“I only come in you.”
My chest tightens. In a really good way. “What did he say to you?”
A smile twitches his lips, and he rubs it away. “He told me not to fuck this up.”
“There’s no way you could—”
“I love you.” He stands and removes his jeans and briefs. “I’ve loved you for months.” He stalks toward me, eyes full of conviction and promise.
My heart swells with aching joy, and my eyes prick with tears. I scoot backward, inching toward the headboard, lost in his gaze.
“I love you in this moment.” He crawls onto the mattress, chasing me with calculated slowness. “I’ll love you in every moment that follows, every month, every year, for a million light years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It won’t be long enough.” He grips my ankle and yanks me beneath him, staring at me for a span of several heartbeats. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
My face crumples as I fight back tears. “Stop making me cry and fuck me.”
He bares his teeth in a predatory smile and slams his mouth against mine. Tongues collide, fingers entwine, and soul meets soul. He’s a feeling I’ve never felt. An emotion without limits. An agreement that doesn’t expire. He’s the only place I want to be.
I breathe in his scent—the earthy, elemental aroma of home and him. He rests his palm on my cheek and kisses me until I’m breathless, mindless, and insane with need.
He’s so hot and hard between my legs, and I’m soaked from the inside out. So when he finally presses against me, my body sucks him in, and we both groan.
“I love you,” I breathe against his lips.
“I know.” He thrusts and doesn’t waste time setting a pace that crashes the headboard against the wall.
I scream his name as he plows me into the mattress. I whisper his name between toe-curling kisses. His name rides on my breaths as I surrender to him, arch beneath him, and follow him into a grunting, panting, body-trembling orgasm.
Sated and listless, we lie in a tangle of sweaty limbs and thumping heartbeats. We’re so intertwined I don’t know where I end and he begins. It makes me smile a smile I feel everywhere, and I press that smile against the warm skin of his neck, sharing it with him.
“You let Reese suck your cock.” My smile widens.
“I’ve found I have no limits with you.”
I lean up, sobering as I meet his eyes. “I won’t abuse that.”
“I know.” His thumb traces the curve of my mouth.
“I mean it, Decker. It was selfish of me to demand that of you when I met you. I will never do that again.”
His lashes sink half-mast. “Come here.” He guides my face back to his neck.
I curl up against his chest and wrap my legs around his. “I want to do something for you. Anything. What do you need?”
“Eat. Sleep. Love my girl. Repeat.” He strokes a hand through my hair. “That’s all I need.”
CHAPTER 25
LAYNEE
Six months later
Sometimes it’s easy to forget how I became Decker Gabrielli’s girlfriend.
A profile with expectations and limits.
A binding legal agreement.
An exclusive company called Infidelity.
It all began one year ago today, which is why I’m on the phone with Karen Flores, sitting in the car with my driver instead of heading inside where I want to be. With my boyfriend.
“I was right.” Barely restrained smugness teases through Karen’s voice.
“I bet you love saying that.”
“I say it a lot, but you didn’t believe me.”
“What do you want?” I sigh into the phone. “An apology?”
“If my memory’s correct, you called me a bitch.”
I cringe. Yeah, I might’ve used that word the night I tried to break the agreement.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve never gone off on you like that. You were right, and I was wrong. Really, really wrong.” My tone is sincere, because I feel like a huge asshole. “He’s everything, Karen. You couldn’t have chosen a better man for me. I couldn’t have chosen a better man. So I’m asking you to accept my apology and allow me to buy out the agreement. Pretty please with dollar signs on top.”
“Consider it done. I’ll forward the final paperwork to Reese Cromwell.”
“Thank you.” A feeling of weightlessness settles through me. “Thank you for everything. You changed my life.”
“Glad to hear it, Miss Somerset. You’re welcome.”
I end the call and toss my phone in my bag. “I’m ready.”
Rachel shifts in the driver seat and peers back at me. “Sure you don’t want to go through the back door?”
I lean against the window and spot a dozen men and women near the front door of the building, holding markers, glossy photos, movie posters, and other memorabilia. “They look harmless. I’ll be fine.”
Brushing a hand through my hair, I don’t look down at my workout clothes, which consists of a revealing sports bra and spandex shorts. I’m still not used to baring my scars in public, but day by day, it’s getting easier.