Page 82 of Until We Come Home

“I love you so much,” he whispers. “I’ve completely lost myself in you.”

I laugh, threading my fingers into his hair. “I thought I was the one who was yours?”

“Well, I guess I can’t have you without losing myself in you too. Seems you have me just as much. I’m yours, Mia. Completely.”

I wake slowly to the weight of a broad arm draped over my waist, the heat of his body pressed close beside me. Morning light filters soft through the windows of my sublet, the room where we finally landed last night. I lie perfectly still, with zero desire to crawl out of bed just yet.

Mateo tightens his arm around me, and last night comes rushing back. The studio floor, the walk home, my bed, where we ended up having sex again. Everything else that happened yesterday—a high-stakes performance, a marriage proposal, a breakup—feels like a distant blur compared to being tucked in this bed with my favorite person.

Oddly enough, none of it weighs on me. A flicker of guilt surfaces when I think of Derek, but he’ll bounce back fast enough. He always does, and so will I. This is where I belong.

I shift onto my side, snuggling against him. Mateo has always been tall and broad, built like the firefighter he is, but tucked against his side under the quilt, he feels even bigger. I grin to myself, breathing in the faint trace of his cologne and brushing a hand through his black hair.

I’m deliciously sore every time I move, a reminder of exactly how many times he had me last night, and where I expected this morning to feel awkward, everything feels so right I can hardly stand it.

“Since when are you the early riser?” he mumbles, his eyes still closed, though his hand drifts down my back to pull me in.

I trace a slow line along his jaw, rough with stubble.

“Well, lots on my mind. Plus, I’m enjoying the view,” I tease, shifting to press myself against him. “It’s not every day I wake up with a naked firefighter in my bed.”

He chuckles, the corner of his mouth tipping up as his hand slides lower to grab my ass, shameless about it. That’s when I feel him, hard and heavy against my thigh.

“Enjoying yourself over there?” I ask, pressing closer until there isn’t an inch of space between us, rolling my hips against his cock.

He cracks one eye open, his gaze so hungry and so fond at once that it melts me on the spot. “Immensely.”

I laugh and climb up to straddle him, and he rolls onto his back to make room. His skin is hot beneath my palms, his cock thick and hard between my legs, and he looks up at me with those heavy-lidded eyes, and I wonder how I ever managed to resist him for so long. He holds my waist, his long fingers tracing my hips.

“You doing okay this morning?” he asks, his voice gravelly with sleep. “I know last night was a lot, so if you’re rethinking things, or if you need some space...”

“Mateo,” I interrupt, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against his lips that turns his words into a smile. “I am definitely not having second thoughts. Honestly, the only thing I feel guilty about is how ridiculously happy I am right now.”

He nods, his gaze softening as he pulls me down against his chest. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

I rock my hips over him, dragging myself along the length of his cock, and his breath stutters. His head presses back into the pillow.

Our eyes lock in the morning light. He pushes himself up to sitting, his hand skimming up my side before he draws me into a kiss that unravels me, deep and unhurried. His cock throbs between us, and I grind down on him as his other hand grips my waist and holds me steady.

His mouth moves over mine with a demanding kind of sweetness, setting my whole body on fire all over again, stripping everything away until there’s nothing but his hands on my skin and how badly I need him inside me.

“We really should have done this a long time ago,” I say, breathless, lifting my head to look at him.

He laughs, deep and rough, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m not going to argue with you on that.”

I reach down between us, wrap my hand around his cock, and line him up, his grip on my hips tightening as he watches me. I sink down onto him, taking all of him while that sweet ache from last night burns into something even better, and a shaky moan spills out of me.

“Fuck,” he breathes against my lips. “That’s it. Take all of it.”

Then he pulls my mouth back down to his, his hands sliding down to grip my hips and guide me over him, and the rest of the world can wait.

CHAPTER 24

Mia

Mateo and I crack up at the same time at the comedy we put on. We’ve been melted into my couch since dinner, Thai takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, both of us still a little hazy from the hour we spent in my bed before that.

I’m stretched out along the couch with my back against the armrest, my feet tucked into his lap while he rubs my soles through a pair of thick fuzzy socks. He’s surprisingly thorough about it, his thumb working slow circles over my arch.