Sienna listens without interrupting, her thumb gently stroking my neck’s pulse. When I finish, she lets out a small, thoughtful hum and tilts her head to look at me.
“You know,” she says softly. “I sometimes forget we have an age gap. Seven years, right? It doesn’t feel like it. You don’t feel older… you just feel steady. Like you’ve already survived the hard parts, and you’re still willing to jump anyway.”
I nod, pulling her a fraction closer. “Seven years. Not that it matters when you’re this close to me.”
She laughs softly, the sound vibrating pleasantly against my chest. “Smooth, Milo. But seriously, does the age gap between us ever bother you? You were my age when you started building your empire, and sometimes I feel like I’m too immature?—”
She’s worried about this? About me seeing her as too young, too wild, too unfinished?
The thought twists something protective in my chest.
Because the truth is the opposite.
Sienna’s chaos is what drew me in. It’s the way she dreams big and runs toward the unknown without first calculating the risk.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me want her even more.
“It doesn’t bother me,” I admit, my lips brushing her temple. “It turns me on, if I’m honest. You still see the world as full of possibilities, not spreadsheets and board meetings. That energy… it reminds me of what it felt like before I got jaded. You make me feel younger just by being next to me.”
Her eyes search mine, a playful glint in them. “So, our age gap is hot to you, huh?”
I chuckle, dipping my head to brush a teasing kiss just below her ear. “Definitely hot. I like knowing I can steady you… and then watch you light the whole damn world on fire anyway.”
She bites her lip as a flush creeps up her neck. “God, that’s annoyingly sexy. You’re making it really hard to remember why I ever thought running was safer than staying.”
My chest tightens at her admission. She’s scared. I can feel it in the slight tremble of her fingers and the way her breath catches. But she’s still here, letting me hold her, and that trust… it’s more intoxicating than anything I’ve ever known.
Looking at her, I can’t help but think I want to be the man she deserves. The one steady enough for her chaos and wild enough for her dreams. Seven years between us suddenly feels like nothing, like the perfect amount of time to have lived enough, built enough, and lost enough to know exactly how rare someone like Sienna is.
The song ends, but we don’t move right away. Sienna looks up at me, then rises onto her toes and kisses me softly. When she pulls back, she’s smiling like she’s keeping the sweetest secret.
“Come on,” she finally says, tugging my hand with a mischievous grin. “I think it’s time we head back to the villa. I can’t look at you in that pineapple shirt for another second without wanting to rip it off and trace my tongue along every inch of you.”
I follow her without hesitation, my fingers laced tightly with hers.
Because wherever Sienna Harlow goes, I’m starting to realize I’ll gladly follow.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Milo
We barely makeit past the threshold when Sienna spins me around and pulls me into a kiss that’s all teeth, tongue, and raw hunger.
I groan into her mouth, hands locking onto her hips as I pull her flush against me so she can feel exactly how hard I’ve been for hours. She rolls her body against mine, grinding her heat right over my aching cock. The friction drags another ragged sound from deep in my throat.
“Fuck, Sienna…” I rasp against her lips.
She doesn’t answer with words. Her hands shove at my shirt, impatient and greedy, until it hits the floor. The second my chest is bare, her nails rake down my skin, sending sparks racing along every nerve.
Her thumbs tease my nipples into peaks before her mouth follows with hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat, her teeth grazing my pulse. I tilt my head for more access.
My hands are just as restless. They roam over her, tracing the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the curve of her ass. I squeeze, then harder, pulling her against me again and again, unable to get close enough.
I can’t stop touching her.
Every inch of her body calls to me.
“You’ve been killing me all night,” she breathes against my neck, her voice shaky. “Milo, I’ve been…God, I can’t even think straight.”
