Kent
“So, this is how the other half lives, huh?” Presley says as we drive up the winding driveway toward my family home on Easter Sunday morning.
“This was normal to me growing up. We went to a private school, and all the kids were wealthy.”
“Are you sure I’m dressed okay?” she asks, twitching in her seat. It’s unusual to see Presley rattled since she’s always so self-assured, but she’s definitely nervous. She’s been peppering me with questions about my family the entire journey from Boston.
“Baby. You look gorgeous.” I slide my hand across the console, squeezing her bare thigh. She’s wearing a figure-hugging black dress with a gold stripe at the collar and the hem and long sleeves that flare at the end. The dress stops mid-thigh, and she is sexy and elegant and wholly fuckable. She’s wearing sky-high stilettos that accentuate her slim legs, and I’m having a hard time stopping my dick from jumping out of my pants and finding a home in her warm pussy. “Stop worrying. My family isn’t judgmental like that. Mom is going to take one look at you and proclaim you beautiful.”
It’s the truth. Presley is stunning, and I’m bowled over by her effortless beauty. Her hair is down in soft waves, and though she’s wearing more makeup today than she normally wears, there is no disguising her natural beauty. Her full lips are painted in a warm peachy color, and her high cheekbones are accentuated with a subtle blush. Smoky eyeshadow behind thick black lashes makes her big brown eyes seem even bigger.
“I don’t want to let you down. I know this is a big deal for you,” she says, squeezing my fingers.
I stop the car to the left of the front door, put it in park, and kill the engine. Leaning over the console, I kiss my girl. “That’s an impossibility. You could never let me down. Thank you for coming with me.” I’m glad she is here, and I’m determined to be a model boyfriend.
“Thank you for wanting me here.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “By the way, you look gorgeous all dressed up.” I’m wearing dress pants and a fitted black dress shirt because Mom expects all of us to make an effort for the big family occasions.
“Stop stealing my lines.” I kiss her softly.
“Before we go in,” she says, rummaging in her bag. “I want to give you this.”
“What is it?” I ask, taking the silver-wrapped square package from her hand.
“Open it and see.” She smiles, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and watches me tear at the wrapping.
I stare at the picture while my stomach turns cartwheels and my heart beats to a new rhythm. She has framed the picture of us that was online. It’s the only one the paparazzi scum has managed to take as we’ve been discreet anytime we’ve gone out since.
“I made the frame,” she says, sounding nervous. “And I have a matching one by my bed. I thought you’d like a copy.”
“I love it.” My ecstatic smile is genuine. “It’s a good picture of us.” I love the way we are looking at one another in this shot. Like we exist only for each other. And it was our very first date, proving the connection and the chemistry has been there from the very start.
“I know it’s not much, but I wanted to do something for you because you are always showering me with flowers and gifts.”
“I like spoiling you,” I admit, as the front door opens. I was wondering how long it would take Mom to make an appearance. She’s not known for her patience.
“The firing squad has arrived,” I joke, jerking my head in the direction of my parents.
“Stop that.” She nudges me in the ribs. “Your mom was lovely on the phone, and Selena loves her to bits. You make her sound like an ogre when I know that’s not the truth.”
“Stay there,” I tell her, deliberately not responding to her statements. “I’ll get your door.” I climb out of the car, nodding in my parents’ direction as I round the hood and open Presley’s door for her. Placing my hands on her hips, I lift her down, grasping her hand firmly as she grabs her bag and the large wrapped present she brought for my parents. I told her she didn’t need to bring anything, but she insisted.
After tucking the present under one arm, I hold her hand as I guide her toward my family home.
“Darling.” Mom steps forward, kissing me on both cheeks. “It’s so good to have you home.” She turns her attention to Presley, beaming at her. “And you must be Presley.” She pulls Pres forward, hugging her without invitation. “We are so happy to have you here. Thank you for joining us.”
“The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for the invite.”
“James.” Mom yanks Dad forward. “Come say hi to Presley. Isn’t she stunning?”
I smirk as Presley’s cheeks flush. She’ll soon get used to my crazy-ass family.
“That she is. Our sons are all lucky bastards.” Dad takes Presley’s hand, raising it to his lips for a kiss. “Welcome, Presley. I’ve got to admit I’m intrigued to meet the woman who’s managed to tame our Kent.”
I scowl at my dad, flipping him the bird behind Presley’s back.
“I haven’t tamed Kent,” Presley says, squeezing my hand. “Nor would I want to. I like him just the way he is.”
Mom positively glows, and Pres really couldn’t have said anything more perfect. “I love her already,” Mom tells me, not even attempting to hide that comment from my girlfriend. “Come on in. Most of the others are inside.”
