His to Steal

Ch. 30: My Shot

Nicolai

Ever since her dad has been gone, Sutton and I have been burning the candle at both ends. Both ends almost exclusively being spending every night in each other's beds and exploring all the things we've never gotten a chance to explore before—bodies, emotions, random opinions about everything from favorite singers (she still loves Ed Sheeran) to favorite potato chip flavors (we both still prefer plain).

But even though the boss is out of town, she still has to get her work done. So I've made sure we've carved out enough time every day to do the books, and last night, I pushed her to work a little bit longer. Of course, she'd argued with me and wanted to know why.

When I wouldn't tell her, she pouted.

But today, it's going to be worth it to see the look on her face.

I adjust the tie around my neck, leaving it loosened on purpose. If I have to wear a tie, I can at least make it look semi-cool. Smoothing my hands down the front of my thighs, I raise an eyebrow at my tight-fitting slacks. I hope whatever Sutton wears today doesn't end up giving me a fucking boner. There won't be any way to hide it in these.

Oh well.

Crossing the hallway to her room, I tap on the door.

"Come in," she calls.

I let out a frustrated puff of air and push the door open. "Mala tigrica, I have told you. Don't just tell whoever it is to come in. You need to ask who it is and even then, open the door with caution. I can't have you getting taken again."

She doesn't turn around, still typing away on her laptop. "Come on, Nicolai. We're inside the apartment. Who's going to take me from inside the freaking apartment?"

"Really? You don't believe that literally anything can happen by now?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning on the doorway.

She finally spins around in her chair. "I mean, I—" When her gaze lands on me, her lips part and her eyes trail up and down my body, snagging on the area I was just worried about in my room, making me shift from one foot to the other.

"What?" I ask, looking down at my clothes and back up to her. "Does it look bad?" I don't know why I am suddenly self-conscious. I know how to dress myself. But I want her to like it. I want her to think—

"God no. You look sexy," she says, getting up and crossing the room to the door, sliding her arms around my waist and looking up at me, trailing a long, red fingernail down the center of my chest, over each button.

My heart speeds up and I find it hard to form a sentence for a moment. Finally, I say, "Get dressed and meet me in the foyer. It's time to start our big day."

Her eyebrows knit together, and she looks down at her leggings and off the shoulder sweater. "I am dressed."

I twirl a loose curl around my finger, a smirk turning up my lips. "Yes. And you're perfect as always. But put on something a little bit fancier for me." Without saying anything else, I wink, plant a kiss on her lips, and go to wait in the foyer.

I hope she's as excited about the day I have planned for us as I think she'll be. She's been so down about Moulin Rouge, and while there's nothing I can do about that, I can give her this.

I'm tapping out a text to Dominique, letting her know we should be downstairs soon when I hear footsteps, and Sutton clears her throat.

"I'm ready."

When I look up, my heart squeezes in my chest. She looks fucking gorgeous. Long sleeved crimson dress that reaches her ankles, tight in all the right places, but flowy near the bottom. It looks perfect on her, and it's exactly the right dress for where we're going.