Chapter 79 Mrs perverson
It’s platinum with a pear-shaped green diamond and a single row of round brilliant white diamonds hugging it.
I think I may have just died and gone to girlie heaven.
I’d sell crazy Darla to have this ring that’s how amazing it is. Of course, I’d never tell her that; she’d have hide if I did.
My eyes scan around for a price for the ring, but there isn’t one, which means it’s ridiculously expensive.
That ring will be worth more than I can earn in a lifetime.
“See anything you like?” Natte says in a husky voice from behind me.
Without thinking, I say in my still dreamy state, “Look at that ring, it’s so beautiful,” pointing my finger to it.
I’m such a girl at times.
“Um … I mean it’s nice, you know, as rings go … so did you get what you came for?” I ask, abruptly changing the subject.
I turn away from the dream ring to face him.
Natte looks absolutely delicious tonight. And very smart. He’s dressed in blue jeans, but he’s wearing a shirt and a suit jacket with them. It shouldn’t work, but it does on him, and he looks so very hot.
I’m wearing my sleeveless, floral print dress. It’s fitted at the waist, and has a cut-out back. It’s pretty, with a real sexiness about it. I’ve teamed it with my cream heels. And my hair is down and curly, just as Natte likes it.
We’re about to step out of Tiffany’s when I spot a familiar figure wobbling down the street on a beat-up bicycle.
“shia golden?” the voice calls out.
I freeze. My heart skips. That voice… I know that voice.
Darla. My nemesis.
And she’s not alone. Leaning casually on the handlebars of her rickety bike is Dreg, her boyfriend, they
“Darla,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm but failing spectacularly.
“Well, well, well,” she smirks, locking eyes on Natte like she’s sizing him up for a tournament. “If it isn’t shia and… oh, is this the old friend, the guy you’ve been hiding from the world?”
Natte raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Uh… hi.”
Darla hops off her bike, pushing it to the side. “Hi? Hi? Is that all you got? You look like a walking Armani ad, dude. Who are you again?”
I bite my lip to stop from laughing. Some things never change when it comes to her. Darla has always had this brutal, straight-shooter energy.
“Oh, and don’t get me started on you, shia,” she continues, rolling her eyes. “ it's been over two months since last I saw you and you are still playing house with a rock star. Should’ve known you’d end up with someone famous. You never did hide your crushes well.”
Natte leans closer to me, whispering, “You weren’t kidding about her, she hasn't changed at all.”
I nudge him, “Be polite… maybe.”
Darla snorts. “Polite? That’s cute. I see you’ve got a Tiffany’s box there. Birthday present, huh? Typical shia, always dramatic.” She glances at Natte and smirks. “And I see it's still the mysterious Natte Johnson. I remember you… little punk with the guitar, sneaking around .”
Natte blinks. “I… uh…”
I cover my face with my hands, mortified. “Darla…”
She laughs, loudly and obnoxious, pushing Dreg lightly. “Seriously, baby, we need to see if this guy can handle my shia circus. Or are you scared, Natte Johnson?”
Natte smirks faintly. “Bring it on.”
Darla grins and swings back onto her bike like nothing happened. “Later then, fancy boy. Don’t wreck my girl’s evening.”
She pedals off with Dreg laughing behind her.
I exhale, trying to calm my racing heart, and look at Natte. “Well… that was… fun?”
Natte chuckles. “Fun. Sure. Totally normal first encounter with her after seven years.”
I shake my head, laughing.
We finally slide into the car, the Tiffany’s box still resting on the armrest between us.
“I got you a little something,” Natte says, looking surprisingly nervous.
“Is that what you went in there to pick up?”
“What is it?” My insides are doing cartwheels at the moment, but I’m keeping a poker face on. I don’t want to come across as the girlie idiot I truly am.
He smiles, chuckling lightly. “Open it and find out.”
I reach forward and pick the box up. Cracking it open, I find inside the most beautiful necklace I’ve ever seen. Ever.
I can’t believe he bought me this. I think I may actually cry.
“It’s so beautiful, Natte,” I breathe.
“Open it up,” he points his chin at the locket.
I gasp. The smile on my face has just reached maximum size.
“Your dad sent me the picture,” he says, looking shy. I love shy Natte.
Printed inside the locket are two pictures of Natte and me. One from when I was a toddler. I must have been three years old max, and the other is from the after-show party in London like he said.
“So you like it then?” he whispers into my mouth as our kissing slows.
“I love it, and I love you.”
“Birthday present number three,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back off my face.
“I got all my seven the moment you agreed to be mine.”
“Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic, Natte Johnson.” Smiling, I trace my fingertip over his lips. Bad news because Natte doesn't allow me to withdraw my hand and everything gets extremely hot.
It’s crazy to believe that was only last month since we became official. It feels like we’ve done so much together since then.
Let's do it a gain" Natte says
“Again?” I say.
“Always.”
“Well we’re not doing it here, in the car on the street, Pervy Pervet"
“Shut your face, and put my necklace on, PP,” I grin at him.
I turn away from him, moving my long hair away from my neck.
Natte places the cool metal around my neck, and catches the fastener at the back. His hands linger on my shoulders, and then I feel the touch of his warm lips on the nape of my neck.
It sends shivers running down my spine.
He smells and feels amazing, and a heat starts to rise in my body, pooling in my belly. And now I’m turned on.
I start to inch my fingers up his thigh.
Natte catches hold of my hand. “We’re not doing it here, shia.”
“Mrs Perverson,” he smirks, then leaving me cold, he starts the car, puts his belt on, and pulls out into the road.
Mrs? Hmm… I’m liking the sound of that.
Mrs. shia golden Johnson.
The thought makes me feel a little sad.
“Where to now?” I ask, ignoring my own crashing wedding bells, and instead try to poker some info out of him.
“Now it’s time for birthday present number four.”
Natte turns to face me, sliding his arms around my waist, pulling me close.
“I knew one day I would eventually see you again, and I knew when that day came I wasn’t letting you go for anything. And these were the things I wanted to do with you when I had you back. No one else, just you. ”
“So you were waiting for me?”
“Yes. ”
Holy fuck.
“And what if fate had decided we were never to be?”
“Then there would never have been anyone else. There is no one else for me. Only you. ”
Just when I think he can’t get any sweeter, he goes and says something to top his last heavenly saccharin.
I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
“I’m never letting you go,” he whispers, as my lips touch his skin.
“I don’t want you to. Ever. ”
I spy over Natte’s shoulder a guy, an older guy, loitering by a doorway at the other side of the bridge where Natte brought me to see the night view
“I think one of your staff is waiting for you. ”
Natte glances over his shoulder and signals two minutes to the guy.
He nods and steps back just inside the door.
“He’s not my staff, smart ass,” he says slapping my behind. “Just hired for the night. ”
“I hope I’m not just a hire for the night?” I press my lips together, holding back my smile.
“Depends on what you have to offer?” He raises an eyebrow, giving me his, fuck-me-now stare.
“N-Natte Johnson are you Natte Johnson?” comes a young sounding voice to our right.