Torn Hearts

Chapter Three.

            He reached for my hand and kissed the back of it. “Are you having fun?”

            “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

            “Good because I have an entire weekend of fun planned.”

            “Does it involve you and me naked on a bed?”

            His nostrils flared as he pulled out of the parking lot. He brought my hand up to his mouth and grazed his teeth along the tips of my fingers. “And the kitchen table. And the floor. And the shower. And the beach. The possibilities are endless, really.”

            My insides tightened.

            “You want that?” he asked, his voice low.

            “I want that,” I replied in a whisper.

            “I want to peel that dress off of you slowly, kissing every inch of bare skin as it falls off.” He smiled when he saw my face flush. “Then I’m going to lay you down on the kitchen counter and lick my way down your body until your legs are trembling with need.” He paused to lick my wrist. “Then,” he said, as he parked the car in front of his place, his voice a raspy whisper against my ear. “I’m going to lick your pussy from one side to the other and bite your lips the way you like.”

            “Jensen,” I said, pulling away from him. I was on fire. “Let’s go inside.”

            He put his hand on my thigh and moved it slowly until he reached my already damp thong. “I’m going to take my time with you, baby,” he whispered, bringing his mouth up to mine as he hooked a finger underneath my underwear to stroke me. “I’m going to make you beg for me to fuck you.”

            “I’m willing to beg,” I said against his lips. “I’ll beg right now.”

            I felt him smile. “I’m crazy about you, Mia Bennett.”

            “Likewise, Jensen Reynolds.” I kissed his lips lightly. “Now can we please go inside so you can make good on your promise?”

            He chuckled. “So impatient.”

            Once we were inside Jensen asked me to wait for him in the kitchen so that he could get my present. We’d said no presents. We shared a birthday so presents were exchanged the other day, but I couldn’t help buying him something for the occasion and evidently he felt the same. I ran my fingers over the bracelet he gave me the other day, and smiled as I examined each charm— the number 31, for our birthdate. The camera, the feather pen, the anchor, the sailboat, the heart that read, “I’m yours.”

            I dropped my hand onto my lap when I notice him walk out of the room with a large box in his hands. He smiled as he set it down on the counter and stood behind me, wrapping his arms around me.

            “Open it,” he said.

            I picked up the top of the box to reveal a smaller box. I frowned as I took that one out. It was wrapped in a brown paper filled with words. Normally I would have torn it right up, but something about it made me stall. My breath caught in my throat when I realized it was his handwriting. I turned slightly to look at him over my shoulder.

            “It’s just wrapping paper, Mia,” he said with a tender smile.

            I looked at the box again and examined it, trying to read what it said. “Are these your words?”