I giggle, completely overcome by how reckless and nonsensical we’re behaving.
We’ve literally regressed back to what can only be described as those rebellious teenage years.
And I’ve never felt more alive.
Before I can catch my breath, we’re piling back into Gio’s car, and he’s practically peeling out of the parking lot to get back on the road to the store.
“That wasnothow I meant for this date to end,” he says, chuckling, and I laugh as I turn around in my seat to make sure no one’s followed us out to get our license plate.
“I feel like you say that a lot,” I tease.
We don’t stop laughing about it until we’re back at the flower shop, Gio pulling up to the curb in front of Blossoms and coming around to let me out of the car.
Like a gentleman walking me home, he waits as I unlock the shop door—then follows me inside.
For one heart-stopping moment, we stand there, just inches apart. I don’t want this date to be over—even if the hour’s up.
“I should let you get back to work,” Gio murmurs, voicing my thoughts.
I nod, disappointment pooling in my stomach even if he’s right.
“But I can’t quite yet,” he adds, closing the last few inches between us as he snakes his arms around me, lifting me off the ground.
I wrap my legs around him as our lips meet in an explosive kiss, and he turns, pressing my back against the glass door as he feels for the deadbolt.
My breaths shudder as he throws it home.
Then he carries me blindly toward the counter, then into the back room of the shop, our lips locked the entire time.
Tools clatter, and a moment later, my hips meet the corner of my desk, which I only ever use to balance the books.
Gio spills me back across the cool surface, sweeping papers and pencils to the floor to make room, then he leans over me as he licks and nips his way down to the neckline of my dress.
“Gio, I have to get back to work,” I pant, watching him through a haze of lust as he reaches beneath my dress to strip me of my panties.
“I’ll make it quick,” he teases.
Then, to my shock, he kneels in front of me, spreading my knees before he disappears beneath my skirt.
I gasp as hot lips press against the sensitive flesh at the peak of my thighs, and a shudder of sheer euphoria ripples through me as his tongue draws a slow, erotic path from my throbbing entrance to the pulsing pearl of my clit.
God, he’s playing dirty, and suddenly, I don’t know that I’ll be able to reopen the shop again today.
Because thelastthing I want is for him to stop.
21
GIO
“Come on, Jay! We’ve gotta go!” Stephanie calls up the stairs from the entry, and I can’t help but smile.
Dressed in a pair of Daisy Dukes, a Chicago Fire FC jersey shirt, and high-top All-Stars, she looks fit for our night out.
She also looks like she could still be in her teens, and I can’t deny that, even as the mother of a seven-year-old, Stephanie is in incredible condition.
But what has me smiling is the way she practically bounces on the balls of her feet with excitement—not for herself, but for Jackson, because this is going to be his first live professional soccer game.
And we’ve got midfield seats.
