Chapter 75 Chapter 75

Chapter 75 Chapter 75
Massimo 

Snow floating outside the bedroom window is the first thing I see on Christmas morning. The flakes sail through the air until they reach their eventual destination on the ground. In the hours between nightfall and the pale sunrise, we’ve had two more inches.

I scrub a hand over my rough, untrimmed beard and glance to the small bundle at my side—Ayanna’s curled up under the covers still deep in her dreams. She looks as angelic as she had in mine, but instead of twirling about for me like so many dreams before, she’d been at my side as we moved hand in hand.

We’d been slow dancing as if it were our wedding.
We never danced at our wedding. Ayanna never even smiled that night. Instead, she’d cried. A realization that leaves me with a pang of guilt.

I’m stuck in my head as she stirs next to me. A sleepy smile naturally spreads on her face the instant our eyes connect and she realizes I’m already up. 

My arm slips under her to pull her against me, my thoughts shifting to how good it is that she’s in my bed. That we’ve managed to come out on the other side of these chaotic past few weeks. We’re stronger for it.

Times that have been difficult but perhaps necessary.

I press a kiss to her lips. “So good of you to join me.”

She stretches her torso and legs against me and yawns, “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. But long enough to notice you sleeping.”

“Is this about how I snore again?”

“Yes and no.”

She laughs and pushes a hand to my defined shoulder. “Massimo! For the last time, I don’t snore.”

“I beg to differ, bella. Next time I’ll record you.”

The sheepish curve to her lips and flutter of her lashes tells me she’s amused even if she won’t ever admit it. She springs up in bed, the scarf she wears at night to protect her silky tresses slipping off.

She flounces from the bed in a move almost worthy of an acrobat and scurries toward the minibar.

I’ll never adjust to how agile and fluidly she moves. Always with absolute ease and grace.
She returns a second later with a fresh syringe and vial of my medication.

It’s no surprise. As our days together have turned into weeks, Ayanna’s made it her mission to hold me accountable. She ensures I’m following Doctor Tulio’s instructions as far as my treatments and medications go.

If she can help it, first thing in the morning she’s making sure I’m taking my latest dose. She slides back onto the bed on her knees and sets up a makeshift station along our sheets.

My pills and the vial and syringe. I watch her work as she fills the syringe with the clear liquid and then with steady hands places the long needle to the injection point at my chest.

Our gazes hold for a second, communicating my trust in her before she does it. I breathe through the feeling of the treatment working its way into me. The valves of my heart lurch harder in order to accept the dosage.

Ayanna keeps me sane through the discomfort. She straddles me and clutches my face in her hands to force my attention.

A gesture that might seem small and inconsequential to some, but in the moment, as my heart twinges in pain, means more than anyone can possibly understand.

She leans in close enough for our brows to touch. Close enough that I can almost feel the softness of her lips against mine.

My fingers grip her hips to keep her where she is, my breathing ragged. “Aya, you give my heart strength. This dying heart that was useless to me my whole life you give it a purpose to keep beating.”

Her fingers trace along my jawline. Her lips graze mine, a salty taste to them. She’s started tearing up. “Massi,” she murmurs. “I…”

“What, Aya? Tell me.”

I intertwine her fingers with mine and indulge in a soft kiss. The wonderful feeling guides me through the discomfort ’til I’m more keyed into her warm taste than I am the twitch in my chest.

“I love you,” she murmurs, almost shyly.

A slow smile comes to my rugged face. I thumb her bottom lip and kiss her again. Suddenly, the treatment’s working—my heart’s beating as it should and any residual pain’s gone. Her words have sped the process along.

Which may or may not be true in reality, but it’s how I fucking feel.

Hearing those words from Ayanna is a warm ray of light on a freezing winter day like today.

“Aya, I love you too. You must realize this already. You see how fucking crazy you make me.”

Her giggle is light to my ears. “I’m happy you dreamed about me.”

“They led me to you.”

I roll us over ’til Ayanna slips under me and I’m looking down at her startled brown eyes. Her cherubic features and plump, parted lips are too much to bear. I can’t resist for long, swooping in for more kisses.

I make my way from her mouth and jaw down to her neck. My hand shoves itself between her thighs and rub at her clit through her panties.

She moans against my tongue and gyrates her hips as if to beg for more. The friction I create rubbing the crotch of her panties is quickly making her come undone.

“Oh god,” she puffs out. She rocks into my hand.
I push her panties to the side and slide two of my thick fingers inside her.