hot as she watched him, eyes moving to scan his features, lips quirking into a sweet smile before she took his mouth. Her tongue was hard, penetrating and Gia squeezed her pussy, her movements frantic now, rocking hard, moving quicker when Kai felt his body seize up, felt that familiar ache shooting like a rocket and he held onto her, arms around that sweet body, mouth against that exposed neck as he came.
“Fucking… combustible…” he said, breath uneven, grip tight on her.
Gia collapsed on top of him, not complaining when Kai turned her, when he kept her against him to lie on the pillow next to his head. He didn’t move out of her. Kai didn’t want to relinquish the warmth of her body or the feel of how she had wrapped herself around him. He was losing his hard-on, his body ebbing into less frantic breaths, but he wouldn’t release her. Not yet.
She felt so good. So real. For the smallest moment, she belonged to him and Kai didn’t want that feeling to leave him. He wanted to stay in the balm of her body.
“Kai,” she whispered, leaning back and still he didn’t move. He clung to her waist, his mouth against her chest, inhaling, wanting to stay buried inside her. “Kai,” she tried again, this time brushing the hair from his forehead.
“Don’t say it,” he told her, looking up to watch her face. “Not yet. Just for a little while longer, be right here with me.” Gia opened her mouth, and he knew she’d give him an excuse, some logical, stupid reason for him to let her go. He didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was. “Not yet,” he said again, leaning up to take her mouth. “For now, let me pretend you’re mine.”
Gia knew…she always seemed to know what he needed most, what would make Kai happy, and just then, she gave him what he needed—she let him pretend.
17.
GIA
SHE HAD COMMITTED MANY SINS.
You don’t live a solitary life, one that still requires sporadic moments of companionship without breaking connections. Without doling out a little pain.
But none of the sins Gia had committed seemed to cut as deeply as how she’d left Kai.
They were connected now. There was some small voice she chose to listen to that told her being with him was a mercy. For him. He’d wanted to feel something other than pain. She’d seen it in his eyes when she kissed him. She’d recognized it clearly from the lost, lonely moments that she stared in the mirror after losing Luka. He wanted her touch and so she gave in. She gave him everything he’d wanted. Gia let Kai hold her and feel her and let her wrap herself around him because he needed a reprieve from the ache that clung to him like ivy to an oak.
But she didn’t believe it would last. It shouldn’t have. Them together wasn’t supposed to mean anything other than the reprieve he’d wanted. At least, that’s what she told herself. But she hadn’t expected him to feel so right. So good. She hadn’t believed anyone could touch her the way Kai did and she’d want more for herself.
She had and it scared her, that craving for him. The desire to want more than his touch.
It petrified Gia, and she wasn’t a woman who scared easily.
So she did what she always did when she felt Luka slipping from her—not the boy he’d been and how fiercely she’d loved him. But the reminder of what that love had cost her. She’d blindly given him everything, taken all that he offered and it had nearly ended her. She couldn’t let that happen again.
She had to pull back. She had to give herself some distance from Kai.
“Will you come for dinner tonight?” Keola asked, holding onto Gia’s hand as they waited for their luggage at baggage claim. She wanted to tell the girl yes. She wanted to make promises that she wouldn’t keep away from her ever. But that wasn’t something she could do.
“Tonight you’re going to be very sleepy from the long plane ride,” she told her, squeezing that small hand between her fingers. Behind her, she felt Kai moving to grab the bags and heard his sister’s low mutter as she spoke to a security guard helping them to load the bags onto a rack. “But I promise I’ll come see you when you and your auntie come back from the beach next week.”