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He rolls his forehead against me, whispering, “I had to have you. I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

I agree with a soft hum. “I couldn’t either.” But reality sets in. “I should get back inside.”

He nods, brushing his nose against mine. “Of course.”

We step out of the shed, and I spend another few moments taking in what he made for me, thanking him with a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re amazing.”

His answering smile is brighter than the moon, and he twines his fingers with mine to walk the twelve steps to my back door, where he whistles. “Long commute.”

“Yeah, but you seem able to make it over every day.”

“Damn right.” He slides his hand around my waist, drawing me in for one last searing kiss that has me leaning against the doorjamb for support when he steps back.

“Thank you for tonight. For…everything.” I gesture to the shed and then to my house.

“Anytime, duchess.” He gently drags his index finger down my jaw then tugs on the collar of his sweatshirt as if I’mthe one who needs the warmth when he’s left with only a T-shirt.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling too big as he pivots away from me and quietly turns to the side of the house, where his soft footsteps take him upstairs to his apartment. Only then do I finally whisper to the night sky, “See you tomorrow.”

Chapter 17

Dante

Ibarely slept last night after the way I took Taryn so hard and fast in the shed. It’s all I could think about. So much so that I masturbated at two in the morning, recalling every detail. The way she threw herself at me, heels at my back, fingernails dug into my skin. How her back bowed against me when I touched her swollen clit, the way she mewled and begged and whimpered as she came on my fingers. I don’t think I’ll ever forget how she shamelessly bent over, her wide hips swaying back and forth, her thick thighs spread, and how she shivered when I spat, making her pussy soaking wet.

Something happened yesterday.

Something I can’t quite name, but Taryn transformed before my eyes.

She opened herself to me, put all her vulnerabilities on display, and let me take care of her. I know that’s not easy for her to do. She’s been taking care of herself and everyone around her for so long, I’m not sure she knows how to give up control. But she did for me.

Her trust and the pride I take in it kept my head in theclouds all day, which pissed off my father during our Moretti Construction meeting this morning, and I had a lot of trouble wiping the smile off my face during lunch with Clara, so she gave me a ton of shit about it.

Since that fateful night at Tabby Cat, we’ve renewed our friendship and picked up right where we left off after high school. Which is why I decided to come to The Nest. Even though I don’t need to be here today, I have to warn Taryn.

With only two weeks until Thanksgiving, we’re in the home stretch of the renovation, and I’ve got the plumber working upstairs today. After that, it’s all finishing touches, and then it’ll be ready for the big party in December. Adding to my high, I spoke with Raf this morning. He’s doing well, and he finally got his paperwork sorted. The legal system is a hellscape, but I’m happy he’s doing well and staying here with his family.

I stroll into the bed-and-breakfast through the kitchen, spying a familiar head of hair as she passes through the new sitting room to the reception desk in the corner. I pause at the doorway, admiring her as she types something into the computer, humming mindlessly. She’s a terrible singer but fucking adorable all the same.

Taking a chance, I step behind her, my hands finding her waist, pressing a kiss to her neck, inhaling her scent that’s a mix of coffee, candy, and feminine grump. My favorite.

She spins around, hand raised, but immediately relaxes when she realizes it’s me. “Oh,” she breathes, a symphony in that one tiny sound. Surprise and relief and something deeper that tugs at my very soul.

I love that “oh.” It’s layered, complex, like she is, and I want to peel it apart, understand every nuance. But more than that, I want her. I need her body against mine, her breath on my skin, her voice in my ear.

“Dante,” she starts, but I cut her off, my lips on hers. She melts into me, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling me closer. I walk her backward to the nearby closet I’d built for extra storage space she’d requested. And perfect for what I have in mind.

I press her against the door, my hand reaching behind her to turn the handle, and we stumble inside, surrounded by shelves of linens and cleaning supplies. It’s cramped but private, with a door that locks.

I hit the light—which she doesn’t fight me on—and flip the lock, then drop to my knees, sliding my hands up her thighs. “You ever consider wearing a skirt or dress?”

Taryn Stone does not need to change one goddamn thing about herself. Every inch should be worshipped, and it would be my honor to do so anytime she wanted.

But.

It would be easier to do so if I didn’t have to take her pants off every single time.