Chapter Twenty

Thorin

I adjust my bow-tie, and wipe my sweaty palms on my black dress pants before knocking on Reese’s door. This date, our first, has been meticulously planned over the last week, and I’d be a liar if I wasn’t in the least bit nervous. I’m no saint, I’ve been dating since I was sixteen, but nothing, not even dating supermodels, made me feel like this. Things have been going so well, not only with me and Reese, but with everything, and I don’t want to ruin what we have, what we’re taking time to build, by screwing up tonight. Over the last few days, we’ve found a new routine, a new rhythm, and have settled into whatever it is that’s happening between us naturally. Despite the chaos of starting construction on the sound studio, the wall on the outer edge of the ranch, and building up the hype for Reese’s upcoming fitness apparel and app launch, Mya and I have been planning mine and Reese’s first date. I was going to take her out to dinner, but Mya insisted it be more. She said I have to make a grand gesture, give Reese something no one else can. Of course, I knew exactly what that was, and when I told Mya my idea, she jumped on board. So did Fletch. I gave Mya my credit card, and told her to find a dress for Reese from Neiman Marcus, and aside from commandeering mine, and the band’s social media accounts in preparation for Reese’s fitness apparel and app launch—because of course the guys and I are going to help where we can— Mya played personal shopper on my behalf. Only she wouldn’t let me see the dress before tonight, which, I admit, makes me part excited, part anxious. Excited because I know Reese is going to take my breath away—she can be wearing a burlap sack, and still have that affect on me—and anxious because if tonight doesn’t go as planned, it will undo all the progress we’ve made over the last week. We’re in a good place, and I’ve been careful to let Reese set the pace after her episode last week. I don’t want to do anything that might spook her. She’d rather have me believe she’s strong—which I know she is—but I’m also aware that this is all new to her, and sometimes, it scares her. She doesn’t have to tell me as much, I’m just able to read her on a level I wasn’t able to before.

The door opens, and Mya smiles at me. “She’ll be right out.” I follow her inside, and wait, until I hear the telltale sign of heels on the hardwood floors. Reese steps around the corner, and yep, there goes all the air in my lungs. Hell, there goes the air in the living room. Her dark, auburn locks are hanging over one shoulder, clipped to the side with a diamond-encrusted hair clip. Her skins looks tan, flawless, and her make-up makes her blue eyes pop and shine. But it’s her red lips that hold my attention. Until I look at her dress. A champaign-colored sequin high-neck long-sleeve gown that hugs her every curve, showing off her narrow mid-section, and when she turns to the side, I see it’s backless. Christ almighty.

“Well?” She asks. “What do you think?

I open my mouth, only to find that my throat is as dry as the Sahara. I might as well have had cotton balls for dinner. “I…” I’m staring, and when I don’t say anything, Reese shuffles on her feet. Mya elbows me in the ribs.

“You look…” I try again, but my brain has short-circuited because she looks like a wet dream. Huh. I’m a man of words, I write them for a living, but right now, I can’t come up with any. None that’ll do her justice, anyway.

“Our rockstar is speechless, Reese,” Mya titters.

I try again. “You’re a vision, Reese Pie. Absolutely perfect.”

Her cheeks go pink, and she looks down. Mya hands me the clear box that contains a custom-made corsage, nudging me in Reese’s direction. I take it out, and walk closer until I can smell the scent of vanilla emanating from Reese’s skin.

“A corsage?” She looks up at me.

I slip it on her wrist, and hold out my arm for her to take. “Limo’s here.”

She swallows. “We’re not flying anywhere are we?”

“You’ve watched Forever My Girl one too many times,” I chuckle. “No, we’re not flying anywhere, but where we are going is a surprise.” Reese has tried really hard to get information out of me about our date, resorting to doing all kinds of things, including withholding sex—that lasted half a day—and doing the downward dog yoga stretch in my line of sight every morning while I was working on the studio. I almost caved, but held strong, even when a few of the construction workers leered at her ass.

“You two better get going,” Mya says behind me. I smile at Reese and kiss her cheek before leading her outside. “Have her home at a respectable hour,” Mya says, all serious-like. “And no funny business, ya hear.” She winks, knowing she’ll see us later.

