I gasp. The smile on my face has just reached maximum size.
“Your dad sent me the picture,” he says, looking shy. I love shy Jake. “The other is from the after show party in Sweden.”
Printed inside the locket are two pictures of Jake and I. One from when we were toddlers. We must be three years old max, and the other is from the after show party in Sweden like he said.
Overcome with emotion, I launch myself at him. Kissing him hard and passionately on the mouth, knotting my fingers into his hair, holding him to me. Jake kisses me back as equally passionate, his hand cupped around the back of my neck, holding me to him, his tongue roaming my mouth, moving with mine.
“So you like it then?” he whispers into my mouth as our kissing slows.
“I love it, and I love you.”
“Birthday present number three,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back off my face.
“I’m still yet to get you anything.”
“I got all my twelve the moment you agreed to be mine.”
“Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic, Jake Wethers.” Smiling, I trace my fingertip over his lips. The light bruise from his fight with Will still evident there.
It’s crazy to believe that was only yesterday morning. It feels like we’ve done so much together since then.
“Only with you I am. And I’m also horny twenty-four-seven.” He runs his hand up my thigh, pushing the hem of my dress up with his fingers.
“Again?” I say.
“Always.”
“Well we’re not doing it here, in the car on the street, Pervy Perverson.”
“Pervy Perverson?” Jake splutters out a laugh.
“Friends – you never watched?” I say at his puzzled expression.
“No, dork, I was too busy touring and earning a living, while you were bumming around at uni watching soaps.”
“Shut your face, and put my necklace on PP,” I grin at him.
Jake holds his hand out for the necklace, so I place it in his palm.
I turn away from him, moving my long hair away from my neck.
Jake places the cool metal around my neck, and catches the fastener at the back. His hands linger on my shoulders, and then I feel the touch of his warm lips on the nape of my neck.
It sends shivers running down my spine.
I reach my hand back, touching his thigh, and lean myself into him.
He smells and feels amazing, and a heat starts to rise in my body, pooling in my belly. And now I’m turned on.
I start to inch my fingers up his thigh.
Jake catches hold of my hand. “We’re not doing it here, MP.”
“MP?” I turn, looking at him puzzled.
“Mrs Perverson,” he smirks, then leaving me cold, he starts the car, puts his belt on and pulls out into the road.
Mrs? Hmm… I’m liking the sound of that.
Mrs. Trudy Wethers.
Has quite a ring to it if you ask me. Not now of course. But then Jake’s not exactly the marrying kind is he.
The thought makes me feel a little sad.
“Where to now?” I ask, ignoring my own crashing wedding bells, and instead try to poker some info out of him.
“Now it’s time birthday present number four.”
Jake pulls the car up on the main road, a stretch away from the Eiffel Tour. It is a little busier around here of course. Tourists are all around.
Out of my window, I see a young guy waiting by the roadside, and I instantly know he’s here waiting for us.
“Come on, baby,” Jake says climbing out of the car.
By the time I’m out of the car, the star-struck young guy is taking the car keys from Jake and is walking around to the driver’s side with a huge smile on his face.
“You didn’t just give the car to a random stranger did you?” I ask, smirking.
“No,” he chuckles, gently swotting my behind with his hand. “He works for the place we’re going to. He’s going to go park the car for us … he’ll probably joy ride it first – can't say I blame him because I would if I was him – but as long as it’s back for when we need it, I’m cool.”
“Aww, you’re so sweet, baby, letting the teenager go for a joyride in the hire car.” I nudge him with my hip. “And you’re also silly, romantic, and looking very hot tonight.”
“Yeah?” He turns to me, that lusty Jake fire in his eyes again. “And you’re beautiful and insanely sexy, and right now I want to peel that dress off you and do dirty things to you right here and now in the street, but I think we might get arrested if I do.”
I press my legs together, trying to control the tremble in them he’s just created with his words.
“Later?”
“Oh, most definitely,” he nods. “Now come on, beautiful, let’s get moving before I starting getting stopped for autographs.” He does a quick, comical glance around, then holds his arm out for me to take.
I link my arm through his, boxing up my sudden urges for later, and we start to walk down the Parisian street together just like any other normal couple, heading in the direction of the Eiffel Tower.