Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(108)

I give her a chance to take over. Her tits bounce as she rides me and for a moment, I lean my head back and watch. My perfect fucking girl. She’s always been my perfect girl.

“You know exactly what I like, baby. You’ve always known what I like.”

She whimpers.

“Do you know what else I like?”

She nods frantically. “When I come while you’re inside of me.”

Jesus. Hearing her say it out loud puts me that much closer to the edge.

“Can you do that for me?”

She’s a panting mess, her lips finding mine again. “I think I’m . . .”

I know she is. She’s tightening around me, so I don’t change anything. I do exactly what I’m already doing until her hips stutter and stomach pulls taut, falling completely apart on me.

It might be the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her. Untethered. Undone.

Mine.

And the realization that I may have gotten so lucky that, for the second time in my life, she may actually be mine, has me coming with her. I spill into her while chanting her name like a fucking prayer against her lips.

Which is fitting, because she feels like my answered prayer.

And as we come down together, I make sure to tell her that.





Chapter 34


Hallie


I wake with a head of dark messy hair on my chest, arms wrapped around my waist, and a giant man between my legs, sleeping peacefully. Sleeping like I’ve never seen him sleep before.

Which is probably for the best because we were up most of the night.

After the first round, Rio took me downstairs and fed me. I’m not sure if any of his friends know, but the guy is one hell of a cook. All those cooking lessons his mom gave him while growing up have clearly stuck. He whipped up a homemade pasta sauce that he promised would be better if it got to meld together longer, but I didn’t know how that was possible because it was already delicious.

He watched me eat my bowl of pasta, unable to keep his hands off me the whole time, but I didn’t mind. After so long without being touched in that way, it felt good to be needed. It felt good to be taken care of too.

And as soon as I finished eating, he sat me on the kitchen counter and took care of me in another way.

Unlike the first time, the second time was hard and fast. He had a hand cradling the back of my head so it wouldn’t slam against the kitchen cabinets, and once we both came again, he carried me to his shower to clean me off, where he dropped to his knees and threw one of my thighs over his shoulder. He made me come again with his mouth, as if he were on a mission to give me all the orgasms I missed over the last six years.

We both passed out asleep after that.

And as much as I’d love to lie around with him all day and try to find the energy to return the favor, I have a job I need to get to.

I peel myself out from under him, making sure not to wake him up, before finding one of his flannel shirts tossed on a chair. I slip my arm through that, buttoning it all the way down the front before heading downstairs.

Thankfully, it’s not a construction day at Rio’s house, so I’m not worried about anyone walking in on me wearing my client’s shirt as a dress with nothing on underneath.

When I get to the kitchen, I put on some music, letting it connect to the speakers only on the first floor. I choose something soft and melodic to start my morning before turning on Rio’s espresso machine.

At the fridge, I contemplate grabbing the dairy milk instead of the almond since he’s not awake and can’t have a taste of my coffee anyway, but something about it feels wrong. So, I grab the almond milk instead.

I’m pulling a shot when I hear a sleepy, raspy voice ask, “What do you think you’re doing?” from behind me.

I look over my shoulder to find Rio, leaning his hip on the kitchen counter, right where he fucked me a few hours ago, sweatpants hung low. Smirk on his face and not wearing a shirt, showing off my tattoo.

Mine.

Only mine.

I’m still processing his confession last night, that he hasn’t been with anyone but me.

I’ve forgiven him for our past. I understand where his head was at when he made the choices he did. And though I know there’s a part of him that thinks it’s going to take more or that he should continue to punish himself over it, I think the fact that he tried so hard for six years to get over me and couldn’t was torture enough.

And I kind of love that he couldn’t do it.

“What are you smirking at?” he asks.

“Just thinking about what a terrible time you had trying to get over me.”

He laughs to himself, crossing the kitchen to me. “Ain’t that the fucking truth.” His palm slides against my lower back. “And my other question. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making myself a latte.”

“That’s my job.” He takes the almond milk from me at the same time he leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

“You were sleeping.”

“Then you got out of bed. I think you know by now I only sleep when you’re next to me.”

“So honest today.”

“Yeah, well I just got laid for the first time in six years, Hal. I’ll tell you anything you want to know as a thank you for fucking me.”

Laughing to myself, I curl into him, hiding my face against his chest. He wraps his free arm around me, holding me close as he continues to work on my latte.