Chapter 27 Gio
GIO
The building itself could come crumbling down around us and I wouldn’t care.
Knowing she’s so swept up in the moment, she doesn’t hesitate when I tell her we’re having unprotected sex—God, it turns me on.
The feeling of being inside her raw—bare skin meeting warm, wet arousal and the cum from her first orgasm—brings to life an animal kind of instinct in me.
I want to claim her, possess her, mark her in a way so permanent that everyone will know she belongs to me.
And as I thrust inside her tight, glorious pussy, the thought of seeing her belly swollen and glowing with the aftermath of this moment nearly sends me over the edge.
It’s going to take every ounce of discipline I possess to pull out. But for Stephanie, I would do anything.
She’s the only thing that matters, and the fact that she didn’t kick me out of her store when she learned the truth has to mean something. If she’s going to give me another chance, I won’t squander it.
Lifting her up off the counter, I turn, stepping forward until her back meets the wall.
Stephanie gasps, clenching around me as we rock together, my hips plunging up to fill her as she grinds against me.
And as we make passionate love, it feels so incredibly right to be with her—the real her.
This is the woman I fell in love with ten years ago.
I can feel it in every touch, every kiss.
The weight of our connection settles over us like a blanket, warm and welcoming and familiar.
We’ve had sex more times than I can count since she waltzed back into my life. But today is different.
This, now, is the unfettered devotion of two people who were ripped apart and have only just returned to one another after an eternity apart.
Stephanie’s fingers tangle in my hair, her lips devouring mine as I hold her close and drive into her at the same time.
I can feel her tightening around me, the pulse of her body that tells me she’s close, and it’s agonizing to try delaying my release as I drive inside her, unable to hold back.
“I’m gonna come,” I rasp, tension prickling at the base of my spine.
“Oh, God, don’t stop,” she moans. “Please, Gio.”
“Stephanie.” I growl a warning, my cock so hard it’s painful as I slide in and out of her gloriously wet pussy.
She gasps, her heels digging into my back as her body tenses—then bursts to life around me, her clit fluttering against the base of my shaft, her walls rippling along my length.
I groan, trying to pull out, but her legs are too tight around me.
“I’m coming,” I breathe, but she doesn’t release me, and the silent communication is all it takes.
Slamming inside her to the hilt, I come hard, burst after burst flooding her channel.
With a groan, I drop my head against the wall by her ear, and we pant, our breaths mingling as we finish together.
Stephanie quivers in my arms, and slowly, I slide out of her as I ease her back onto her feet.
She looks up at me with those impossibly green eyes, her short, wispy dark hair—flecked with color—falling into her face.
A tangle of arms and legs, we’re still wearing half our clothes in the aftermath of our desperation to be with each other, and a soft smile curves my lips when I see Stephanie’s perfectly mussed state.
We haven’t fucked like that in a long time—maybe ever. And I feel almost lightheaded with the intensity of my relief—of knowing just how good we are together.
I’m starting to believe we will always be able to find our way back to one another, no matter the obstacle.
Though I don’t want to test the theory.
“I love you,” I murmur, cupping her jaw and running the pad of my thumb over her rosy cheek. “I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, and I’ll love you until the day I die.”
Stephanie hesitates, and my heart stutters when I see fresh tears pooling in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, chest gripped in a vise as I search her gaze for the answer.
“I… love you too,” she whispers tearfully.
I can’t help but laugh, something inside me easing ever so slightly. “Shouldn’t that be a good thing?” I tease. “So, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
Dropping her gaze, Stephanie disentangles herself from me, and my pulse quickens as the silence stretches between us.
“I do love you, Gio. But I can’t be with you,” she says after she’s put several feet of distance between us, and this time, when she turns to meet my gaze, she is crying.
“Why?” I rasp, my throat raw with emotion.
“I have Jackson to think about now, and his safety is my number-one priority,” she says, sniffing as she brusquely swipes at her tears.
“Clearly, you still have enemies,” she adds, gesturing toward the shop door to indicate she’s talking about Kenji.
“And we both know what could happen to me or Jackson if anyone found out we mean something to you. Look at what happened before.” She shakes her head, her gaze dropping as she picks at some dirt under her nails.
“If it were just me, I might be willing to risk it. But I can’t put my son in danger to be with you. I just can’t.”
Two things hit home hard and simultaneously.
First, that she’s right.
I can’t promise her safety when I couldn’t protect her before.
And second, she specifically called Jackson her son—which means, even with the return of her memories, she doesn’t believe I’m his father.
It’s agonizing to think about why she might believe that. To consider who could have done what to her to convince her otherwise.
Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow it down as I return to the truth of how horribly I failed her.
Nothing I ever do could make up for that.
And still, she says that she might consider risking it all again to be with me—if we lived in another world, where she didn’t have to worry about Jackson’s safety.
I wonder just how sincerely she means that.
Because if that’s all it takes to be with her, I would fly her and Jackson to the damn moon to be with them.
“Would you feel the same way if I were willing to give it all up to be with you? We could run away together, start somewhere fresh, like you always talked about. We could go somewhere I could find a job as a straight-laced citizen,” I offer, stepping toward her to try and close the distance, a sad smile touching my lips as
I use the words she always did in her spiel to convince me to leave with her.
God, if I could turn back time, I would do it in a second.
I would give up the money, my family, my name—anything it took to have those eight years with her.
“I would love Jackson like my own son.
Hell, I already do, Stephanie,” I promise, extending my hand to her in supplication. “Please…” Just please don’t send me away.
“And what would happen to my flower shop?” she asks, glancing around the vibrant space.
“I’ve sunk every spare dime I have into building this business.
” She shakes her head, the tears coming faster now.
“I’m not the girl I was before, Gio. I have responsibilities, obligations, a life.
I can’t just pull Jackson out of school and uproot his life.
And…” Stephanie shakes her head again, stepping back from me as she drops her gaze like she can’t bring herself to finish what she was going to say.
“And what?” I press softly. I can feel the tremulous vibration in the air, threatening to shatter my glass heart.
“I just can’t trust you like I once did. I can’t walk away from the life I’ve built for you. I just… can’t.” The pain that flashes across her face is palpable, and I know it’s hurting her to tell me no.
But the agony it unleashes inside me is near crippling.
And what’s worse is that the more I fight it, the longer I stay, the more pain I cause her.
It’s the last thing I want to do.
It goes against all my instincts, and every fiber of my being screams for me to stop as soon as I nod.
“Okay,” I say, my heart breaking.
I take one step closer to her, and when Stephanie doesn’t move away again, I gently reach up to trap her chin between my thumb and finger. It quivers, and her lips press into a line as she swallows hard.
“If you ever need me—for anything—I’ll be there,” I promise.
I lean in, stealing one last lingering kiss, and her lips are so excruciatingly soft and inviting, it takes every ounce of my self-control to pull away again.
Then I release her, taking a deep breath as I step back. And with a final nod, I turn.
I’m halfway to the door when Stephanie calls my name, stopping me in my tracks.
For one heart-stopping moment, I think she might tell me she’s changed her mind—that we’ll figure things out.
But when I turn, I can see the grim set of her jaw, and I know.
She’s not going to change her mind.
“That guy who was in my shop earlier?” she says, a tremor in her voice.
My heart thuds against my ribs at the mere mention of Kenji, and I know—as agonizing as it is—that Stephanie’s right to keep her distance from me. “Yeah?”
“He said he was buying those flowers for a funeral,” she says, her expression grave and pale. “So, if they were intended for you…”
I give one curt nod. “Thanks for the heads up.”