Chapter 21

I wake in the early morning light entangled in Jake’s limbs and bedsheets. My body is aching and heavy from everything he’s done to me through the night. I can’t help but smile at the memories, a warm blush traveling over my sensitive skin.

If I thought Jake had a high sex drive when he was dating his string of floozies, I have severely underestimated him. Last night, he’d been addicted to my body, barely giving me time to recover. He’d been true to his promise and brought me to dizzying heights of orgasm more than once with his expertise and confidence in pleasuring me. There is not a single inch of my skin he has not kissed, licked, or massaged softly, and I finally passed out from exhaustion rather than his wavering libido. My brain was too dizzy to function anymore. My Casanova is truly a master in the bedroom with the confidence of a man with no sexual inhibitions. I am glowing all over.

Old Emma has been reborn.

Managing to free myself from his arms and slide out without waking him, I stand by the bed in all my glory and gaze at him for a moment. His beautiful body is sprawled out, possessing the bed in the way he possessed me over and over. My heart swells to almost bursting, and I know I’m smiling like an idiot.

I love him more than words can ever express.

His almost-black hair is messily ruffled, his dark lashes closed on flawless tanned skin, that designer stubble sexily hot against crisp white sheets. He looks like the cover of an erotica book with his naked torso and tattooed shoulders carved in perfection, and yet, he is all mine. It takes my breath away.

How did I ever manage to get him? To win his heart? I must be dreaming.

My head is still reeling over the fact that I’m here and with him. I’m in his apartment after sharing his bed all night, and he has told me so many times already that he loves me.

Jake Carrero loves me, Emma Anderson, a nobody PA from a nothing existence. Jake Carrero, the infamous playboy heartbreaker, actually fell in love…with me.

Ti Amo.

Maybe I should learn Italian, so I can understand the many pet names he’s bestowed on me now. I’d like to know what he’s calling me. I giggle inwardly to myself.

I go to the bathroom to shower so that I’ll look fresh when he wakes up. I’m tired and should be asleep, but my body is hyperactively awake, still tingling from his touch, mouth, and lovemaking. The downside to being with a specimen like him is it makes me feel a little like an ugly duckling in comparison, especially when last night’s makeup was first cried off and then sweated all over me through vigorous pursuits. I’m sure my hair has seen better days, and the fright awaiting me in the mirror is not worthy of someone like Jake.

I stand under the water jets with my head tilted up, so they block everything out, noises, thoughts, and bodily aches, and I revel in the heat and pounding massage it gives me. For the first time in my life, my thoughts are completely blank, and there’s nothing, no doubts, no niggles, no insecurities, no memories, or anything of the sort. I just feel at peace. I feel peaceful and something else, a small, lifted weightlessness deep inside of me that I can only describe as contentment.

Who is this new person?

There’s a small draft behind me as the shower door opens, and a grin spreads across my face immediately. I know his presence; I could feel him feet away without even trying. His hands come around me from behind, his hard, chiseled body against my back, as he joins me under the huge water jets, his mouth instantly on my neck, teasing me gently as I surrender body and soul.

“Hey there, beautiful. Mind if I join you?” He sounds hoarse and tired but utterly adorable.

“Bit late for asking, don’t you think?” I wiggle my butt into his groin, and he responds with a vengeance, a hardening I cannot ignore. Despite the number of times he’s had me already, I also react, my insides clenching with desire as heat rises within, and I turn in his arms to capture his mouth. Feeling brave, I run my hands over him, then push him back hard against the tiles and launch myself at him. He seems momentarily shocked, then grins, his pupils dilating almost instantly. He picks me up under the thighs, so my legs wrap around him, every naked inch to every naked inch, and walks me forward so my back is against cool tiles as water pours over us.

“Better hold on, Mio Amore,” he growls low and gruff, almost threatening, “This is going to be memorable.” His eyes are heavy with longing as I bite his lip and suck it in response and lose myself in his low groan.

***

We’re lying on his bed again; I’m loosely held in his arm as we stare at the ceiling in companionable silence. I’m content and truly happy for the first time in my life. We’re saying nothing, just lying side by side, his hand twirling a strand of my hair and gazing up, finally sated, and it feels like perfection. It only took half a dozen times, in as many hours, before he finally stopped wanting sex every time we stilled to catch our breath. My body is tingling in ways I never knew it could. Any embarrassment at being naked with him is gone, just sheer euphoria and exhaustion in its place. Months of pent-up frustration have finally been realized, and now here we are, comfortably silent and entwined as we recover.

I can hear Nora in the kitchen making us lunch; it’s late morning, and the sounds of her clanging pots and the low mumble of the television she has on seem homely. The blinds are shut, the room is still dim, but everything feels right like I’m finally where I belong. Like I waited my whole life to find myself exactly here in this time and place with him.

“I can’t imagine anywhere else I would rather be right now,” he says softly, as though reading my mind, his eyes coming to rest on my profile adoringly.

“Not missing your big-busted, casual sex, then?” I tease, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He watches me, a smile moving across his mouth as he shakes his head.

“Not one of them compares to you in any way, Emma. They never did, Amante. Besides, these are pretty big if you ask me.” He cups my breast, leans forward so our noses touch with a wicked gleam in his eye, and brushes them together softly. I giggle and slap his hand softly. “You’re my everything,” he soothes with serious intensity.

“No, Jake, you’re mine,” I answer tenderly, my eyes filling with moisture at just how romantic my Casanova can be; he knows exactly what to say to me. I feel that tugging ache going off inside me again, which I am starting to recognize as love pangs.

