Page 84 of Third Degree

This time, he reached across the table and grabbed my hand again, giving me a quick squeeze. “I will be right by your side.”

Fuck, my heart hurt. I hadn’t said the words since I texted him.

“Did you get my text? The morning before the wedding?” I asked him.

“Uh-huh.” He shoved a bite of food into his mouth, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I didn’t think I was ready to talk about it, though. I knew how I felt about him. Even now, I just couldn’t say it.

“Okay.”

He simply nodded, giving me the space I needed to process it.

We quickly finished up dinner. The waiter soon arrived with the check, and I started to shift uncomfortably in my chair. I knew this dinner was expensive. I had some savings from working as a waitress in San Diego, but this would take a big chunk out of my savings.

“I can help pay for it,” I offered regardless.

This time, Elio looked between me and the poor waiter, who was standing next to our table. He laughed so hard that the table started to shake.

“Di che cazzo parli(What the fuck are you talking about)?” His hand raised in question, and a mischievous grin spread across my face. “What’s mine is yours now, amore,” he declared, handing the card to the waiter, who swiftly walked away. “And regardless of newfound feminism, I’ll always be the one paying for our dates. Call me old-fashioned,” Elio stated confidently.

“Or just old,” I playfully retorted, earning a grin from him.

“That’s not what you said when we were discussing… a refractory period,” he teased, holding up his hand as if pondering the topic.

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, playfully throwing my napkin at him.

His smile stretched from cheek to cheek, reveling in the playful banter between us.

We quickly paid, and then he grabbed my hand and guided me back out to the car. The wind in the city whipped my hair around as I tried to push it out of my face. Elio reached up, tucking a stray strand behind me ear before grinning.

“I love your hair,” he whispered before he opened the door, and I got in as he slid in behind me.

“I’m kinda sad,” I murmured as I laid my head against his shoulder.

“Why?”

“Because I guess this is our honeymoon, and it comes to an end tomorrow.”

He grabbed my chin and pulled me up, so I was entranced by his emerald-green eyes.

“If you think this is a honeymoon, you have another thing coming. Let’s call this a transition period. I owe you a honeymoon.”

I laughed and slid my ring finger next to his. It was the first time since yesterday that I had really paid attention to the rings we both shared. Mine was just a simple band, but they looked so well together. I carefully touched his ring, his eyes lingering on me while I did. I laid my head back onto his shoulder as he pulled me in for a hug.

When we arrived back at the hotel, we didn’t make it more than two feet into the room before we started ripping our clothes off.

“Tell me what you want, amore.” Elio stood there with his pants undone and his shirt ripped open, buttons dangling by a thread.

“I want you to take me and fuck me.”

“As you wish.” His face was consumed with eagerness, and I knew he would fulfill all of my desires.

27

Elio

We were on the jet the next morning, back to San Diego. I quickly called Julian to make sure the surprise I’d set up for Gianna was completed. He assured me that everything was under control.

When we finally landed, the driver escorted us to the house that I had purchased and furnished in La Jolla.

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