Wicked Beat
Page 95
She looked up, her bottom lip trembling. “I do not please you?”
He knew she wanted him to play a role, but he simply could not stand the devastated look, even if it was an act. He tucked a finger under her chin and moved in for a tender kiss. “You always please me. You are incapable of displeasing me.”
She chuckled, dropping her act. “I think you’ll need tutoring on this scenario.”
“Now?”
“Unless… Do you want to open more presents?”
He hesitated, then grinned and nodded eagerly.
“Anything you want to save for another day, you can. You have a lot of presents. Probably too many to enjoy in one day.”
He couldn’t pretend to be anything but excited. He grabbed her in an exuberant hug. “What’s next?”
“Your next present is in the kitchen. Go put on some shorts and meet me downstairs. No peeking until I join you.”
He grinned. “So you don’t want me naked for this one?”
“Not all your gifts are sexual in nature.”
“Bummer.”
“The racetrack gift certificate, for example.”
He squeezed her and rooted on her neck with loud sloppy kisses until she giggled and squirmed. “That is a f**king awesome non-sexual gift, but afterward, I’m sure I’ll be pretty worked up.”
“You can make anything sexual, Eric.”
“You’re just figuring that out?”
“Nope. I’m celebrating it.” She kissed him and squirmed out of his arms. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
She collected her tray and climbed to her feet. As soon as she was out of the room, he hurried to his bedroom to tug on a pair of shorts and took the stairs two at a time. He spotted several gift boxes in the family room on his way past and three more on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He sat at the bar and stretched his neck so he could read the tags on each box. They were all different sizes and shapes. There was one for his fifth birthday, another for his twelfth and a third for his twenty-first. He wondered if she would make him open them in order. By the time she finally joined him, wearing an old T-shirt and jeans, he was about to explode with anticipation. She smiled when he grabbed the box labeled for his fifth birthday.
“Can I open it now?”
She nodded. He didn’t know what he expected, but two boxes of hair-dye—one platinum blond, the other purple—was not it. “What’s this?”
“It’s time to get rid of this mousy brown color.”
“I do prefer you as a blonde with blue.”
“How about a blonde with purple? And I’d like to color your blue strand purple to match mine, if you’ll let me.”
He released a heavy breath. “Okay, I suppose my every forty-nine days tradition is pretty lame anyway.”
“Am I messing up something sacred?”
“Just a stupid superstition.”
“We can wait.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe it brings me luck anymore.”
“You still like changing the color though, right?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of my trademark. There are betting pools online about what my next color will be.”
“How many have their money on purple?”
He laughed. “Two little girls I met at a homeless shelter, for sure.”
Eric was surprised by how fun it was to dye each other’s hair. She let him choose where he wanted the purple to go in her hair. Instead of doing the under-layer, like she’d had it when they’d met, the purple strands framed her lovely face, and there were a few streaks in the back where he’d gotten a little carried away. Every stupid thing they did together made him feel closer to her.
He opened more presents, ranging from a book of Shakespearean limericks to a case of hot dogs for the tour bus. She’d put a lot of thought into all his gifts. There were several costumes for their bedroom games—a cheerleader, an angel, and a sexy pirate wench.
When he opened the Spider-Man costume that included two cans of silly string, he grabbed a can and chased Rebekah around the house until he eventually cornered her and sprayed his sticky web all over her.
He had personalized drumsticks, a new flask and some Cabo Wabo tequila to fill it, and a pair of handcuffs with the instructions: “for me or you, it’s your decision.” He was too overwhelmed to make any decisions at the moment. In the living room, she dropped another present in his lap and sat beside him on the sofa.
She gave his knee an encouraging squeeze as he opened the box. Inside he found a framed picture of himself and Rebekah. It was the same picture he used as his phone’s screen saver, where they were simultaneously kissing, smiling, and looking at the camera. It was his favorite picture in the world. The frame was engraved with the word family. He got a little choked up as he ran his fingertips over the lettering. Couldn’t help it.
“I love it,” he said breathlessly.
Rebekah climbed from the sofa, then took a hammer and nail from an end table. “Where are we going to hang it?”
His interior decorator would have a cow if she knew he’d hung a picture in her perfectly designed living room. They hung the picture on the wall beside a Thomas Kincaid print. Both grinned at it for a good five minutes.
“We’re going to add more soon,” she said.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. “Yeah.” He bent to nibble on her ear, now wishing he’d asked her to put on that cheerleading costume instead of saving it for a later date.
Hand splayed over his belly, she shuddered. “Go wait for me in the family room,” she said. “Sit at the piano.”
“I’m ready for some hot lovin’ now,” he said.
She winked at him. “You’ll probably get some.”
“Probably?”
She grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck and kissed him until his dick was so hard his stomach ached.
She pulled away and stared hungrily into his eyes. He stroked the purple strands of hair from her face.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she promised.
He wasn’t sure how she managed to get away. He sure as hell didn’t want her to escape. Not even for ten minutes. He knew by now that she had something sexy planned, and half the fun was imagining what it might be. With a sigh, he went to the family room and waited at the black grand piano. The piano’s lid had been lowered and several more colorful boxes were sitting there. He would never figure out how she’d managed to put this together. She had to have an accomplice. There’s no way she could have done all this by herself. They were together almost constantly.
