Ren

I wake up. I slowly open my eyes, and it's still dark, the moon shining in slightly through my blinds. Though a very blurry brain, I attempt to take stock of my current statistics: I'm in my bed. I feel bad, but not terrible. I feel... heavy and very, very... thirsty.

I look down off the bed, and to my surprise, one of my dining room chairs is pulled up to the side of the bed as a makeshift table, and a big metal bowl is on the floor. On the chair is a box of tissues, painkillers, and a large glass of water. I immediately pick it up and drain the whole glass.

Wait. How did I get in bed? 

I have zero memories at the moment. Then suddenly, I freeze as I realize I am, for sure, topless. I don't usually go to be without a T-shirt. I gasp.  Am I totally naked? What happened last night?

I quickly check under the covers. No, phew. I still have underwear on. I slowly wrap the covers around me again. Ever so slowly, bits and pieces of the night start fluttering back like falling confetti into my still-hazy consciousness.

Oh no, no, no, no.

I groan inwardly as the fragmented memories of me throwing up while Gio held me come on strongly now, rushing back like an avalanche into my visual cortex.

He had put a towel over me and tied my hair back. He had stroked my back and told me I'd be okay. I feel extreme hot embarrassment flood in waves over my body as each memory becomes clearer.

But I still don't remember coming to bed.

Slowly and carefully, I turn under the covers to look over my shoulder. An almost silent gasp escapes me as I take in Gio, lit softly by the moonlight, eyes gently closed, breathing slow and even, curled up just behind me, fast asleep in my bed.

I follow his angular hand, relaxed and curled up next to his chin to his wrist and olive-tanned forearm, turning the corner to his nicely toned bicep to his damn sexy muscular shoulder with that beautiful little dip and bump that is the edge of his collar bone which disappears back behind his hand—and I soak up the notion that he's at least half naked as well.

Just as slowly, I turn back around, feeling like I have to be very gentle with myself as I wrangle with what emotion is playing out more substantially in my chest currently.

Am I elated... or horrified that hot and cold Giovanni Regali is still here, sleeping next to me after everything that happened last night?

I try to work it out, but my head starts to ache as another wash of exhaustion hits me, and my heavy eyelids close, banging shut like heavy iron curtains on me again.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

My eyes blink open again, and it's morning. The room is thankfully dimmer than it might have been since I only have cheap blinds on the window, but it's raining heavily now. I hear the steady rush and the occasional swoosh of cars passing by on the drenched pavement outside.

A gloomy day. Perfect.

I briefly believe that I might be feeling ok when it quickly becomes quite apparent that I am most definitely... not. My head suddenly spins, my stomach twists, and I feel incredibly and painfully nauseous. My brain starts to throb, and my skull is too tight for that. Fuck me.

A moan of discomfort escapes my throat as I fumble on the makeshift chair nightstand for the water glass. It's light in my hand as I lift it, and then I remember I drained it in the night. I try to set it back down, but I miss the nightstand by half, and it tips over and falls to the floor with a crash. Crap. It didn't sound like it broke, though.

"How are you feeling?" I hear from behind me.

Oh yeah... shit. He's still here.

"Ughhh," I groan as I lay down on my back and cover my eyes with my forearm. "Pretty awful."

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "You need more water?"

"Mmhm," I barely reply. Speaking is making me feel ten times worse.

I feel him get out of bed, and I peek out of one eye just in time to see his perfect ass in tight black boxer briefs exit the room.

Man! That would have been much more enjoyable if I wasn't feeling like road kill at the moment.

I shut my one eye again. It's amazing how even that minor adjustment lessens the pain slightly.

He's back a moment later with another glass of water and a few stale artisan crackers I bought when I felt like making myself a pity party for one with a fancy wine and cheese board a few weeks ago.

I feel the bed dip down as he comes to sit down on my side of the bed. I struggle to open both eyes, and all I can see are his gorgeously toned abs. I squeeze them shut again.

Oh, why can't I enjoy this right now?!

"If you can eat a bit of something and take those painkillers, you'll feel a little better," he soothes me, stroking my shoulder.

I slowly open my eyes again, intent on averting them from his. I have absolutely no idea how much of a gremlin I look like right now. I can feel my hair is in some sort of haphazard slept-in disarray, and my unwashed face probably sports mascara that is all under my eyes instead of on my lashes.

I grab the glass of water, drink half, set it down, and apprehensively take up a cracker. I nibble a few small test bites, waiting to see if that makes my stomach more or less happy with me.

