“I’m not going to let you run into anything,” he says with a laugh.
“I know, but you try walking around blindfolded.”
There’s a beep, the swing of a door, then his strong arms are sliding under my knees and around my waist again, lifting me effortlessly.
We ascend a short flight of stairs. When he sets me down, his hands move to the back of my head. He lifts the mask gently, his breath skimming my ear as he whispers, “Happy birthday, babe.”
He presses a soft kiss to my cheek, then drops his hands to my shoulders.
I blink, letting my eyes adjust. Then I gasp.
We’re on a rooftop. Fairy lights drape from the pipes and walls, and candles flicker everywhere. A sea of blankets, pillows, and champagne lies in the center. My fingers lift to my lips as warmth spreads through my chest, wrapping around my heart.
All these years, and he still finds ways to surprise me, still knows exactly how to make me feel special.
The view of the Hudson River stretches wide, the city skyline glowing beyond it. Judging by the angle, we’re in Tribeca.
“Oh my God.” I spin around, eyes wide. “Matt!” I throw my arms around his neck and laugh. “This is incredible.”
“Yeah? You like it?”
“Like it? Iloveit.” I press my lips to his, firm and appreciative. “I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.”
One kiss turns into two.
“You deserve it,” he murmurs.
Then two becomes three, and before I can really take it all in, Matt’s mouth is sliding across my jaw.
Down my neck.
His tongue lingers at my collarbone, and I tilt my head, granting him access.
My hands slide past the collar of his shirt, palms pressedflat against his chest as I tuck them inside his jacket. His thumb toys with the thin strap of my dress, dragging it past my shoulder, his lips replacing it with soft kisses that turn the slow thunderstorm of desire into a full-blown hurricane. He pulls me closer, fingers tracing the length of my bare back.
Mattlovesan open back. He goes wild over it. Makes perfect sense it’s what he picked for me to wear.
“God, babe, you’re too fucking sexy.” He palms my breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then he presses his body into mine, hard and wanting, before pulling back with a low groan. “Shit.” His hands cup my cheeks as he kisses me deeply once more, then draws back, eyes meeting mine. “I don’t want to have sex yet. Let’s go sit. Have a toast. Celebrate you.”
“What if this is how I want to celebrate?” My smile turns sly, teasing.
His chuckle rumbles through him. “Oh, I fully intend to ruin you for your birthday. Just… not yet.”
With that, he takes my hand and leads me toward the pile of blankets sprawled across the rooftop.
We sit, and Matt pops the champagne as I kick off my shoes, stretching my legs out in front of me, crossing one ankle over the other. He pours us each a glass, handing one to me before lifting his in the air beside mine.
He turns his head, gaze catching mine. His grin’s wide and genuine and sexy as hell, making it hard not to jump his bones this very moment. “To the most gorgeous woman in every room,” he starts, and I laugh softly, shaking my head.So cliché.
He nudges my foot with his and keeps going. “May you keep kicking ass at work, finally stand up to your yiayiá, and continue sucking dick better than anyone I’ve ever met.” He huffs out the last part through a laugh, and I swat his arm.
“Matt!”
He licks his lips, smothering that grin of his. “To twenty-five being the best year yet.”
He tips his glass toward mine, and I clink it against his as I take a sip, bubbles fizzing againstmy tongue.
“Thank you,” I say. “This is really amazing.”
