Page 71 of Let the Light Shine Through

“Yeah. It’s…nothing.”

There’s more Gia wants to say. I know it and Rowdy knows it, because he waits before saying, “I already got work off, so if you need me to take you to—”

“No. It’s all good. I’ll be there.”

“All right. So what time should I—”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“What? What about your Raptor? You’re not gonna try to load it by yourself, are you?”

Not bothering with any pleasantries, Gia hangs up on Rowdy’s ass. I’m pretty sure she could load it by herself.

Silence stretches between us until it hugs us both, squeezing us, but in opposite directions.

Eye of the storm.

I shake it off, straightening my shoulders and asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“We’re going somewhere.”

I try but fail epically to hide my smile.

“Tomorrow morning, be here at eight. We’re taking your truck,” she says before disappearing inside her house without a backward glance.

I stand outside the closed door, waiting for her to come back out and give me a few more details, like what to bring and maybe even, I don’t know, where we’re going, but in true Gia fashion, she leaves me guessing.

Should I go inside and ask? I did get permission from Al to walk in unannounced.

No. We’re going somewhere. Together. That’s enough for me.

That’s everything.

Gia

Familiar fingers skim over the thin layer of sweat coating my inner thigh, moving inward as glowing gold eyes capture mine, holding me hostage.

“Open.” His raspy voice alone makes me shiver.

“Anything,” I whisper, the word falling from my lips as easily as my legs falling open to the sides.

Tight circles focusing on my throbbing clit have my hips lifting off the mattress, trying to chase that perfect pace—not too fast, not too slow, with absolutely zero letup.

“Will you come for me? Please?”

My pulse skips a beat, throwing the tempo off briefly. He doesn’t usually ask. He tells. He demands.

The pressure deep inside my pussy, deep inside me, increases, bringing me back, and I repeat, “Anything,” bucking against the hand between my thighs as my eyes squeeze closed even tighter.

The hand on my sticky neck glides down to my breast, pinching the hardened tip, and I stuff my face into the pillow by my head, smothering the cry ripping through my throat.

My hip thrusts grow erratic, spastic, downright violent as the swirling intensifies, and just as the orgasm begins to crest, I hear, “Do you love me?”

What?

Our eyes meet again, the raw vulnerability in his just as evident as it was when we first met. Just as endearing. Just as irresistible.

“Can you love me forever, baby?”