I laugh, shaking my head all the way to where the limo is parked. I open the door, and let Reese slip in first. When we’re half-way down the gravel driveway, I pull a tie from my pocket. “I’m going to need you to put this on,” I tell Reese, covering her eyes. “Just for a few minutes.” She obliges, but I can tell she’s nervous by the way her hands shake when she touches the material. I have the driver take us through town and around the block three times before having him stop outside town square. There are people milling around, eating out with their families, or hanging out at Jameson’s, but I reserved the whole of town square for the night. It’s been closed of with red velvet ropes, and on the far end of the cobblestone square is a small stage where Fletch sits on a stool, acoustic guitar on his lap, dressed in a suit like mine. He’s tonight’s entertainment, and even though he plays drums, because that’s been his instrument of choice since high school, he knows his way around an acoustic guitar like the rest of us. I’d planned on calling in a favor with one of our musician friends, Kane Brown, but Fletch said it wasn’t necessary considering we’re, ya know, a world famous band. I help Reese climb out, and remove the tie from her head. Her gasp is my first reward. The giant oak on the left side of town square is covered in hanging mason jars filled with candles. A lone table, decorated in white and beige with fancy silverware set for two, sits below the string-light covered branches. They were supposed to be trimmed this week, but I paid to have them cut after tonight.

Reese looks up at me. “Thorin, what…”

Here goes nothing. “You never got the senior prom you deserved, so I’m giving it to you, and making up for the birthdays I’ve missed. Do you like it?” My heart thunders in my chest. This can go one of two ways for me—it’ll either erase the prom Reese did have from her memory, and replace it with something worth remembering, or it will upset her by making her remember senior prom the way it was and everything that happened that night. I hold my breath.

“This is…” Reese takes it all in, and then smiles. “So magical. You planned all this? For me?”

“For us,” I reply, touching her cheek. “I wanted you to have a first date worth remembering.”

She presses herself against my chest, her heels giving her added height. “Anything I do with you is worth remembering.” She brushes her lips across mine, and I kiss her, pouring everything I have into the moment. Just then, Fletch starts playing, and I pull Reese onto the makeshift dance floor. The chords of Kane Brown’s Heaven stream through the speakers, and we dance. Fletch’s voice is smooth, and rich, and he’s reworked the song, slowed it down.

“I love this song,” Reese murmurs, her blue eyes fixed on mine, body swaying.

“Me too, babe.” Little does she know, I had Mya send me a playlist of Reese’s favorite songs. Fletch has been reworking them for me all week, just for tonight.

“How long have you been planning this?”

I give her a crooked grin. “All week.”

“And the dress?”

“Mya picked it out, but she didn’t let me see it until you had it on. I’m glad she made me wait.” I rest my hand on Reese’s exposed back, and move with her. One song becomes four, and after a while I take Reese to the dinner table. We talk, drink champagne, and between meals, I make her laugh.

“This has been so perfect,” she tells me, wiping her mouth. “You’re going to have trouble topping it with our second date.”

“It’s not over yet,” I tell her. I reach for her hand. “Dance with me.”

Fletch starts singing Kane Brown’s Found You, and as soon as we step onto the dance floor, a camera flash goes off. Reese startles, but visibly relaxes when she spots Mya. I asked her to take photographs, and gave her permission to post them online of she wanted to. A few articles about me and Reese have already popped up online, and I have no problem letting the world know I’m happily off the market, and if I had it my way, it’ll be for good. I’m not going to rush it, though. A proposal will be too much too soon for Reese, but damn if I don’t want her forever. If she’ll have me.

Mya snaps away, but at some point, she fades into the background, along with Fletch. All I see, all I feel, is Reese.

“Are you excited for your launch?” I ask, tracing patterns on her back.

“I’m a little nervous,” she concedes. “I’ve worked hard for it, and I want it to succeed.”

I have no doubt it will. Mya has been working around the clock to make sure everyone knows about it, and to her credit, she’s damn good at her job. She’s been using photos from our trip to New York to build anticipation, and even the band’s fans have shown an avid interest.

