Page 71 of Trust Me

“Fucking right you are, dolcezza.”

Elio continues lavishing my breast as he reaches his hand between us, finding my clit through my tights. All it takes is a couple of strokes and I scream his name as my orgasm hits in full force, my legs shaking as my back bows.

“Oh, my God,” I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I’ll be your god anytime,” he muses, eyes shining with something I’m not familiar with as he stares at me.

I shake my head at him and push off the counter in search of my sweater.

Elio stops me, scooping me into his arms.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

I smirk, feeling a rush of happiness like never before. It’s going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Elio

I smirk at her calling me babe. It’s something she recently started to do, and I fucking love it. Just like how dolcezza is no longer a smart-ass remark, but the truth. Because she’s my sweetheart, only mine.

If someone had asked me if I thought I’d be flying my private plane to California for the day to pick up a dress my girlfriend saw online at a boutique, I’d laugh.

Brooks’ wedding is in a few weeks, and I’ve asked Jasmine to come with me. She was thrilled, claiming it’ll be her first time leaving the country. That fact prompted me to stay up long after she’d fallen asleep as I planned a vacation for us once we graduate, which will be her Christmas gift.

Jasmine talks about visiting Europe all the time, so that’s where we’re going for a two-month-long vacation.

She’s been looking for a dress to wear for a while now, coming up short every time, because she can’t find the one. I wanted to tell her that it’s not her wedding, but I refrained because I know she’s also nervous about meeting my friends.

I keep telling her she’s perfect and that she has nothing to worry about, yet she still does because that’s how my girl is.

Jasmine finally fell in love with a dress she found at a boutique online, her face lighting up with excitement, only to fall with disappointment once she realized how expensive the dress was, and the fact that they didn’t ship orders from California.

I said to hell with all of that. If she wants the dress, she’s getting it. No matter how expensive or far away it is. Based on the picture she showed me, it’s going to look fucking stunning on her.

I don’t know how I’ll be able to not rip it off her body immediately, but I’ll do my best to try.

It’s Sunday, which means it’s a day free of practice and games for me, making it easy to fly there and back in one day. I told Jasmine I was going out with Brooks for some wedding duty stuff, which isn’t a total lie, since I’m getting her a dress for the wedding.

I called the boutique ahead of time, asking them to hold a dress in her size. I ordered her a pair of matching heels, black with gold spiral straps, which should be arriving tomorrow.

I like spoiling her, because not only does she deserve every fucking thing in this world, but because I take great pleasure in knowing I’m the only one who’s ever done that for her.

My trip was a short one, and six hours later, I have her dress hanging in the back seat.

My mind wanders as I drive back to the apartment.

We’ve been dating for a month now, and to say I’m happy is an understatement. Next week, I’m taking her home to meet my family for Thanksgiving, and two weeks after that, we’re going to the wedding together.

She hasn’t told her father yet, and it bothers me a little. I’m ready to tell him, ready to start living our life as a couple in public. But I know she’s not, so I don’t push it. I’ll take what I can from her any day of the week.

I greet Colin, the dress bag over my shoulder as I head up to our apartment. I push the door open, my heart swelling in my chest at the sight before me.

Jasmine’s asleep on the couch, her curls splayed on the pillow, hands under her cheek and her knees curled up toward her chest. The cats are by her feet, all three of them cramped up together.

But what gets me, besides the sight of her existing, is that she’s wearing one of my old jerseys. It looks massive on her, swallowing her up whole. I don’t know what prompted her to wear it, but I’m not complaining.

Seeing her in my jersey is doing something to the possessive part of me, making me want to bend her over the side of the couch and claim her with my cock once and for all. I shake the thoughts away, softly shutting the door behind me.

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