Page 72 of Out of Control

Because this can never go anywhere. Because you’re you and I’m me and this would never be approved of in a million years.

“Because you just got home and we have more important things to do.” I infuse happiness into my voice as he shuffles about behind me.

“Like?” he asks as he steps in behind me, presses his body against mine, and nuzzles my neck.

“We have work to do.”

“Work?” His hands slide beneath my shirt, the paint there dry and crackly when he cups my breasts, which are already needy with desire.

I sigh and sag against him, my head dropping back to his shoulder. “Lots and lots of work,” I murmur.

“Sofia?” he asks with his lips kissing down the curve of my shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t give a fuck who your family is. What they have. Their history. But how they treat you matters to me. This? Right here? It matters too. You’re who matters.”

I turn to face him, tears welling in my eyes—unsure of their root cause—and meet his soft smile. “You’re what matters too.”

He rubs his thumb back and forth over my collarbone. It makes me feel so small and makes him seem so strong. It’s silly and not even true, but I still like it. I still lean into it.

“Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“The best part about fighting?” He leans in and brushes his lips against mine. “Is seeing just how good the making up part is.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” I ask. “Making up?”

“Bellissima, I’ll say we’re doing whatever it is you want to do so long as you keep touching me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Sofia

“Talk to me. You’ve gone radio silent. Either the gallery is so all-consuming you can’t see straight or . . .”

“Or?”

“Or you’re being sexed so good you’re forgetting to call your friend.”

I adjust the back of my lounge chair so I’m facing the sun more, fix my bikini bottoms, and take a seat. “What about all of the above?” I grin. It feels good to be able to talk to somebody I trust about this. Somebody I know won’t blab to the media for a quick paycheck.

“You know what? I had like five things I could have said but I’m going to say the one that’s the most important. Good for you. You deserve someone who makes you feel good about yourself and who you are.”

“It’s been . . . fun.”

She barks out a laugh. “I hope so. If not, he’s doing it all wrong.”

“Whatever.” I wave a hand she can’t see. “It’s just been fun to enjoy someone else and find out what makes them laugh, what turns them on, what . . . who they are when the world sees them as someone else. And by the same token, it’s incredible to be enjoyed by someone else. And to . . . I don’t know, have someone in this new city who’s not my brother.”

“I thought you had plenty of friends there.”

“I do, but no one to cuddle up with and watch old movies.”

“You’re telling me that’s what you choose to do with that fine-as-fuck man of yours? Watch movies?” She chuckles.

“No. I assure you we do more than that.”