Zoë opens her eyes, locking them with mine. The connection is electric. Everything she’s feeling is right there—trust, desire, love.
“I love you,” I tell her, the words coming easy now. “I love you so much.”
“I know,” she gasps as I hit a particularly deep spot. “I love you too.”
Reaching between us, I find her clit and rub slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of my thrusts. Her breath hitches as her inner muscles clamp down on me.
“Come for me, baby,” I urge. “Let me feel it.”
She does. Her back arches, head falling back, a cry tearing from her throat. I feel her pussy ripple around me—milking my cock, dragging me right to the edge with her.
“Fuck,” I grit out, my rhythm faltering. “Zoë.”
“Let go,” she says, cupping my face. “Come for me, Gio.”
Burying my face in her neck, I let go—one last deep thrust as I empty myself into the condom. The pleasure is blinding, white-hot, wiping everything else away.
We lie there afterward, hearts pounding in sync, the only sound our ragged breathing.
Eventually, I roll off her and deal with the condom, then pull her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. Zoë curls into me, her hand settling over my heart. The jersey is still on. She’s still wearing my name.
“Comfortable?” I ask, tracing the letters on her shoulder.
“Very,” she murmurs sleepily. “It’s soft.”
“It’s expensive mesh,” I say. “It should be.”
Her laughter vibrates against my chest. “You’re such a snob.”
“I’m a Rossi,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “It’s in the blood.”
“You’re just Gio now,” she says—teasing, but serious.
“Yeah,” I murmur, tightening my arm around her. “Just Gio.”
Looking around the room—the empty pizza box, the discarded clothes, the locked door—the world feels distant. I lost millions today. I lost a legacy. I lost the weight of a dynasty. But lying herewith Zoë warm and solid in my arms, wearing my number and my name, I know I won.
“Go to sleep, Zoë,” I whisper.
“Night, Gio,” she breathes.
She drifts off almost instantly, her breathing evening out. I stay awake a little longer, listening to her, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine.
For the first time in my life, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 39
Gio
The arena is a slaughterhouse of sound. Eighteen thousand people packed into the bowl, screaming, stamping, creating a wall of vibration that hits you in the chest before you even step onto the ice. Air hangs thick with the smell of beer, sweat, and cold.
This is it. The Frozen Four. Win or go home.
I stand at the tunnel entrance, staring out at the bright white surface. Lights blaze overhead, reflecting off the fresh sheet of ice. Energy in the building is frantic, a living, breathing thing that wants to consume us.
My lungs fill with the cold air as I take a deep breath. The static that usually lives in my head is gone. In its place is a strange, terrifying calm.
