I fell hard and fast, despite my father’s objections.
He wanted me to marry a bride of his choosing—someone who would strengthen the family ties.
But the day I met Stephanie, I knew she was the only one for me.
It was the most romantic time of my life—even if Stephanie was right and I had been skeptical of love before I met her.
But she was a breath of fresh air in my stifling world, all creativity and ambition when I’d only ever known structure and discipline.
Even then, I loved her passion for flowers and making things grow.
I could watch her gardening for hours, the devotion and energy she poured into her pants. She captivated me, body and soul.
With vivid clarity, I recall how much she loved going to the botanical gardens—and damn if I didn’t love taking her there.
My already-rigid cock—still swollen from my dream of her—throbs when I think about the first time we went together.
“You’ve really never seen the botanic gardens?” she pressed, her fingers twining with mine as she practically skipped through the front doors.
She was wearing one of those colorful summer dresses she loved so much—with an open back and halter-top strap that tied at the nape of her neck.
The flattering sweetheart neckline and the way it hugged her ribcage before flaring out at the hips drove me wild, and every time she twirled with enthusiasm, the skirt swirled around her knees, giving me a tantalizing peek of her toned thighs.
“You think guys like me have time to stroll through public gardens regularly?” I teased, entirely too full of myself and brazenly cocky at the time.
Stephanie laughed, the melodic sound zinging through my body. “I promise there’s more to it than that.” The glance she cast me over her bare shoulder made my pulse race.
God, but I would follow her anywhere when she looked at me that way.
It was almost seductive—except Stephanie always possessed a shy streak.
She knew just how to tempt me but never made the first move. Not that I ever needed urging.
During our time together, I fucked her in the closets, bathrooms, and dark hallways of nearly every venue in town.
I laid claim to her body in back alleys, on forest beds, and against all varieties of public property every chance I got.
I couldn’t keep my hands off her, and that was just the way she liked it.
But on this day, our first trip to Chicago’s botanic gardens, it was the first.
We talked for hours, strolling through the gardens I’d never spared a second thought for before I met her.
She taught me things about plants I never would have dreamed to ask.
Then, in a shady corner of the greenhouse for tropical plants, she turned to me, her fingers curling around the collar of my dress shirt.
“I want you, Gio,” she breathed, her green eyes looking up at me through those impossibly thick, dark lashes.
The thrill of those three beautiful words rippled through me like an electric current, and when I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, she melted against me.
Our lips met with a reckless passion.
I can still recall the way she tasted—like sweet honey and spearmint.
An addictive combination.
“You want me to… what?” I teased in a soft growl, my cock throbbing as I let my hands roam down the curves of her body.
