“What does ‘Vita Mia’ mean?” I ask, tilting my head to read the scrawling cursive along the back of his hand.
Something about it feels insanely familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.
Gio chuckles, turning his wrist to give me a better view. “Jackson asked me about that one too. Like mother, like son, it would seem.”
I hum, a soft smile curving my lips as I lift my fingers to trace the beautiful curves of the letters.
“It’s Italian for ‘My Life,’” Gio says, growing more serious.
I can hear the emotion in the husk of his voice.
Turning my head, I rest my chin on his chest as I look up at his face, studying his expression.
But whatever pain he feels, I can tell he’s right here with me, his captivating eyes soaking me in like I’m the only thing on this earth that matters.
The intensity of his gaze steals my breath away, and I lean forward to kiss him, long and slow.
Then I settle back into his arms.
We stay like that for a long time, the silence wrapping around us like a warm, welcome blanket.
As I lie there, our bodies entwined, I can’t help the feeling that this connection with Gio is something special.
Maybe that’s why I’m scared to trust it—it almost feels too good to be true.
And it’s been a long time since I allowed myself to believe in fairy tales.
But even if it is only temporary, I’m not ready for this moment to end.
My eyelids sink closed as I rest my ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as his chin alights softly on the crown of my head.
The warmth of his body, the soft, dark hair that graces his smooth, tanned skin, all of it feels so inviting as he draws me in.
When I open my eyes again, dawn is creeping in through the window, announcing the first hours of the day.
I’m exhausted from getting so little sleep—though the sleep I did get that second time around felt deep and dreamless—but I’m happier than I can ever remember being when I realize I’m still wrapped in Gio’s strong arms.
Tilting my chin, I look up to see if Gio’s sleeping, and he sucks in a breath as his eyes open in response to the subtle movement.
“Morning,” he rumbles, his voice jagged and dangerously sexy with sleep.
“Good morning,” I murmur, unable to hold back my grin.
“We fell asleep,” he observes.
“Yeah.”
Sighing, Gio keeps one arm wrapped around me as he rubs the sleep from his eyes with the other and lets his head fall back against the headboard. “Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you. I just meant to close my eyes for a minute.”
“I’m glad you stayed,” I admit, then bite my lip. “Though… if you don’t mind, I’d rather you slip out before Jackson’s awake.”
Gio nods. “Of course.”
I don’t know how I got so lucky to find someone that understanding, but I appreciate it more than Gio could ever know.
We rise from the bed to gather our clothes, and as the light hits his gloriously naked body for the first time, I’m struck dumb by how truly gorgeous he is.
Every inch of him looks chiseled from stone, the stark lines of his chest and abdomen tapering into that deep V-cut that directs my eyes to his impressive cock.