He disappears from the room again, and my stomach seems accepting of the cracker, so I eat two, pop the painkiller, and down the rest of the water. I snuggle back under the cover and let sleep pull me back under.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

When, at last, I come to, I can immediately tell I feel light-years better. My head feels clearer, and my stomach is only slightly sour.

A slight panic washes over me as I wonder if Gio is still here or not. I flip over in bed more loosely now, and he's still next to me and reading.

He's turning a page, holding a book on the comforter over his lap. I check his cheek, and it's not looking too bad. I look lower and now notice... tattoos! Well, that's new. He's got at least one on his forearm and one on his right bicep.

How have I not noticed this before? Hmm. Now that I think more about it, he's always worn long sleeves out, well, he has been shirtless in my apartment... but I guess I've been too drunk and hot to notice. I start to recall some of the memories from last night, right before I got sick. Damn, that was hot! 

He glances at me, and a small smile quirks his lips, probably mirroring mine. His eyes are dancing... he seems... happy.

God, he's so frickin' cute! He looks too damn good reading in my bed. I think I could get very used to the sight of this.

"Hey, Ren?"

"Hmmm," I hum, softly smiling up at him.

"There's, like... porn in here," he smirks and points to his place in the book.

I stare at him in horrific embarrassment as I realize he's reading one of my spicy romance novels, "Drive Me Crazy." I quickly snatch the book away from his hands and drop it to the floor on my side of the bed. "Hey, I just got to the good part!"

My brain's still too foggy to retort to that, so I just wrinkle my nose at him instead.

He laughs at me, "Seems like you're feeling a little better."

"Yes, much," I reply, relaxing again. "Gio?

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about... last night... and thank you... for...um, you know," I say vaguely, referencing several things at once.

"No," he says, looking at me quite seriously. "I'm so glad... I could," he replies just as ambiguously. But I know we both understand each other perfectly.

"Me too," I whisper, welling up inside. Then my stomach drops with concern. "Hey, what time is it? Don't you have to work or something?"

"It's Sunday, Ren. I don't work on the weekends anymore," he chuckles, leaning back against the headboard.

Right. Sunday. OMG! It's his birthday today!

"GIO! It's your birthday!" I say, suddenly popping up in bed and turning towards him. "Happy birthday!!"

"Very," he says absently, raising his eyebrows and looking wide-eyed at me.

What?

Then immediately, I realize he's staring at my boobs. I'm still naked from the waist up. I put my hands over them and close my eyes, feeling soft heat on my cheeks.

Ugh. This morning is just not giving me any breaks.

I get up, crossing my arms over my breasts, and go to my dresser. Grabbing the first old t-shirt I see, I throw it on, then pad into the bathroom to pee, brush my teeth, and wash my face. When I come back into bed, I feel one hundred percent better. But he's out of my bed and putting his shirt back on.

No! Don't leave! Oh, please don't do this to me again! Adrenaline and cortisol flood my veins as my heart pounds in my chest. Quickly closing the distance between us, I put my hands on his chest to hold him there.

"Gio! I'm so sorry I ruined your birthday, but please, please don't go!"

I look into his beautiful butterscotch and pine eyes, and they are still open to me. They aren't guarded this morning.

"I'm not," he laughs gently at my knee-jerk reaction.

"You're not?" I feel a little jump in my heart.

"I was just going to make us some coffee," he says as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. "I think I'm done trying to stay away from you."

"You are?" I repeat in disbelief.

"I mean... after last night, I..." he looks away. "I just can't bear to see you get hurt by another guy, physically... or... otherwise."

I can't speak. My heart is beating so strongly in my throat that I don't even try; my insides are a melted pool of emotion where my heart should be. I avert my gaze to his cheekbone, which is starting to acquire a nice purple and yellow haze right around the scab.

"I don't want you to get hurt either," I whisper, lightly brushing my finger over his cheek near his cut. I feel him flinch—not from my touch so much as my words. I look to his eyes, but he's closed them, and when they open again, they are misty with emotion too.

And he leans down and kisses me. And it's slow and soft and perfect. I open my mouth, and this time my tongue follows his lead. It's not rushed or frenzied—it's intimate and heartfelt, and we melt into each other.

He steers me toward the bed, descending together, never breaking our kiss. He puts his arm under my back, easily pulling me up toward the center of the bed, climbing on top of me. I feel enraptured by the idea of him enclosing me with his wonderfully masculine body. His muscular biceps support his torso, and his forearms are flat on the mattress, hands cupped around my head, his lower half pressing down on me.

Mmmm, I love the weight of him.

