Chapter 38
Tessa
Lamont’s ringtone jolts me awake. On reflex, I reach for it and pick it up off the nightstand.
“Hello?” I answer groggily, eyes still closed.
Gio rumbles beside me, tugging on my free arm and trying to lower me back to him. My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. Why is Lamont calling me this early?
“Tessa. Pick up the garments for next week’s shoot. They’re at Cattaneo’s. But make it quick, I need them by ten.”
“Okay…” I wait for a moment before I realize he hung up already.
“Gio. Gio.” I push on his chest to wake him. “Gio. I have to get to… well, your shop.” I give him a wry grin, amused by the irony of it all.
“It’s not even a work day. And you don’t have to do anything except be with me,” he growls in a raspy voice. He tugs at my arm again, eyes still closed.
“Santerre isn’t a guarantee, and I want to do my job well in the meantime.”
His eyes blink open, adjusting to the light peeking in from the windows. He smiles when his gaze lands on me. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of him looking at me this way. How just the sight of my face brightens his features.
This time when Gio tugs on my arm, I go willingly and melt into his chest. He presses a sleepy kiss to my cheek, and I nuzzle his nose. His hand snakes up my bare back until he reaches my bra strap. He unhooks it and strokes my back, trailing his fingers slowly up and down my spine.
I smile. “I could get used to this.”
His lips find my collarbone. “I already am, Tèssa. I don’t ever want to wake up without you ever again.” He drags his lips down my chest, in between my breasts, before scooting further down under the cover.
“Gio,” I groan. “I’m not sure we have time.”
He chuckles into my stomach and looks up at me. “Let me keep my promise to you.”
I think back to that night at the hotel. I want to eat this every day. You’ll let me, right?
My face heats, and Gio clocks it a mile away. He presses a kiss to the top of my pussy, then gives an exaggerated pout. “You don’t want to come on my tongue?”
Glancing at the nightstand clock, and then back at Gio between my thighs, I come to the quick conclusion that time is a construct and spread my legs to give him more room. He responds with an open-mouthed kiss on my clit.
“I love it when we’re on the same side,” he murmurs, dipping his tongue inside me.
I sigh, completely relaxed. “Gio, that feels so good.”
“You feel good, Cara.” He swipes two fingers through my center. “You’re soaked. It’s my job to take care of this, hm?”
I nod. He starts teasing my clit, sliding his thumb across it before making small swirling motions.
I feel my arousal drip down my thighs and he applies just the right amount of pressure to get me there.
My head lolls back when he replaces his fingers with his tongue and circles my drenched bud.
Everything feels so wonderfully warm and hazy.
I’m completely out of my head, savoring every second, because I know that Gio will make me come.
He hums against me, taking his time, and pressure starts to build in my belly.
God, he always gets me there so fast. I roll my hips, knowing I can’t hold off much longer.
With a hand on my lower stomach, Gio presses me back down into the bed, fixing me in place.
Then, he slowly thrusts two of his fingers inside of me and sucks my clit.
My thighs start to shake as an orgasm washes over me.
Rush after rush of pleasure surges through my body.
Gio continues to lick me, softer now, over and over again.
And when I come down from my high, I feel the bed moving back and forth from his movements. It’s almost as if he’s thrusting into the mattress. His muscles go taut, and he groans my name, giving me one last lick before lifting his head.
I start wiggling down the bed at the same time he moves up toward me. He puts a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back.
I shake my head. “I want to make you come now.”
He presses his lips to my cheek. “No need.”
“Gio, don’t be polite. I want to suck you off. It’s your turn.”
“First of all, the concept of ‘turns’ doesn’t exist with me. You don’t owe me anything. Ever. And I already came.” He pauses. “I’ll put the sheets in the washing machine before we leave. Is there anything of yours that you want washed?”
His offer to do my laundry almost makes me want to come again, but I calm the urge. “You… already came?”
Gio looks amused. “You have no idea, do you?”
“About what?”
“About how much I have to physically hold myself back so I don’t come immediately whenever we start fooling around.”
I blink. “But… I didn’t even touch you. You came from just eating me out?”
“You said we had to hurry, so I let my body give in for once.” He kisses my hand and sits up. “We should really get going, though. Don’t want to make you late.”
My jaw remains slightly ajar at this revelation as we both get out of bed. I choose an easy, black, long-sleeved shift dress for the day. For once, being an overpacker worked to my advantage.
