Page 87 of Let It Be Me

“What do I know? That if I bust my ass, I can pull off a mediocre GPA? That I can get some stupid fucking job I barely understand? A job I’ll last at for probably a year until I turn to homelessness as an exciting alternative?”

“You’re reading offtheirscript.”

“Then what do I really know about myself that’s so important? Tell me, Lorenzo. Please.”

He studies me, and for a moment I’m afraid he really has nothing. “Okay, what do you know about yourself? I can remember some choice words.” Amusement passes over his face. He looks down at my hands in his, running his thumb over each finger in turn. “You’re a mess.” He glances at me and arches a brow. “Your words, not mine. You get overly excited. You like to try everything. When you find something you want, you bust your ass to get it. And you’re proud of how hard you’ve been working. Right?”

I nod. I really was proud of myself.

“They can’t take that away from you. That was real.”

His words fill me up so completely. He’s right.

“And you know there’s no one I respect more than you. No one whose fight I admire more.”

I blink and watch a tear fall onto the back of my hand, which rests in his.

“And now that I’ve announced it to everyone at the restaurant, I’ll say it to you: I love you, Ruby.”

There’s such hope in Lorenzo’s eyes that it makes me question what I’ve been doing with my entire life. Has he wanted to say this as long as I’ve wanted to hear it? Because every piece of him seems locked up in the light of his gaze as he looks at me. He brings my hand to his lips and kisses the spot that’s wet with tears.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me so tenderly that if I had any doubt he loved me, his lips would wash it away. Suddenly it seems ridiculous that I ever held anything back from him—that I’m still withholding something. Everything I’ve ever done and said has been safe with Lorenzo.

I stand and turn up the music. When I turn back around, Lorenzo’s watching me like I’m the only thing that exists. I know exactly what I want to do, and I know it’s going to change us forever. I pull my shirt over my head, no doubts in my mind.

Lorenzo exhales a breath, understanding what’s finally happening. Holding his hand out, he begs to touch me. I stand in front of him, but when my fingers drop to the waistband of my skirt, he covers my hands with his and pushes the skirt down himself. Electricity dances along my skin as his fingers glide up the sides of my body. He slips the narrow straps of my bralette off my shoulders and pulls the lace cups down my breasts. A heady groan rumbles through his chest, and my nipples stiffen, aching for the warmth of his palms.

Taking his time, he slides the bra down my waist and over the curve of my hips, and on his way down, he takes my underwear too, guiding their path all the way to my toes. When I’m naked in front of him, he spreads his hands open and trails them up my body like he’s trying to take in as much of me as he can. As his dark eyes follow his hands, I know exactly what I’m seeing in them. I can read his thoughts because I’ve had the same ones:Here it is. Finally.

“I always wondered what you looked like without clothes on.” I love the low, secretive tone of his voice. “Without anything on.”

“When did you wonder that?”

His hands curve over my ass, and he leans forward to kiss my stomach. “The first time you wore a bikini. It was yellow. Remember that?”

Blood pumps faster inside me at the thought of him carrying an image of me in my first bikini all these years. “When else?”

“Junior prom. You wore that backless dress and I could almost see your ass crack. Holy fuck. Every guy in the room that night was imagining what you looked like naked.”

“What did you imagine?”

“Fucking heaven.”

“And?”

“And this is even better.” He wraps his hands around my waist, runs his fingers over my ribs, and cups my breasts, taking it all in. Every nerve ending he touches lights up like it’s come alive for the first time.

He finally drags his gaze off my body and meets my eye when I lower myself onto his lap. Just like the night I woke him in bed and kissed him that first time, he follows my every move with his own, his gaze heavy with lust.

His arms envelop me and I kiss him the way I used to dream of when we were teens, reckless and unrestrained. The air I breathe is pure Lorenzo, all his warmth and strength flowing from his perfect lips to mine. Desperation strikes, and I reach for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one and spreading the fabric open, drunk on the knowledge that he’s all mine. A shudder trembles through me as my nipples graze his bare skin, and I grind my hips against him. All the years of longing and wanting and loving Lorenzo have distilled into this one moment where the need to feel his body inside mine is as intense as the need to breathe. When I look down to find the button at his fly,my focus snags on the slick spot I’ve left on the crotch of his gray pants. He sees it and smiles with a grunt. Closing his hand over it, he squeezes his cock before gripping my thighs and spreading them wider so my pussy slides against his pants again. He wants to see how wet I am for him. I rock my hips, inciting a wildness in his eyes that only makes me grind harder against him.

“Goddamn it,” he sighs. “Ruby.”

I luxuriate in this instant, knowing there’s not a single thought in his head except me—a wish that once seemed impossible. With puffy lips and a dark, lustful gaze, he draws me closer and kisses me again, cradling my face in his hands and parting my mouth wider. My hands slide over his chest, all muscle and impossibly warm flesh. His tongue finds mine, certain and insistent, and the familiar taste of him turns me liquid with desire. From a distant part of my brain comes the warning to savor this moment, the one I’ve waited a lifetime for and that I’ll never get again. But he feels so good I’m powerless to do anything but ask for more and more. I want him everywhere. Inside, outside, covering every inch with his heat. He kisses the corners of my mouth, trails his lips across my cheek.

“Are we done taking it slow?” His deep voice reverberates through my skin.

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