Page 84 of Under the Texas Sky
“No! You are not returning this.” His eyes drop back to the bracelet resting in the fancy blue box, the gold band with subtle carats of emeralds spread out across it. I imagined the clink they would make whenever he waves or does anything… else with his hands.
The flowers and his favorite chocolates are forgotten while he pulls the bracelet out of the holder with delicate fingers. “Put it on me,” he demands, and then amends the statement. “Please, please put it on me.”
How can I say no to him when he looks so perfect?
“Why emeralds?” he asks when I get the hook clasped and double check to make sure it’s secured. It would be my luck if he lost a thousand dollar bracelet, and I would have to replace it too, because I can already picture how heartbroken he would be
“They remind me of your eyes.”
Said eyes widen, and then promptly narrow. “You didn’t need to waste your money on this. I would have been fine with a cheap bracelet from the store.”
I know he doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude, but that’s how I take it. How can I force him to understand that it’s not a waste as long as I spend the money onhim.I want him to have access to the best things. The best clothes, cameras, photography equipment, jewelry, everything. I need him to have expensive, over the top things now, because I can provide them. I owe him for all the times I’ve let him down in the past.
“Wait, Trent, I didn’t mean it like that…” He draws off, and I wait for him to say something else.
“Truth?” I ask, when he takes too long to finish his sentence.
Heaving a deep breath, he says, “I love it. This is the best and most thoughtful gift. I love it so freaking much.” He chuckles, and it sounds like he’s trying to hold back tears.
I open my arms and he steps into them. Resting his head in the crook of my neck, I feel the neckline of my shirt getting damp. I comb my fingers through his curls, messing them up, but I don’t care. All I care about is soothing him and fixing whatever makes him upset.
“It’s just… too much,” he continues. “I know how much this thing costs, and I don’t know how much money you make. I don’t want you to throw away the money you work hard for onme. You’ve always done so much for me, and even now you go above and beyond.”
It’s my turn to get choked up, knowing that we’re both coming into this with issues from our past, but we’ll work through it. Together.
“It’s my turn to be honest…”
He turns his head enough to where he can press his lips against the skin of my neck. Peppering kisses against my pulse point.
“I’ve had this bracelet for a while,” I tell him. “I bought it for your birthday after you left. I took a loan out, and at the time, I felt reckless. But the longer I stared at it, the more I decided that you deserved it. You deserve precious jewelry. If I could, I would buy every single precious gem on the planet and cover you in them.”
“I don’t need that, though, Trent. All I need is you. All I’ve ever needed is you.”
I turn my head toward him, and our lips meet in a soft, sensual kiss. We’re not in a rush, because we have the rest of our lives together.
CHAPTER 67
KIAN
I tried to talk Trent into coming back up to my hotel room, or going to his house. I’m needy for him right now, and I don’t care how desperate that makes me. I even scope out the back seat of his truck to see if it has enough space for us to both be back there in horizontal positions.
“Eyes facing front, Ki. You are not getting fucked in my back seat.”
His gruff tone does things to my libido, and my dick pulses in my pants in response. I groan out loud. He rests his hand on my upper thigh, not close enough to be indecent, but close enough to torture me with the thought of his hand on me in other places.
“Please, Trent. You can’t give me expensive gifts and expect me to not want to suck your dick.” That’s a good idea, actually. A great idea. I’m pretty sure every guy would love road head, and the idea of putting myself in a vulnerable position and completely at Trent’s mercy has my pulse throbbing.
“If you’re not good now, you can’t have the other presents I got you.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “More? You got me more?”
“Some were bought, some were things I wrote to you.” Trent’s face flushes bright pink, and the sunset fading in the background behind his head makes happiness bubble inside of me.
“Wrote? Like poetry?”
He shakes his head, and I’m dumb-founded for a minute because Trent used to love writing poetry, and leaving notes all around our apartment.
“Truth,” I demand, throwing his word back at him.
