She looked at least ten years younger than her actual age, with the top half of her hair pulled into a bun, and the back half down, resting at the nape of her neck. She wore a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a picture of Michael Jordan dunking on the front, black jeans, and black socks.
“You’re beautiful as hell, baby,” I complimented with a broad smile because I was so damn happy to see her in the flesh.
“Thank you. You’re looking pretty handsome yourself.”
I wanted to pull her into my arms, but my hands were full, so I followed her inside. She took the bouquet of purple roses mixed with jasmine that I’d gotten from a flower shop not too far from my condo, put them to her nose, and inhaled.
“These are beautiful and smell so good, Sylas. Thank you. Let me get a vase and?—”
“That can wait.”
“What are you doing?” she asked as I removed the flowers from her hands.
I put them on the table near the door, along with the small gift bag, then wrapped her in my arms and buried my nose in her neck. I inhaled deeply, relishing her scent.
“Damn, I missed you,” I mumbled, my lips brushing against her skin.
“I missed you, too.”
At least a minute passed before I put some space between us, and my lips found their way to hers. I damn near groaned on contact. After weeks of staring at her beautiful face on FaceTime and not being able to do exactly what I was doing, it felt as if I’d won the lottery.
I squeezed her ass cheeks, pressing her body against mine. It felt good to be close to her again, and the thought of leaving her presence when the time came already annoyed the fuck out of me. I’d never longed to be around a woman until I left Khiya in that hotel room in Denver.
I had no idea how long we kissed like two teenagers in heat, but if we didn’t pump the brakes, we’d never leave her apartment. I begrudgingly pulled away, leaving us both breathless.
“Are you sure you don’t want to order in?” I asked.
She smiled. “I’m positive. What’s in the bag?”
I grabbed the bag from the table and gave it to her. She pulled out the small box and slowly opened it, gasping when she saw what was inside.
“Sylas, what are these for?”
Her expression was one of confusion as she looked back and forth between me and the two-carat diamond solitaire stud earrings.
“I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day, and last week, you were complaining about not having any small earrings to wear on your flights.”
Sable Airlines, like most airlines, had strict dress code rules that included the kind and size of the jewelry the flight attendants wore. Khiya preferred wearing larger earringsbecause the bob-style she wore her hair most of the time covered her ears.
“Valentine’s Day? We’d just met. You didn’t have to get me a gift.”
“I know.”
“You’re a sweetheart, but these are too much. I can’t?—”
“If you’re about to say you can’t accept them, you can and you will. It’s not up for negotiation.”
“But if you bought them for me to wear to work, they’ll still be covered by my hair.”
“I know, but their diamonds, so do you really care?”
She looked at the earrings again, this time with a big smile.
“You have a point. I love them. Thank you so much, baby.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and stood on her toes to kiss my lips. My hands went back to her ass for a quick squeeze before she stepped back.
“You’re welcome. You gon’ give me a tour of your apartment?”
