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It’s not the orgasm. No, instead it’s a deep knowledge that I’ve been denying myself all variations of love because I didn’t feel I deserved it. Every person before Gio was who I thought I deserved. Less than. But he is more, so much more.

Most of all, Gio makes me want more for myself. He makes me want to scour the world and take what’s mine. He makes me want everything.

“You did it, my greedy girl. I knew you would. So goddamn perfect. So fucking beautiful.” He kisses my jaw, my shoulder, and then my lips.

In the aftermath, I open my eyes in a haze of tranquility and enlightenment.

I deserve pleasure. I always have.

Gio removes his hand. It glistens in the moonlight. Then I watch with rapt attention as he tastes each finger.

He tastes me.

“Mmm.” He moans like I’m the most delicious dessert on the planet.

Behind the fringe of his lashes, a devilish sparkle emerges. His grin might erase all former words of hate for him. Might.

Until he says, “Tastes like . . . you really like me. Tastes like I’m ready to sleep in your bed,” he purrs.

I laugh from the relief of coming and the absolute injustice of him being the one to make it happen. Because of this and our ever-changing labels for each other—enemies, friends, lovers—and because I can’t think of a better comeback, I lean in and playfully nip his nose.

He yowls, flips me over, and pins me to the couch. Our wrestling continues until we’re kissing and tugging at each other’s hair, back to balancing between pleasure and pain.

I grab his hardness, wanting to reciprocate the same relief. I need to watch him come undone for me too.

“No way,” he says with a chuckle. “Not when you’re biting body parts.”

I laugh. “I promise to be on my best behavior.” I snap my teeth just for his appalled reaction.

But now we’re giggling and panting, and the fuel to fight is running low.

He nips at my bottom lip. “Not tonight, hell kitten. By my count, you have a decade of missed orgasms, and my mission is to get you up to speed. So, let me know when you’re ready for another round.” He kisses me.

Gio makes good on his promise. But the next time is in my bed with him hovering over me. His fingers produce magic between my thighs, and something else more dangerous flutters in my heart.

37/

giovanni

Almost Mine

Being with Sophia in new ways is all I can think about, which is why I lose my mind and answer my phone without looking at the caller’s name.

“Look here, asshole, we have an arrangement. I find you gigs, and you jump at every opportunity I present. You say thank you, and we repeat the process over and over,” a voice booms from the other side.

I cringe and drop my forehead into my hand. Standing, I move to leave the couch, where I was failing to pay attention to Casey’s daily meeting. She was explaining the challenges of this afternoon’s event, while I was dreaming about Sophia.

Who’s the slacker now? In this new strange world, it isn’t Matt. It’s me.

I pace the room. “Hello to you, Ter-Bear.”

My friend’s dad hates the nickname, but then, I hate being told how to live my life, even if we have an “arrangement.”

“I’m sorry, maybe I have the wrong number. I thought this was the little dickhead who begged me to represent him. I wonder if he remembers those sad days?” Terry asks.

I try not to remember. Back then, I was living out of my car and sneaking into swanky city gyms to shower. Every bit of money I made at the restaurant was spent on ingredients to shoot low-brow content. My saint of a boss allowed me stay after hours and use the kitchen as long as I cleaned up. Every day was a struggle to keep my head above water.

Terry took pity on me, with some persuasion from his son, my culinary school buddy, Terrance Harry, Jr. No other agent in their right mind would have taken on someone so green. I know what a lucky break that was.