“You have nothing to worry about, I think it’s going to more than you expect.” I kiss her nose. “Now, remind me why we’re not having a launch party, again?”

Reese sighs. “I wanted to, but with so many of my followers scattered all over the world, I didn’t think anyone would come.”

“Good thing I know some people.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”


It’s past midnight when the limo stops outside the house. Reese and I stayed long after Fletch and Mya had left, not wanting the first half of the night to be over. Not that Reese knows there’s a second half. I walk Reese to the front door of her house, and she hesitates at the front door.

“You should know, I was advised by my best friend not to put out on the first date.”

I try to suppress my smile because said best friend played an instrumental part in what comes next. I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but I planned ahead. Just in case.

I pull Reese to me, and kiss her softly. “We can end it here. I’ll kiss you goodnight, and go home.”

“Or?”

“Or you can open the door, and let me in. I’m following your lead, whatever you want is fine with me.”

She opens the door and pushes it open, greeted by a dimly lit room, and floors covered in rose petals. Cheesy? Maybe. Do I care? No. Because Reese wanted to be wooed, and what my girl wants, she gets. “Mya’s at my place with Eli,” I whisper. “It’s just you and me tonight.”

It’s the first night all week we’ll be completely alone. We may have been sharing a bed, but Eli’s been with us every night, regardless of whose house we’ve been in. When Reese is ready, I’ll ask her to move in with me, but for right now, I like how things are going. We step over the threshold, and I hold Reese’s hand while she slips her heels off. She helps me out of my tux jacket, chucking it over the sofa. And then she’s on the balls of her feet, craning her neck to kiss me. Her fingers work the buttons on my shirt, her hands tracing the planes of my stomach, my chest, my shoulders. My shirt falls to the floor, and I allow her the time to touch me, to explore, to feel. When I shiver, she breaks away and spins.

“Will you unzip me?” Her voice is hoarse, with a hint of a tremble. I lower the zipper, and slowly slide the dress off her shoulders, helping her step out of the pooled material at her feet. I suck in a breath. All she has underneath the dress is a beige lace thong, her ass on perfect display. God, she’s beautiful, her body a work of art, and I find it even sexier that she created it. She’s not flawless, but she’s not ashamed of that. She’s confident in her body, in her skin, and it adds to the list of things about her that drive me crazy. Without a word, Reese undoes my belt, lowers the zipper of my dress pants and slides them down my legs, along with my black boxer briefs. She drops to her knees and takes my hard dick in her hands.

“You don’t—”

“I want to.” She licks her lips. “Please.”

I swallow, the sound audible, but it’s my silence that gives her permission. She licks my shaft first, and then sucks the head into her mouth. She takes more of me into her mouth, and my legs shake. Her head bobs, lowering until I hit the back of her throat. A groan gets trapped in my throat, and my eyes roll. Heat crawls up my back, and if she keeps sucking, keeps taking me in all the way, I’m going to blow.

“Not like this,” I tell her. She blinks up at me, and lets go of my dick with a pop. She stands, removing her thong, and I’m on her in a hot minute. A collision of bodies, mouths, hands. I lift her, legs go around my waist, and carry her to her bedroom. We fall onto her bed, and she rolls us so that I’m on my back. Her fingers wrap around my shaft, and she rises on her knees. She lowers onto me, until I’m balls-deep inside her. She wriggles her hips, resting her hands on my chest, and starts riding me. I squeeze her breasts, pinch her nipples, and devour every whimper, every cry, every breath. Her skin slaps mine, and my hands move down her waist, cup her ass and hold her still while I thrust my hips up, up, up.

“Yes,” she breaths. “Harder. Fuck me, Thorin.”

So I do. Until we’re both seeing stars, seeing each other. She cries out, keeping her eyes firmly on mine, showing me all of her, everything inside and out. I grip her neck, spilling inside her, marking her, marking what’s mine. She collapses on my chest, breathing labored, and then smiles, resting her chin on my sternum. “Best. First. Date. Ever.”

“Not done yet,” I grunt, flipping her over. “Not by a long shot.”