hot, naked, burning mess of erotic pleasure. He holds me against his chest as he kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue. But there’s something so different about this kiss. It’s not driven by lust or desire. It’s slow, and it’s passionate, and it’s all the versions of Leo I’ve been in love with since he introduced me to the emotion.
He shifts lower on the bed, lying on his back with me on top. He never breaks the kiss as his hands wander my body, slowly, carefully, as if memorizing every dip, every bump. I force my body not to lock up, not to think about all its imperfections. Tears well in my eyes and I hate that they’re there, but I hate even more that he notices. He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes searching. “What’s wrong, baby?”
I swallow the ache in my chest. “It’s just a lot, all of this.” It’s only a half-lie, I assure myself.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I want you. This. All of it.” I kiss him quickly. “Make me yours?”
He nods, eyes clear, as he rolls us onto my back. He kneels between my legs and reaches for his wallet, and pulls out condom, before dropping it beside my head. I glance at the open wallet, memories flooding me. This one is leather; the first one I saw was canvas. And because I’m curious, I lift my head, just to peek, and my breath catches. Holding his wallet up in front of me, I stroke my thumb over the plastic covering the picture. Why does he still have this picture of me? I look up at him, my eyes glassy with emotion. He smiles, but it’s sad. Then he reaches out, his hand cupping my face. “I hope you see how beautiful you are, Mia.” His throat moves with his swallow. “How beautiful you’ve always been.”
I release a sob and focus on the picture again. And then I slide my finger beneath the plastic, hesitate, and look up for permission. Leo nods once, his eyes closing, as he lies on top of me, weight on his forearms, condom on, our most intimate parts barely touching. I put the wallet beside me and hold the picture to the side, so he can press his lips to my neck, again and again.
I flip the picture over, and all air leaves my lungs.
“I didn’t need three words to express how I feel about you, Mia.” He rears back, tilts his head to see what I’m seeing. “I just needed one.”
I read the single word out loud. “Everything.”
He takes the picture carefully from me and places it on my nightstand so he can take both my hands in his. He holds them above my head with one hand, the other sliding down my side. Eyes on mine, he says, voice so soft I barely hear him, “To me, Mia Mackenzie Kovács, you are everything.”
I don’t hide my tears this time. I wear them proudly. “I have three words for you,” I tell him, kissing him once. “I love you.”
The laugh that drags out of him isn’t from humor. It’s the sound of relief. Of releasing all the anxiety and dread and uncertainty we’ve been carrying around for five years. It’s his turn to kiss me. And in between those kisses, he murmurs, “So much.”
And I whisper, “For so long.”
And then he positions our bodies just right, the perfect fit, and he makes me his.
Forever.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Mia
“You’re so adorable,” Leo says, watching me from his rocking chair as I pace back and forth on the porch. This morning, we woke up naked and in each other’s arms, and it was perfect. So insanely perfect that I never wanted to leave. Never wanted to not be naked and wrapped around him. Which yeah, would be weird, but whatever.
“I’m so excited!” So much so, I’m literally bouncing on my toes. “I haven’t seen him in a year. I can’t wait to hug him and fuss over him and love on him.”
Leo stands and grasps my shoulders, forcing me to stop and face him. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” I reply, and his smile matches mine.
“What are we going to do about your grandpa?” He says each word slowly, hesitantly, and I narrow my eyes in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
He leads me to the porch swing and gently encourages me to sit. “Are we going to tell him about us?”