Page 61 of Let the Light Shine Through

Her eyes fly to mine, but I’m already pinning her with my own fiery gaze. If Gia wants to go down this road, then she better fucking come prepared. Since she appeared in my life, I’ve felt jealousy so fucking deep, I could’ve sworn the devil himself replaced the marrow in my bones with the visceral emotion. And Gia’s reaction to Annalise shows she feels it, too.

Her humorless laugh pierces my skin, needling its way in. That’s jealousy, isn’t it? She’s jealous?

“Narcissism doesn’t look good on you, Roz.”

“Yeah, well, jealousy looks incredible on you,” I argue, giving it one last try to get her to admit it.

“Fletcher was right. You really are oblivious.”

“Fuck Fletcher. And fuck you, too.”

Maybe I am oblivious. Maybe I’ve read everything fucking wrong from the very beginning. Maybe…

“Kiss me.”

One command and I’m across the room in two strides, lifting Gia off her feet. Her legs swing around to cross at the ankles behind my back seconds before I slam her against the wall, my nose running the length of her jawline.

“Are you sure? Because if I kiss you now, I’m not coming up for air.” I only got one kiss left; I plan on making it last. Fuck morning. Fuck tomorrow. It’s just her and me, me and her.

She laughs, the sound wild—like her. “Am I gonna have to revive you?”

My laugh counters hers, and I tell her, “You already did,” before sealing my lips to hers.

She takes what I give her, her nails biting into the sides of my neck as she gives it right back, too, and we kiss for I don’t know how long: months, years, lifetimes. I never want this kiss to end. I want my mouth on Gia always.

Drawing her bottom lip between my teeth, I swear a purring sort of sound comes from her chest, making mine fucking swell.

With Gia pinned against the wall with my lower half, I tug her flannel down over her shoulders, pushing her tits together with the material grasped in my hands. I kiss my way down to her cleavage, murmuring, “Where’s your bra?” With the exception of Salvy’s funeral, I’ve only seen Gia wear sports bras, but now she’s not wearing a bra at all. Wait, was she wearing one at the funeral?

“Where’s yours?” she returns, her hands restless in my hair.

I grin against her skin before I catch the neckline of her romper with my chin and pull it down, sucking her bare nipple into my mouth. Fuck, she tastes good.

“Roz,” she moans, trying to buck into me, but with me holding her to the wall, she’s not going anywhere.

“Perfect,” I say around her peak. Absolutely fucking perfect.

Gia removes the flannel completely, dropping it somewhere by our feet, and with my mouth busy feasting on her tits, I slide the straps of her romper down an arm at a time until her entire chest is on display.

I jerk away from the wall and walk us over to my bed, setting Gia at the edge of the mattress when I drop to my knees. She immediately tries to scoot back, but I bite one of her nipples to keep her from moving. Her yelp drips with desire.

“Don’t move,” I mumble out while frenching the fuck out of the reddened nipple.

I slide two of my fingers in through the opening of her shorts at her thigh, going straight for the front of her underwear.

What the fuck? Where is it?

“Do you have a tickling fetish you forgot to mention?” Gia asks when I keep fumbling around.

“Where’s the hole?” I ask against her skin.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew your way around. Do you need a map or will simple directions get you there?”

“No, the dick hole.”

“Umm, Roz—”

“In your underwear.” Every pair of men’s underwear has one, it’s how we piss without pulling our pants down. I thought I’d be able to slip right in to finger Gia, but what feels like an impenetrable wall of fabric has me struggling to get anywhere.