Page 90 of Under the Texas Sky
I nod, quirking my brow because he brought me to the park to give me his journal?
“Well, I realized I couldn’t just give you a journal. I decided you needed something better. Something that was all yours, and something you could look at whenever you wanted and know that my love for you is endless.”
“Wouldn't I get that from the journal?” Confusion laces my tone, because I have no idea where he’s going with this. Unless, in the journal, he also writes about how much he hates me, and he’s using another gift to make up for how sad I’ll be when I read it.
“Yes, you would also get that from the journal… But I wanted something more.” He gestures to the black box, way too big to hold just a journal. “Open it, Ki,” he says.
I hesitate, my fingers slowly reaching toward it like I imagine bomb techs do when they see something suspicious. Trent doesn’t rush me, just watches as I pull the box toward me and peel off the lid.
Once I see what’s inside, my jaw drops. I don’t make a remark but the only thought flitting through my mind is that it’s way too expensive. Way, way too expensive of a gift.
“Well?” Trent asks, while I hold the camera in my hand.
The Nikon Z8. An expensive camera, but it’s supposed to be one of the best on the market for landscape photography. Tears that I can’t stop stream down my face. It’s not the gift that has me crying. Not the cost or whatever the heck else. But the thought that went into it. He sat in that coffee shop, listening to me talk about photography, and went out and found the best one for what I wanted to do.
“Why are you so good to me?” I ask him, my voice cracking and shattering with every word tore out of my chest.
“Because, Kian. You deserve the best.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs, cradling my face in his hands. I turn my head to press a kiss against his palm. “That’s not all, though.”
I cough out a laugh, because how could he top this?
“I’ll give you a minute to get it out, and get the settings all figured out, but there’s one last thing to show you,” he says.
Trent watches me while I flip the dials and check the lighting. It’s perfect.
I jump off the tailgate and grab his hand. “Show me whatever you think it is that can top this gift.” Because I doubt anything will be better than this.
We cut across through the line of trees and into the clearing in the park where I first watched Trent, and where our love story truly began. I sneak pictures of him when he’s not looking, catching his side profile and the thick stubble that is growing on his cheeks.
Stepping on twigs and hearing them crunch underneath our shoes, I keep my eyes on the ground so I don’t trip over anything when we get closer to the clearing. That would be my luck to trip and fall and break an ankle, embarrassing myself and ruining whatever surprise it is that Trent has planned for me.
“Surprise,” he says, pulling me into his side and staring at the open clearing.
“Uhm–It looks great,” I offer, not sure what I’m looking at.
“I would hope so since it was a little pricey. I just thought you’d be more excited, he remarks.
I stare at him, flabbergasted. “Pricey?”
“Pricey,” he confirms, nodding his head toward the sign that is situated right along the treeline. Where it used to sayDupont Park,it now saysKian B. Smith Park.
“You bought me… a park?”
“Technically, I donated money to the park foundation, and they let me rename it. But yes, this park is yours.”
I tackle him, dropping my shoulder and taking him to the ground. With an oomph, I land on top of him. Staring into those brown eyes I love so much and that I will love until the day I die.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” I kiss him everywhere. On his forehead, where there’s a slight crease forming from how often he furrows his brows. A kiss on each eyelid, protecting those chocolate irises from the harshness of the world. Each cheek, covered with his dark stubble that slightly bites at my lips, but that’s okay. The tip of his nose. His lips. His chin. Every part of him deserves to be worshiped by me.
"I need you to fuck me. Here. Now,” I demand, grinding our lower halves together and nipping at the sensitive skin of his neck covering his jugular.
“Ki. We’re in public.” He sounds so scandalized, but his hips meeting my thrusts are telling a different story. He’s into it, no matter what he tries to say.
“Don’t care. I need you too badly. There’s no one around,” I reason, pulling his shirt down to bite down on his clavicles, and then soothe the spot with a soft lick.
“What if–”
I cut him off, pushing myself down to where my head is level with the hard length in his pants. “I’m going to take you out of your pants and suck you until you’re about to come. And then, when you’re begging and pleading with me to let you come, I’m going to put your dick in my ass and ride you. ‘Kay?”
