He makes love to me. That's the only way to describe it.
Not fucking. Not desperate sex. Not confirming we're alive.
Love. Tender. Sweet. Intimate.
He touches me like I'm precious. Like I matter. Like I'm more than just his wife or his weapon or his anything.
Like I'm Gemma. And that's enough.
When we're done, we lie tangled together. Sweaty. Satisfied. At peace.
"Business school," he says. "My wife is going to business school."
"Your wife is getting her MBA."
"My brilliant, strategic, dangerous wife is getting her MBA." He kisses my shoulder. "And running legitimate businesses."
"And you're okay with this? Really okay?"
"I'm terrified." He's honest. "But yes. I'm okay with it. Because it's what you want. And making you happy is more important than controlling you."
"That might be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."
"I'm full of surprises."
We lie there in comfortable silence.
"Thank you," I say again. "For punching Adrian."
"It was my pleasure. Literally. I've been wanting to kick his ass since that first dinner."
I laugh. "I thought that life was over after that dinner."
He stiffens, just slightly. "I shouldn't?—"
I know what he's thinking, and I sit up slightly. "Don't," I say. "We were both forced into things we aren't responsible for. We figured it out, and now, all we can do is move forward."
"Don't absolve me."
I shake my head. "I'm not," I say. "I simply don't blame you. I love you Saint. It's probably fucking crazy that we've come this far, but it is what it is, and I don't want to examine it too hard."
I don't see the point. Saint was forced by Antonio to bed and wed me, and my family is responsible for allowing it.
But Saint and I are responsible for what happened after, especially now, and I don't want to dwell on it.
"I'm still going to be possessive. And protective. And probably controlling sometimes," Saint says. "I'm not perfect."
"I know. And I'm still going to fight you. And push back. And demand my space. I'm not perfect."
He laughs, holding me tightly.
"Sounds exhausting."
"Sounds fun."
He laughs. Really laughs. "Yeah. It does."
I snuggle closer. Safe. Loved. Free.
