Page 57 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)

Chapter

Fifty-Six

Gavin

Taylor stirs, and I open my eyes. Her face is plastered to my tattoo’s protective cling. That’s uncomfortable for both of us, and I gently shift her onto her pillow.

My feet hit the floor as soft as a cat’s paws, and I tiptoe to the bathroom and use the head. I even remember to lower the toilet seat. See, I’m picking up this boyfriend thing.

I pop the top of the aspirin bottle and dry swallow two pills, as I’m still sore as hell from my embarrassing bout.

Checking out my ink in the mirror, there’s a little blood around the edges, but it looks to be healing.

A good thing, because my coach is already gonna be on my ass after last night’s fuckup.

I didn’t want Taylor to think me eating the mat was her fault in any way.

Not that it was her fault; it was mine. Inferno’s right: I let the Hammer get in my head.

A mistake I won’t let happen again, because Taylor will be protected at all future bouts.

Or I will keep my promise and burn that fucking arena to the ground.

Gently peeling off the cling and cleaning up around my tattoo, I tiptoe back to bed.

Except my feet hit the floorboard at the wrong angle, making an ungodly creaking sound.

I grimace when I find Taylor watching me.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Grabbing the water on the nightstand, I take a sip before offering it to her.

“What time is it?” She sits with the covers pulled around her, accepting the glass and taking a drink before returning it to me.

We’ve been in this exact position before, except a third wheel was involved. And that’s when I realize, without a doubt, that I don’t ever want to share Taylor. Me watching my girl with anyone else will have to remain in the fantasy vault.

“Not quite ten.” I set the glass down and crawl into bed and under the covers, settling over her naked body. With the hot glide of my tongue, I kiss her deep.

Her tongue tries to battle with mine, but I slip mine out of her mouth, determined to keep things slow and sweet.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs against my lips.

My forehead creases as I pull back. “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right. I’m gonna make love to my girl, and you’re gonna let me.”

Tears spring from her eyes, but I kiss them one by one. “I love you. Let me.”

“I’m still scared,” she whispers.

“Of what? We broke your curse.” I tap the proof on my heart. “We’ve both already fucked up and tried to ghost each other, so we’re even. What else you got?”

“That things are too good, and the other mania shoe is going to drop,” she whispers.

Holding my weight off of her, I say, “Explain how your manic episodes look, so I’ll know what to expect.”

“Sleep’s a biggie; if I’m only getting four hours or less for more than a week, that’s a sign things are about to go south,” she explains quietly.

“Make sure you’re well rested. Got it. What else?” I ask.

“Mood swings; I might go from clingy to shredding your shit.”

“I’m not attached to any of my shit, except my car, but as we’ve seen, that can be replaced. What else?” I kiss away another tear.

“I might wake up and decide I hate you, and kick you out,” she tells me.

“You’ve already changed the locks once; no biggie. What else?”

“On the more severe side, I might begin hearing voices again. Seeing dark figures. Becoming really paranoid,” she says, her voice nothing but a whisper. “Getting on a bus to move cross-country without telling you, for example.”

“And after I find you, then what should I do?” Because I would find her. Period.

“Count my meds and see if I’ve missed any doses; me getting back on track is super important. Call my doctor, or if I’m self-harming, you may have to take me to the hospital, which I know would be triggering for you…”

Not promising I wouldn’t get myself admitted to keep her safe on the inside, I assure her, “I can do all those things. Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of,” she says hesitantly.

“Now that you’re out of excuses, I’m gonna make love to you.”

Taylor’s the bravest woman I’ve ever met, and yet at the mention of making love, she looks terrified.

“Unless you’re chicken.” Shifting to my knees, I flap my wings. “Buck-buck-buck.”

That gets the flames stoked in her beautiful jade eyes.

This is who I am, a simp creating odes to Taylor McKenna’s fucking eyes.

And I’m okay with that.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” My voice is nothing but a rumble as I trail my lips down the column of her neck. Her pulse is visibly pounding, and I give it a gentle kiss. “You’re nervous.”

“Yes,” she breathes, her body trembling.

“Hell, I’m nervous, because I sure as shit don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, pressing soft kisses beneath her ear. “But let me try.”

Taylor

The most confident man I’ve ever met is nervous, and that makes me feel a tiny bit better about my heart pounding out of my chest.

Time stills as Gavin kisses me.

Kisses me until I don’t know where my lips end and his begin.

Kisses me until I’ve nearly melted into a puddle on the bed.

Kisses me until I want to crawl into his skin.

From his guttural moan against my lips, maybe it’s him who wants to crawl into mine. “Are we even capable of making love?” His entire body vibrates with need, a coil wound too tightly. “You’re gasoline, and I’m the damn match.”

Flames lick between my thighs, but I beg him, “Don’t strike it yet, and let’s find out.”

He begins the slow grind of his hips, the crown of his dick kissing my clit on each roll.

I’m so turned on I couldn’t tell you my own name.

“Taylor,” he groans against my lips.

Right, that’s my name.

“Baby, I can’t take any more.” He grits. “I need to be inside you.”

“Yes.” My heartbeat throbs violently between my legs. That’s exactly what I need.

Holding his weight off of me, he looks down to where he’s spreading me open.

Slowly, inch by delicious inch.

My eyes roll back in my head when his pelvis becomes flush with mine.

This time, we don’t fuck like we’re trying to break the bed frame.

He rolls his hips, slow and steady.

A pause, and a sweet kiss.

Another roll of the hips.

Another pause, and another sweet kiss.

The pleasure’s still there, smoldering in the background.

My nails rake his stomach, and I raise up and kiss my artwork over his heart. “I love you.”

“Amore mio, lo sono pazza di te.”

“What do those Portuguese words mean?” I moan.

“I lied about the Portuguese; it’s Italian. I said, ‘My love, I’m crazy for you.’”

“You’re not crazy.” I cup his cheeks.

“And you’re not crazy,” he assures me. “Let’s be not crazy together.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He kisses me, and the most blissful orgasm rolls through my body.

Peaceful. Perfect.

Sweet, even.

Gavin grinds out his release, collapsing beside me and pulling me into his arms.

“Gavin, that was—”

“Alright,” he says in a bored tone.

It’s my turn to growl as I jerk his face inches from mine.

His body vibrates with laughter. “It was out-of-this-world amazing, and you damn well know it.”

“Mmm,” I agree, smiling against his lips.

His palm lands on my ass cheek with a firm swat, and I yelp in surprise. “Now, about me getting inside this ass…”

“You’ll get access to my back door when I get access to yours.”

He howls with laughter, giving my ass cheek a rough squeeze, and I giggle.

Well, we tried for sweet.