He slowly drops soft kisses down my neck, and my nipples harden in response. I realize the shirt I just put on is coming off again, as is his. I moan softly as his mouth takes up my nipple, and he sucks on it as he rolls and pinches the other with his fingers. I run my hands through his hair the way he likes, and he hums low in his throat in response. I want to kiss or touch his body back, but he's too far away, so I just relax into it and enjoy letting him play with me, making me ache for him.

He moves lower, kissing me down my stomach, inch by inch, and slowly pulling down my underwear. A fresh surge of excitement rushes through me. But as excited as I am, I'm a bit nervous too and impatient to touch him back. I try to grasp at him, but he pushes me gently back down, fiery lust flickering in his eyes.

"You don't have to, Gio," I begin.

"I know... I want to," he murmurs through wet kisses on my thigh, his jaw slightly scratching on my soft, sensitive skin.

God, hearing that makes me even wetter than I already am.

I open my mouth to say something back, but all that comes out is a low, throaty moan as he puts his mouth between my legs in a slow, open-mouthed kiss. Every nerve ending in my entire body lights up and melts simultaneously.

Fuck! I'm in ecstasy.

No guy has ever gone down on me like Gio has—figured out exactly how I like it. Alex didn't even want to do it at all. Gio did. He loved doing it—and god, he's so good at it.

It takes me right back to being with him like this back then... but better. I arch my back to cope with the sensation of his tongue gliding up to find my clit and then sucking gently on me as two of his finger slip deftly inside.

"You taste so good... better than I remember," he says while exploring me with his fingers before returning for more.

His tongue gives me sweet-hot attention as it circles and swipes while his fingers dive in and out, satisfying me from the inside out. He's making me loud, and I'm moaning his name, "Oh, Giooo." and it sounds so fucking erotic!

His mouth responds to his name being called, and his hand that is gripping the dip between my hip and my thigh pulls me into him harder. He's literally devouring my cunt like it's the last meal he'll ever have. Then he backs off to skillfully manipulate me, just the right pressure, just the right speed. I'm panting now—I can't take it. Then he latches on right as he digs his fingers into my G-spot. He's sending me completely off the edge—my body spasming, arching, then collapsing into oblivion.

He lets me rest a second, wiping his mouth with his arm and smiling at his handy work—which is me in a melted puddle of legs and arms on the bed. I watch him, unable to move.

"Ready for more?" he asks, with a salacious look and one eyebrow raised.

"Get naked and get up here!" I command him, and he obediently complies, flexing his pecs and abs as he bends to drop his boxer briefs. He then uncurls and stands before me, running his hand along his long, thick shaft. Damn, he's so fucking hot, and I'm throbbing for him so badly.

He was basic-model hot at seventeen, but now, at freshly twenty-nine, he is the supped-up, modified version. He crawls back toward me. As he hungrily kisses my mouth, I feel him hard up against my opening.

"I need you inside me—you have a condom?"

"Yeah," he breathes and reaches off the side of the bed. I assume he's got one in his pile of clothes next to the bed because he returns a moment later, the package already open, ready to roll it on. My hungry eyes watch as he rolls it down to get a good look at how big he is, and his eyes flick to mine, full of fire. He gets back on top of me, lining us up. I'm so hot and ready for him. Our eyes meet and lock, and his have dilated to only green again with a softer expression than a second ago.

"I can't believe I'm finally going to have sex with you again," he breathes as if it's all suddenly too good to be true.

"Me either," I whisper back, my heart welling up, feeling the exact same way.

He closes his eyes and kisses me fervidly as he slowly pushes just the tip and then, in a tingly rush, the rest of himself inside, filling me up completely, my body gripping him tightly, and we both moan with the overwhelming sensation. I wrap my arms around his wide shoulders and gasp as I feel him begin to slowly move inside me.

Closing my eyes, I hold onto him tightly as he presses his face against my neck, and I tremble around him as Ihis upper body muscles shudder, both our breathing long and ragged. The feeling of our bodies connecting in this way again is stirring up some very intense, suppressed emotions for both of us.

It has been more than a year since I last had sex. And for two before that, it... it wasn't good... at all. But this with Gio... this is what I've been craving deep down for so long. It feels exactly right—mind, body, and soul.

"Fuck, Ren," he groans. Then whispers low in my ear. "I've missed you."

My eyes go wet, and tears escape them as I close my eyes and just focus on the feel of his strong arms holding onto me. The steady rhythmic sensation of Gio inside me, pushing in with long, slow, desperately deep strokes. 

♥︎♥︎♥︎

https://youtu.be/eydko8sPQVk