Page 87 of Because of Blake
I huff a breath. “So, what’s with the tux?”
“What? Can’t a guy get dolled up for his girl?” He shivers. “Can I come in? This thing isn’t exactly warm.”
“I don’t know,” I say, leaning against the door frame. “I need to know your intentions first.”
Blake sighs, giving me the most adorable puppy dog look. “My intentions are completely dishonorable, madame.” He winks, sending a thrill through me. “Now, let me in so I can show you.”
I giggle and step aside to allow him to pass. As he enters I get a whiff of his cologne I adore, and I’m a puddle. “How long do you plan on wearing this tux?”
He turns his head over his shoulder as I close the door. “Depends. Where are the kids?”
“Not here. Sleeping at a friend’s house. Now, how long before this thing comes off?”
“Antsy, are we?”
“Well, it’s been a while since we’ve been together without the kids.” I look up at the ceiling as I think about how long it’s been since our impromptu love making in Joanna’s laundry room, and realize I’ve been starved for this man. I run my hand down and up his back, bringing my fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. “I’ve missed you.”
Blake shudders at my touch, but reaches back and grabs my wrist. “Not yet.” He tugs me along, guiding me to the kitchen. “Do you have something to put these in?”
I find a vase, fill it with water, and snip the ends of the roses before placing them inside. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
Blake stares at me with one side of his mouth curved up, and something in his eyes I can’t quite place.
As I admire my handsome man in his fancy tuxedo, I’m suddenly reminded of my appearance. “Oh, I’m a mess. Let me go freshen up.” I practically run up the stairs. I fix my hair, placing it in a not-quite-as-messy bun, throw on some mascara and lip gloss, and change into proper fitting, but still lounge, clothes. At least, somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered to shave today.
When I come back downstairs, Blake is standing in the living room. I give him a confused look as I walk up behind him. “Too good to sit on my couch, or is the tux really that uncomfortable?”
Blake turns to me, his eyes smoldering as they meet mine. Once we’re fully facing each other, he takes my hands in his. He licks his lips. “Maggie, these last eight months have been fantastic. I can’t imagine how empty my life would be without you in it.”
My heart leaps into my throat. Very sweet, but where is he going with this?
“I’ve been looking forward to this day for months. I wanted to make it perfect, something you’d remember for years to come.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it’s planted there. He’s attempting to instill a memory in me. The tux. The flowers. Valentine’s Day, the one day that isn’t Charlie’s.
“I have only one question for you.” His voice shakes.
He’s nervous. Oh, shit. Is this–
“Will you keep this a secret?”
Wait, what?“Keep what a secret?”
A wide grin spreads across his face and he leans down to put his lips to my ear. “My little show.” When he pulls away, he winks at me and leads me to sit on the couch.
I sit, dumbfounded by what I’m about to see, and I watch Blake dim the lights and put on some music. My head jerks back when the song starts. Not his usual taste of hard rock, the beat of “Flesh” by Simon Curtis comes blaring through my surround sound speakers.
Blake has his back to me, standing perfectly still. Then, his hips start moving to the beat. His foot taps the carpet and as the lyrics come on, he spins around, lip syncing them.
It’s all I can do not to laugh. Not because I think he’s stupid, but because he’s utterly adorable when he’s out of his element. And right now, he’s so far from his element, he’s in outer space.
He takes steps toward me, the look on his face a mixture of embarrassment and worry, but as we lock eyes, his features harden with confidence. His eyes darken and he throws himself into his “little show”, as it were. Slowly, he undoes his tux. The jacket comes off first and he whirls it over his head, tossing it to me as I giggle.
His shirt is next. Each button is excruciatingly slow. Right before he tears the shirt off, we lock eyes. A thrill runs through me, settling between my thighs as I watch him crumple the shirt into a ball and throw it over his shoulder.
Blake takes a large step forward so his hips are right in front of my face. I lean forward to kiss his chiseled stomach, but he puts his fingers on my forehead and pushes me away. I frown, and all he does is wave his finger in the air, all the while still mouthing the lyrics.
I didn’t even know he knew this song.