He knew she wanted him to play a role, but he simply could not stand the devastated look, even if it was an act. He tucked a finger under her chin and moved in for a tender kiss. “You always please me. You are incapable of displeasing me.”
She chuckled, dropping her act. “I think you’ll need tutoring on this scenario.”
“Now?”
“Unless… Do you want to open more presents?”
He hesitated, then grinned and nodded eagerly.
“Anything you want to save for another day, you can. You have a lot of presents. Probably too many to enjoy in one day.”
He couldn’t pretend to be anything but excited. He grabbed her in an exuberant hug. “What’s next?”
“Your next present is in the kitchen. Go put on some shorts and meet me downstairs. No peeking until I join you.”
He grinned. “So you don’t want me naked for this one?”
“Not all your gifts are sexual in nature.”
“Bummer.”
“The racetrack gift certificate, for example.”
He squeezed her and rooted on her neck with loud sloppy kisses until she giggled and squirmed. “That is a f**king awesome non-sexual gift, but afterward, I’m sure I’ll be pretty worked up.”
“You can make anything sexual, Eric.”
“You’re just figuring that out?”
“Nope. I’m celebrating it.” She kissed him and squirmed out of his arms. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
She collected her tray and climbed to her feet. As soon as she was out of the room, he hurried to his bedroom to tug on a pair of shorts and took the stairs two at a time. He spotted several gift boxes in the family room on his way past and three more on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He sat at the bar and stretched his neck so he could read the tags on each box. They were all different sizes and shapes. There was one for his fifth birthday, another for his twelfth and a third for his twenty-first. He wondered if she would make him open them in order. By the time she finally joined him, wearing an old T-shirt and jeans, he was about to explode with anticipation. She smiled when he grabbed the box labeled for his fifth birthday.
“Can I open it now?”
She nodded. He didn’t know what he expected, but two boxes of hair-dye—one platinum blond, the other purple—was not it. “What’s this?”
“It’s time to get rid of this mousy brown color.”
“I do prefer you as a blonde with blue.”
“How about a blonde with purple? And I’d like to color your blue strand purple to match mine, if you’ll let me.”
He released a heavy breath. “Okay, I suppose my every forty-nine days tradition is pretty lame anyway.”
“Am I messing up something sacred?”
“Just a stupid superstition.”
“We can wait.”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe it brings me luck anymore.”
“You still like changing the color though, right?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of my trademark. There are betting pools online about what my next color will be.”
“How many have their money on purple?”
He laughed. “Two little girls I met at a homeless shelter, for sure.”
Eric was surprised by how fun it was to dye each other’s hair. She let him choose where he wanted the purple to go in her hair. Instead of doing the under-layer, like she’d had it when they’d met, the purple strands framed her lovely face, and there were a few streaks in the back where he’d gotten a little carried away. Every stupid thing they did together made him feel closer to her.
He opened more presents, ranging from a book of Shakespearean limericks to a case of hot dogs for the tour bus. She’d put a lot of thought into all his gifts. There were several costumes for their bedroom games—a cheerleader, an angel, and a sexy pirate wench.
When he opened the Spider-Man costume that included two cans of silly string, he grabbed a can and chased Rebekah around the house until he eventually cornered her and sprayed his sticky web all over her.
He had personalized drumsticks, a new flask and some Cabo Wabo tequila to fill it, and a pair of handcuffs with the instructions: “for me or you, it’s your decision.” He was too overwhelmed to make any decisions at the moment. In the living room, she dropped another present in his lap and sat beside him on the sofa.
She gave his knee an encouraging squeeze as he opened the box. Inside he found a framed picture of himself and Rebekah. It was the same picture he used as his phone’s screen saver, where they were simultaneously kissing, smiling, and looking at the camera. It was his favorite picture in the world. The frame was engraved with the word family. He got a little choked up as he ran his fingertips over the lettering. Couldn’t help it.
“I love it,” he said breathlessly.
Rebekah climbed from the sofa, then took a hammer and nail from an end table. “Where are we going to hang it?”
His interior decorator would have a cow if she knew he’d hung a picture in her perfectly designed living room. They hung the picture on the wall beside a Thomas Kincaid print. Both grinned at it for a good five minutes.
“We’re going to add more soon,” she said.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her against his side. “Yeah.” He bent to nibble on her ear, now wishing he’d asked her to put on that cheerleading costume instead of saving it for a later date.
Hand splayed over his belly, she shuddered. “Go wait for me in the family room,” she said. “Sit at the piano.”
“I’m ready for some hot lovin’ now,” he said.
She winked at him. “You’ll probably get some.”
“Probably?”
She grabbed him by the hair at the nape of his neck and kissed him until his dick was so hard his stomach ached.
She pulled away and stared hungrily into his eyes. He stroked the purple strands of hair from her face.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she promised.
He wasn’t sure how she managed to get away. He sure as hell didn’t want her to escape. Not even for ten minutes. He knew by now that she had something sexy planned, and half the fun was imagining what it might be. With a sigh, he went to the family room and waited at the black grand piano. The piano’s lid had been lowered and several more colorful boxes were sitting there. He would never figure out how she’d managed to put this together. She had to have an accomplice. There’s no way she could have done all this by herself. They were together almost constantly.
