw the artic, she says, “Close your eyes, and hold your hands out.”
I swallow and nod, squeezing my eyes shut and holding my hands palms up over the console. As I do I can feel cool metal objects being carefully placed into them.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, River.”
Opening my eyes, I see six metal guitar picks, all uniquely engraved. I scan each one before looking up at her. My smile must be wider than any dam ever built to stop a flood.
Inhaling deeply, I transfer all of them into one hand and hold up the one that reads, ‘I Love You’. I stare at her with amazement and wonder. “I love you,” I whisper while trying to rein in my emotions. I lean over and kiss her, slipping my tongue in her mouth because I want to taste her so badly. I squeeze my palm shut so I won’t drop any of the picks and grab her with my free hand. I run my hand through her soft hair and over the smooth bare skin of neck and shoulders.
She giggles her cute laugh and pulls away, breathing just as hard as I am. “I love you more.”
Shaking my head in disagreement, I decide not to engage in our little who loves who more game because I know I’ll win. I love this girl more than anybody has ever loved anyone. Instead, I just look at her as she moves her hand to my tightly closed palm.
She begins to pull my fingers open, one at a time, exposing the scribed picks. She takes all the picks out of my hand, leaving the ‘I Love You’ one in my palm. Selecting one guitar tab at a time, she says each engraving to me as if she’s whispering sweet nothings.
“Hold Me,” she whispers, running her fingertips over the words before gently placing it in my hand with the ‘I Love You’ pick. Then she whispers, “Touch Me,” while placing it in my hand with the other two. She continues to whisper “Kiss Me,” and “Love Me,” as she does the same thing. Finally, she giggles through her words as she says, “And this is my favorite, ‘Loverboy’.”
Once all six gifts are safely in my hand she opens the bag for me to pour them back in. Before I do, I take the ‘Touch Me’ one. I shake the other five in the bag.
Grinning and stretching my legs out, I lift my hips off the seat and stick that one in my front pocket as she looks at me quizzically.
“What? I’m saving it for later. You know, in case I want to cash it in.”