She tugs at my shirt, and I pull it off, tossing it behind me. She stares at my chest, runs her hands over my abs, then lower. She wants me bad, and I want her worse.
I slide her panties down, slow, watching the way her thighs tremble. She’s already wet, dripping for me. I lick a stripe up her inner thigh, then blow cold air on her clit. She jerks, grabbing my head.
“Don’t tease,” she says, voice rough.
“You love when I tease.”
She moans, legs spreading wider. “I love when you fuck me.”
I lick her beautiful pussy and suck and flick her clit until she comes apart. But I’m not done.
I flip her onto her stomach and pull her ass up, just like she likes. I line up and push in, slow, letting her feel every inch. She gasps, face buried in the blanket, hands fisted in the fabric.
I pound into her, hard enough to shake the whole fucking gazebo. She tries to muffle her screams, but I know she wants to let them out.
I lean over her, hand on the back of her neck. “You’re so fucking good for me,” I whisper.
She pushes back, meeting every thrust.
I give her what she wants. I fuck her so hard the blanket slides on the wood. She’s loud, but I cover her mouth withmy hand so no one can hear her. Her eyes go wild, and I know she loves it.
“Take it,” I say, voice low in her ear. “Take all of me, baby.”
She comes so hard her whole body shakes. I keep going, chasing my own release. When I come, I grab her hip, digging in hard enough to leave marks. She moans into my hand, then goes limp, spent.
I pull out slowly, then lay down next to her, both of us breathing hard. She rolls onto her back, face flushed and eyes glassy.
“I hope no one else is out here,” she says, voice barely there.
I grin, brush the hair off her face. “You’re fucking perfect.”
She laughs, soft this time. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”
I pull her close, wrap her up in my arms, and stare out at the ocean. “Not today.”
She’s here, and that’s all I ever wanted.
34
Lila
The salesman’s voice fadesinto the background as I run my fingers along the smooth hood of the Subaru. Chameleon blue to purple, depending on how the light hits it. My car. Mine. Not Eli’s, not a rental, not borrowed from Mia or Valerie, mine. Five months of saving every penny from my paychecks at the print shop has led to this moment. My heart beats a little faster as I picture myself behind the wheel, windows down, answering to no one.
“Ms. Angelo? Did you hear what I said about the all-wheel drive system?” The salesman, Brad, according to his name tag. Steps closer, clipboard in hand.
“Sorry,” I say, offering a smile that feels only slightly forced. “I was just admiring the color.”
“It’s one of the rarest finishes. Changes like a mood ring, doesn’t it?” He taps the hood. “Want to takeher for a spin?”
I nod, suddenly unable to speak past the lump in my throat. This is happening. I’m buying a car. Such a normal thing for most people, but for me, it’s monumental. Another step away from the woman who needed Eli’s permission for everything.
Brad hands me the keys, and I close my fist around them, feeling the metal bite into my palm. Five months since the divorce was finalized. Five months of rebuilding my life piece by piece. Five months of Anthony.
Anthony. Even now, his name sends a flutter through my chest. After our first night together in January, I’d thought things would move quickly, that giddy rush of new love sweeping us along. But he surprised me, agreeing that we take things slow. “You’ve been through hell,” he said, holding me close in the gray morning light. “I don’t want to be just a reaction to that. I want to be a choice you make every day.”
So I stayed at Mia’s. We arranged to be roommates. I decorated my room with a new bedspread and curtains in shades of green that remind me of forests. Anthony and I have dinner together most nights, sometimes at his place, sometimes out. We go to movies and bookstores and dancing at the same club where we’d met in the VIP room. But most nights, I go back to Mia’s. Enjoying getting to know myself again.
It’s not that I don’t want to be with him all the time. God, I do, and the sex is incredible. Tender when I need it, rough whenever I want it, always exactly what I ask for and never too far. But there’s something healing in having my own space, in knowing I can walk away if I need to. Anthony understands that better than I do sometimes.