I fasten my bra and pull the dress over my head. “You’re right. I heard the tailor takes forever with his appointments, and I don’t have one. So I already know it’ll be a long day of arguing.”
He shoots me a playful glare, zipping up his pants. “Even when we bickered, I enjoyed your company.”
“Aw, that’s kind of twistedly sweet.” I pull on a pair of knee high socks. “One day, I’d love to hear more of the reasons behind your mayhem.”
He chuckles, and we both finish getting ready.
I style my hair in the bedroom while he turns on the coffee maker in the kitchen.
Then, we brush our teeth next to each other in the bathroom, before grabbing some tree-nut free granola bars and filling our travel mugs. Everything feels so natural with him.
We have about fifteen minutes to spare, so Gio brings his coffee to the side table by the couch. He leans back and sinks into the cushions. I follow him and do the same.
He picks up his mug and takes a sip of his drink. “That could be fun, actually. To tell you the reasons behind some of my ‘chaotic choices,’ as you so lovingly put it.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Fun for who? Me or you?”
He grins. “Maybe both. When were you the most annoyed with me?”
I set my mug on the coffee table. “Toss up among three things.”
“The first?”
“When you asked that I refer to you only as Signore Cattaneo.”
He bursts out laughing. I glare at him while he sets down his mug to avoid spilling his drink.
I pretend to be mad, crossing my arms, but I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “I’m glad my suffering is hilarious to you. Why’d you do that one?”
“No reason. Just because I thought it was funny,” he wheezes in between guffaws of laughter.
I pick up a pillow and chuck it at his face, but he ducks, narrowly avoiding the hit. Looking me dead in the eyes, he solemnly recites, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
“Of course, now would be the time you get an idiom correct.” I groan. “I mean, good for you. You probably don’t have that many years left with your brain at full capacity. Small wins should be celebrated.”
“You’ll pay for that!” he shouts, tackling me to the couch and trapping my hands on either side of me.
“Oh yeah? How so?”
He presses a hard kiss to my lips.
“Oh. Well, if that’s the punishment… You’re so old, your first pet was a pterodactyl.”
He kisses me harder, sucking on my lower lip.
“Tell me, was the variety of Eve’s forbidden apple Granny Smith or MacIntosh?”
He nips my lower lip.
“Ow! Fine, you win.” I reach up and push his face away.
“Thank you.” He smiles, giving me a peck on the cheek. Pushing off the couch with his arms and sitting up again, he asks, “Well? What was the next one?”
“Oh. When you wore those Lamont-wannabe tinted glasses for a week.” I snort. “Joke’s on you though, they were hideous. Probably just another time you thought messing with me was funny, right?”
He gives me a lopsided grin, shaking his head. “Nah, I did that one because they made you smile.”
I pull his face to mine for another kiss. “Last one. What about the embroidered swatches? The ones you designed with the veiled insults just to irritate me?”
Gio shrugs. “Honestly, Cara? I’m a creative person. I just wanted to give you something I made.”
My jaw drops. “Oh my God. You penguined me?”
He raises an eyebrow. “What about penguins?”
“The male penguin gives the female penguin little pebbles when he’s courting her. Like gifts. I saw it in a documentary that Grace made me watch once.”
Gio’s brows knit together. “I’m not a penguin.”
I point a finger to his chest. “Admit it. You penguined me.”
“Fine. I penguined you.” He glances down for a moment, before looking back at me. “Did you, ah, keep them?”
I smile. “I kept every one. Just like the female penguin does with the rocks.”
“I guess you penguined me, too, then.” He checks his watch. “We should get going.”
We get up and grab our things. He locks the door behind us and reaches for me. The journey to his shop is quiet as we walk hand-in-hand, and I wonder if we’re each reflecting on what it was like before. I check in with myself. No nerves, no dread, no anger. No need to channel inner peace.
Once we arrive at Cattaneo’s, he unlocks the door and holds it open for me.
“No bell?” I ask, wondering where the above-the-door chime went.
“I took it down before we left. Didn’t seem worth the hassle anymore.”
I grin and walk further into his shop, thinking back on all of his small moments of thoughtfulness early on in our relationship.
After so long in Italy, the familiar scent of the shop welcomes me home. Laundered clothes, leather, steam, cedarwood. I take a deep breath.