“Do you want to come somewhere with me today?” he asks, his eyes still locked on mine, unmoving. Our bodies are linked at the legs and torso, arms casually intertwined.

“An adventure? With you? How could I resist?” I smile genuinely. The longing to wrap myself around him again rises in me as he leans in and gently kisses me on the mouth, yet seductively enough to fill me with heat once more.

I’ll never tire of this or his need to feel my lips on his. It’s as though they were made to fit mine perfectly.

“I need to be with you. All of this seems like a dream; I’m scared I’ll wake up. I just want to take you out, away from here, away from a bed,” he says in a husky voice as his eyes glint sexily, “I want to feel like we’re actually real…not just sex.”

“You want to spend a day not having sex? Are you ill?” I laugh in disbelief, feeling his forehead for temperature. He slides a hand down under the sheets and cups me at the apex of my thighs to prove he’s not sick, then pulls away with a dirty look and a smirk.

How he could even have anything left after the last few hours’ performance is beyond me.

He seems shy and awkward suddenly, not a Jake trait at all, as the humor drops away.

“I know it sounds stupid, but this whole ‘serious’ thing…it’s a long-forgotten memory. I need some practice at having a girlfriend. I’m worried I may keep you naked in my bed indefinitely, bambina.” He grins again, moving to lie on top of me, his weight pressing me into the bed, and he gently kisses me again, his fingers playing in my hair. “I’ve never really had to evaluate what a real relationship is like; I have no idea what I’m doing.” He leans his chin on my chest and looks up at me cutely with a face that could melt the most frozen of hearts. I am so besotted with his face.

“I never imagined you could be so cute.” I giggle. “This is all new for me too. I was eighteen when I last had a boyfriend, and I never exactly had a steady or normal relationship.” I smile down at him and stroke my fingertips across his ruffled hair.

“Uh-uh. Nope.” He covers my mouth with his palm so quickly that I almost jump at the sudden contact. “You were an untouched virgin who’s never had a single boyfriend in her life, lived like a nun.” He moves over me so he’s hovering above my head. “I was your first everything and will be your last everything, too.” The wicked look in his eyes doesn’t fully hide that tiny hint of seriousness, and I pull his hand off my mouth, amused at this flash of jealousy.

“So, it’s okay for you to have been a man-whore, but I’m a pure, untouched maiden?” I laugh at him, shaking my head.

“I was a virgin too; all those girls were just all smoke and mirrors. I was keeping myself for you.” He grins and nuzzles my neck, pushing me back into the mess of pillows.

“Of course, they were. I totally believe you.” I shift under him, so I can slide my legs open to accommodate him and move them around his waist more easily. He settles on his elbows, coming down to watch my face.

“Completely true story. Scouts honor.” His face turns serious, and he frowns at me a little. “It’s just us. The past doesn’t matter; it never existed before this moment,” he sighs, eyes focused on mine. The hint of a little frown shows how serious he is at this moment, even while being playful.

“Nope. You can erase the past if you like, but not from this point!” I protest. “Reverse to last night on the dance floor, and anything before then can get the giant push. I’m keeping that memory forever.” I slide my arms around his neck to pull him closer, the warmth of his breath fluttering across my naked cleavage and igniting desires I thought we had exhausted.

“Actually, I think I may want to keep the hotel floor memory. It maybe wasn’t our happy start, but it was something I never want to forget.” He nudges my nose with his as though asking if I agree, and I don’t have to hesitate.

“Fine. If we’re picking and choosing memories, I’m keeping the boat kiss.” I lower my brows to show I mean business and narrow my eyes at him pointedly.

“Yeah, I want to keep that too, just not everything in between that and the hotel fuck.” He quirks an eyebrow, and there’s a cheeky glint in his eye, but I can only sigh.

“Please do not refer to what we do as that,” I say, rolling my eyes and cringing at his constant use of the F word.

“As what? Fucking? Why not?” He laughs at me animatedly.

“Because it’s vulgar and makes this sound so…so…sordid!”

“I like fucking you.” He sucks a small area of my neck, and my toes curl in response, despite trying to tell him off.

“Ruining the moment,” I mutter flatly.

“Making love? Having sex? What about screwing?” he murmurs while distracting me with gentle nibbles heading south.

“Hmmm, yes, yes, and no. Equally crass.” I close my eyes at the feel of his breath running down my neck, igniting tingles and shivers through every part of me.

“Jesus, Emma, there has to be some sordidness to our…making love.” He sits up and looks me in the eye, halting his progress abruptly.

“See, there you go! Such a good boyfriend.” I smile up at him, patting him on the head like a puppy, and he shimmies his groin into mine suggestively, pulling a giggle from me.

“Easy to train? Great! I feel so proud. Can we now go back to my previous subject? You know, now that’s all cleared up.” He slides his hands around my wrists and pulls my arms over my head to pin them down gently.

“You want to take me on a date?” I reply with two raised eyebrows and wiggle to get comfy in this pose.

“No. Dates are all I’ve done for years, empty, pointless things. I want to take you out. Something meaningful. I don’t want to call it a date; it seems so far removed from how I feel and what I think we have.” He’s behaving so unsurely, like a nervous teen again. It only makes him more appealing.

Who knew he had this side to him?

“So, where to?” I ask coquettishly, fluttering my lashes as I watch intently. He makes me feel sexy and playful, and I like this latest version of me. His eyes are fixed on my face, lust moving back in as he seems transfixed on my mouth once more. Automatically I part my lips at his focus, my breathing becoming shallow at his expression of pure longing.

Oh boy, is sex all we think about?