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He’s mine.

“Oh my. Oh yes.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment as I lose my breath.

My hands reach out and clench the sheets between my fingers to steady my body as Gio drags a hand down the center of my chest and around my stomach, like he’s memorizing every curve, every freckle, and every imperfection.

“You’re fucking beautiful. I want you to watch us. I want you to see how perfect we fit together.” He clenches my thighs and thrusts.

My gaze drifts to where his steely cock slips in and out. It’s glistening wet with me, and as I watch him wreck my pussy in such an animalistic way, I come undone. Tension rushes to that spot. Pressure builds inside, and all my muscles tighten. I grab Gio like I’m about to float away.

“Gio . . . I’m coming. I’m coming.” I cry out and dig my heels into his back and tug him closer. Heat tangles throughout, coiling and tightening, until⁠—

“Fuck! Yes!” Gio’s face contorts.

I let go and give in to everything—the banter, the flirting, the games. I give in to letting someone treat me right. I give in to being loved for this moment and every moment from here on out, and it’s more beautiful than I ever imagined.

In a haze, I open my eyes and watch as Gio comes too. For me, because of me. He’s frantic and determined one moment, and then he folds over me, relieved and serene seconds later.

We collapse in kisses and exhaustion. He pulls me across our bed, touching me like there’s more to wring out of each other. Our limbs are a tangle wound so tightly, we can’t be unknotted.

This will never be enough. I will always want more.

How will I tell him? How in the world could we make this work? Where do we even begin?

I don’t have the answers, and I try not to think about what new heartbreak could come from this. A new voice inside me whispers just be happy right now. And I hold him as tightly as possible until our breathing returns to normal.

Downstairs, the front door to the bungalow closes. Chatter fills the open space. Footsteps cross the house. Gio and I look at each other with wide eyes.

In our haste to do everything to each other, we made a mess. Only now do I recall the scattered clothes, the knocked-over furniture, the papers all over the floor.

I cringe. Our friends will never let us live this down.

I hold my breath, waiting for their response.

“They didn’t even make it to their room!” Matt hoots.

I imagine him kicking clothing across the floor and stopping to take a photo of my bra. It might be circling on the ceiling fan at this very moment.

Still wrapped in each other’s arms, Gio and I turn to each other and snicker.

“Oh God, please tell me that isn’t a freshly used vibrator on the kitchen table.” Casey guffaws.

“Forget the vibrator, there’s an ass print beside it!” Matt screams.

I snort, which makes Gio laugh harder. We roll into each other, trying to contain our mirth.

We are the worst.

“Yep, that’s definitely Sophia’s ass.” Matt assesses the mystery of the ass-print crime scene.

“Don’t take a picture!” Casey screams.

Someone gets smacked.

“You two destroyed my special-edition books. You owe me, bitches!” Amelia yells, and I imagine her shaking her fist from the bottom step.

“She might kill us for that.” I stop laughing.

“No regrets.” Gio takes my hand and kisses the knuckles, and I beam.