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JORDAN

Jordyn is sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor, a massive book on her lap, a cup of half-finished coffee by her thigh, and a small plate now filled with nothing but croissant crumbs.

I sit beside her and hand her a small white box.

She eyes me suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“I’m taking you out on a date tonight. It’s a little something to wear.”

“Do I embarrass you in my jeans and shirt?”

“No. You can wear rags for all I care. Just … just open it, baby.” I nudge it closer to her.

A faint, nervous smile tugs on her lips. She tugs on the ribbon and lifts the lid. Her breath catches, and she freezes. Inside is the dress she’s been looking at the other day. Her hands hover over it. “Jordan…”

“You like it, baby?”

Her voice catches in her throat. “H-how did you?—”

“I pay attention, baby.” I trail kisses down the side of her face to her neck. “And I want to fuck you against the wall while you wear that.”

Jordyn’s chuckle morphs into a moan. Goddammit, how can one guy be this lucky?

The End

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