Page 40 of Let It Be Me (Shafer U #2)

THIRTY-THREE

ruby

The roar of the motor soothes me as we zoom across Lake Foster in my father’s boat, droplets of cold water collecting on our skin as we move ever faster away from land.

I’m huddled on the vinyl bench seat at the back, Lorenzo’s suit jacket draped over me against the cool dusk air as I watch him steer us deeper into the lake.

I don’t know where we’re going and I like that feeling.

Lorenzo is in charge, and nothing could make me feel safer.

Now and then he glances over his shoulder at me.

His eyes are warm with concern, but his jaw still holds on to the anger from the scene at the restaurant. I love him for that.

And there in the safety of being completely under his care, I replay the words he said to my parents. He’s the only person who sees me completely and loves me completely. And he’s the only one I really need.

When he finally stops the boat, we’re in a remote corner of the lake, far from any signs of people except for the sparkle of lights from the marinas that dot the distant shore. He kills the engine, leaving only the soft sound of music from the Bluetooth speaker, so quiet I can barely hear it.

He slides down next to me on the bench and takes my hands in his, but he doesn’t speak.

“That was humiliating.” My voice cracks.

“For them.”

“No,” I say sharply. “For me. I should have known better than to think they’d be proud of me. I know them.”

“You knew how you felt about yourself before we sat down across from them. You knew you .” He leans close so I can’t avoid his gaze. “Don’t let them talk you out of what you know.”

“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 off their script.”

“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.

“Yes,” I say breathlessly. Clutching the hair at the nape of his neck, I let my head tip back and take in a long breath. My chest fills with relief. I’ve wanted to give him that answer for so long. “We don’t have condoms out here. It’s okay, right?”

“It’s okay.”

My pulse quickens. I’ve never had sex without a condom.

But Lorenzo knows I’m militant about taking my pill, and we’ve both been tested since our last hookups.

He’d tell me if he had any doubts. For the hundredth time, I’m reminded of how beautiful it is to be with someone I trust completely. Why did I ever do anything else?

His lips are on my throat. “Are you scared?”

“No,” I say immediately, then find myself smiling. “Yes.”

He answers by taking my skin between his teeth.

“Are you?” I manage to ask once a shiver finishes rolling through me.

“No. I’m not anything except in love with you.” He holds the back of my neck, kisses my throat again, and finds my lips. “And fucking dying to be inside you.”

If Lorenzo isn’t scared, then neither am I.

I trust him with all of myself. Together, we fumble with his pants and gracelessly get them down his legs, along with his boxers.

With his erection filling the space between my thighs and his, I stop to stare.

I’ve seen his cock before, but not like this, not thick and straining an inch outside my entrance, not wet with a drop of precum.

A hiss slips past his lips as I circle my thumb over the head, then slide myself against him so when I lean back, his shaft is slick with my wetness.

I look up to find him watching my face. Lust and wonder swirling in his eyes, his mouth agape. God, I want to give him everything.

I open my mouth against his lips and kiss him. My fist closes around his cock, and immediately he thrusts into my fingers, moving slowly, like he’s trying not to but can’t resist. He feels so good in my hand.

“If you make me come before I get inside you, I’ll never forgive you,” he mutters between kisses.

“Then fuck me already.”

I expect him to go slow and careful, be the man I know so well.

But I see the way his lips are parted and his eyes are at half-mast, how he’s so turned on there’s nothing slow and careful left in him.

So I shouldn’t be surprised when he puts his hands under my ass and opens my body and drives his waiting cock inside my pussy.

I shouldn’t be surprised that he drives himself so deep it pushes a broken cry from my throat.

I shouldn’t be surprised that, with Lorenzo, slow and careful doesn’t hold a candle to hard and fast and desperate.

But I am. And incredibly turned on.

Sitting back, I watch as he thrusts into me, his fingers pressing so hard into my thighs they’re white. This is the Lorenzo I fell for, chasing pleasure with single-minded purpose and holding on to me as tight as I’ll let him.

I push his unbuttoned shirt open so I can run my fingers over his beautiful tattoos.

His abs strain with effort as he thrusts.

When his fingers move for my clit, I close his hand into a fist so I can grind myself against the knuckle of his thumb.

His other hand cradles my breast, letting it slap against his open palm in time with our movement.

“I knew it would be like this with you and me.” His hand moves to my neck, urging me to meet his white-hot gaze.

“Like what?” I smile because I know the answer.

“Fucking perfect,” he says, his voice so raw and throaty I want to taste it. “I knew you would ruin me for every other woman.”

I drink him in, wet lips and sweat-dampened tattoos and veins pulsing with effort all along his arms. The scar slashing his eyebrow in half that will always remind me he’s mine. “You didn’t have to fuck me to ruin me, Lorenzo. You ruined me a long time ago.”

He groans and spreads his knees so mine have to open wider.

“I want to be deeper inside you. Spread your legs so you can take me deep.” His arm circles my waist, locking me into place so he can drive deeper.

Words become unintelligible sounds falling from Lorenzo’s mouth—sounds that fill my head, ramping up my desire until it threatens to spill.

This version of him is so irresistibly fucking sexy, watching him do the one thing he never allows himself—lose control.

And he’s doing it for me. My heart aches like it’s ready to burst free from my chest.

“I want you to come first, Ruby,” he says hoarsely. He drags his tongue across my collarbone, my body now pressed so tight to him his sweat-soaked hair sticks to my cheek. “Please. I need to feel your pussy tighten around me when you fucking come.”

I’ve never wanted to give him what he asked for like I do right now.

I cover his fist with my hand and press him harder against my clit, making the pressure unbearable.

My body clenches tight, and when I feel his whisper against my neck—“I love you, Ruby”—I let go the way I’ve been waiting to for as long as I can remember.

“Yes,” I gasp as a dozen crushing waves tear through me. I see him watching me, his gaze filled with lust, before my eyes squeeze shut. “Yes, Lorenzo. I fucking love you.” The world is black and bright behind my closed eyelids, more perfect than I thought possible.

I’m still saying his name when his body jerks and stiffens beneath me. “Fuuuuck,” he groans, the single word sounding like ten. He finishes inside me with a raw moan and a few desperate thrusts that draw aftershocks of pleasure from me. Then I collapse against his chest.

When he stirs to life a minute later, his hand closes into a fist around my tangled hair and he makes me look at him. His eyes are barely open, but he’s smiling like he owns the whole world. With his hand still in my hair, he brings my lips to his and kisses me with everything that’s left in him.

“Unreal.” His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “Why the fuck did we wait so long?”

My breaths are quick and shallow. “Because you wanted to. And Lorenzo always gets what he wants.”

He brings my hand to his chest and lays it flat. Under my palm, his heart pumps steady and strong. “You know what I want next?”

“There’s no kitchen on the boat.”

“I want to jump in the water and wash it all away. And then I want to do it all over again.”