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God, so fucking happy.
Making me immediately realize how long it had been since I’d felt that way.
Years.
Way too many years.
Her legs were draped over my lap, and I couldn’t seem to stop my hands from wandering, teasing, as her face buried in my neck.
I was so wrapped up in her that I almost missed that the cab had stopped, and we were out front of my place.
I paid and we stumbled out, drunk, giddy, turned on.
I pinned her against the door, taking her mouth, kissing her until her hands were grabbing me, until mine were sinking into her ass, dragging her against my hard length.
Then I was unlocking the door and we were tumbling inside, pulling at each other’s clothes right in the foyer until we were both naked, both running our hands over each other.
My lips were on hers as I walked her backward toward the stairs. Both lost in the moment, in each other, in the desire overtaking our systems, that she tripped backward on the steps.
I just barely managed to grab her before her ass caught one of the unforgiving stairs.
But then I was grabbing her, turning her onto her hands and knees, her round ass out at me, just begging for a little slap as I moved in behind her.
The sound of the impact ricocheted off the walls back at us, drowned out only by her moan at the pain and pleasure mix. Which only prompted me to even things out with her other cheek.
Then my fingers were toying with her pussy, finding her soaking wet and needy. She rocked against my touch as I stroked her clit, as I fingered her.
“Emilio, fuck me,” she whimpered, inhibitions gone, and left was only what she truly wanted to say.
And, fuck, did it sound good.
I wasn’t about to make her suffer either.
I slipped on the condom then moved in behind her, teasing up her pussy.
“Emilio, now,” she whimpered rocking back against me.
The same urgency was flooding my system, and I thrust into her.
Hard.
Making her have to grab the next step up to keep from flying forward.
“Yes,” she cried, slamming back into me, demanding more.
That was exactly what I gave her.
Until her cries were filling up the room, mingling with my grunts and groans, until we were both coming hard together, her moans and my curses mixing together.
We stayed there after, trying to catch our breaths, bodies buzzing, but spent.
We eventually separated, her to go feed the kittens, me to deal with the condom.
I went into my room after, waiting to see if she would come, or I would have to go get her again, but then I heard the floorboards creaking, and she was coming into my room wearing nothing but a tee that she pulled off before coming to the bed, and cuddling in on my chest.
Her fingers were toying over my shoulder as mine drifted up and down her back.
“Emilio?” she called, voice soft.
“Yeah, baby?”
“This was the best day I think I’ve ever had,” she said, giving me a one-armed little squeeze, a makeshift hug.
Not nearly good enough.
Both of my arms went around her, squeezing her tight, like it was possible to relay the depth of my sincerity to her physically when I said, “Me too.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Avery
The doorbell rang as I was standing in the kitchen waiting for my coffee to brew, bleary-eyed behind a pair of sunglasses. Because, apparently, we’d had more to drink than I thought we did, and I was older than I used to be, and it was all creating a big, epic, hangover.
Emilio didn’t seem to be similarly suffering. He’d actually gotten up like usual to go to the gym before coming home to shower and head out to work. The freak. All before I could even drag my dehydrated ass out of bed.
The only thing keeping me from being completely miserable were all the beautiful memories from the night before. Ones I was trying not to sully with things like my betrayal and what was going to happen once he found out the truth.
I toyed with the idea of, I don’t know, sitting down and talking to him about it. Being open and honest. He would have to call in Lorenzo. There would be a meeting and questions.
I believed in the decency of the Costa men now that I’d been in their world for a while.
But no matter their ability to accept me and this situation, it didn’t change that it wouldn’t help.
Because Renzo had a card up his sleeve. One I knew he wasn’t opposed to using against me.
I shook those thoughts away as I made my way to the door, frowning when I saw a messenger standing there.
I was not in appropriate “open the door to strangers” attire, wearing one of Lorenzo’s button-ups, my sunglasses, and literally nothing else.
