Drop Dead Gorgeous(110)

“I got you something,” I tell Zoey seriously. This isn’t a gift in the dictionary sense of the word. It’s not a token given freely with no expectation of reciprocity. Oh, no, I expect something in return. I expect Zoey to wear my gift every day.

“You did?” Zoey’s eyes light up, and I pull the box out of my jacket pocket and set it on the table. Her breath catches in her throat at the small, black velvet box. “Blake?”

I fidget with the box, nerves shooting through me. Is she going to think this is weird? Or stupid? It’s not the usual gift from a man to a woman, that’s for sure.

But it’s not for a usual woman.

It’s for Zoey.

“It’s not what you think. Don’t freak out on me. It’s only our first date,” I tease. “No wedding rings . . . yet.”

I see Zoey’s relief, her chest lowering as she releases her held breath. God, I could watch her simply breathe all day, her breasts rising and falling hypnotically. She places her hand over mine, and I’m knocked out of my trance, lifting my eyes to hers, which are sparkling with humor.

But I don’t mind being busted looking at her. I want to look at her every day for the rest of my life. And one day soon, I will.

But not on our first date.

Tonight, I want to give her something else. “You are an extraordinary woman, Miss Walker. I see you, I respect you, and I want to know every little quirk in that sexy brain of yours. Whether I understand it or not, if it means something to you, it means everything to me.”

She blinks back tears I wasn’t expecting. “Why are you crying? You haven’t even opened it yet.”

She wipes at her eyes with her napkin. “I don’t know even know what it is, but I already love it. I love you.” Her smile is wavery, trembling at the edges.

“I love you too. Now open it.”

She presses her lips together, but the smile simply returns unbidden. And then she opens the small box and gasps, “Oh! It’s beautiful!” She pulls the necklace out of the box carefully, holding it up to examine it.

“Let me help with that.” I stand to move behind her, and she pulls her hair out of the way so I can slip the necklace around her neck and fasten it securely. The wooden pendant falls high on her chest, dainty and small. “I thought you could always have something wooden to touch for luck. It’s got a small indention on the back too, so you can rub it like a worry stone when you need a little extra luck. Or when you need to calm down before you kill me for leaving my sweaty socks on the floor again.”

I don’t do that anymore, won’t ever do it again. One word from Zoey about the smell making her think of being in the trunk with Sebastian’s workout clothes did something years of my mother’s complaining could never do, instantly breaking me of the habit of stripping step by step on the way to the shower after my morning run and leaving my clothes all over the place.

Now, I strip in the laundry room and immediately start the washer.

But Zoey is doing well, so much better than any of us expected. She’s back to work at the morgue, telling everyone that she won’t let anything stop her from doing what she loves and what her grandpa taught her to do. Alver does regular patrols now, checking the morgue, including the refrigerator, each time.

And Jeff stops by every shift too, keeping an eye on Zoey like only a father can.

Zoey touches the wooden pendant thoughtfully. “Thank you. I love it. But I already feel so lucky. I don’t know if I deserve any more.”

“You deserve it all, Miss Walker.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hale.”

We take a car back to my place, and before the front door even closes, we’re touching each other in the dark and dancing down the hallway to my bedroom.

“I want to see you with nothing but that necklace on,” I growl against her neck. Zoey moans. It doesn’t simply sound like a moan of desire but the moan of a starving woman feeling full for the first time in her life. Her period of loneliness is over.

When we reach my bedroom, she steps away to let me unzip her dress and unhook her bra. She shrugs both off, leaving her heavy teardrop shaped breasts bare in the faint light coming in through the window. She’s glowing, her alabaster skin catching the moonlight and turning it even more beautiful.

“Your turn,” she says, sitting down on the edge of my bed and crossing her legs primly. It’s sexy and conflicting at the same time, her proper, ladylike pose contrasting with the erotic naughtiness of her near nudity.

I peel off my suit, tossing it aside for later cleaning to stand before her in just my own underwear, my hard erection straining against the cotton of my boxer briefs. “Better?”

Zoey nods, scooting back to the middle of the bed before lying back. In one smooth movement, she peels her panties down and off before spreading her legs, holding them open and displaying herself for me.

I don’t need any words. I climb onto the bed, my hungry mouth finding the inside of one thigh and then the other as I kiss my way back and forth. I inhale her musk, the heady aroma making my head swirl and my heart hammer in my chest.

I’ll get to do this for the rest of my life.

The thought makes me smile against Zoey’s pussy, and she runs her fingers through my hair, her own smile audible in her happy sigh. That sigh becomes a deep moan as I reach out, licking her with my tongue and exploring her wet folds. I remember what she likes, teasing up and down between her lips for a few strokes before circling her clit and then sucking lightly.