Miracle (The Pagano Family Book 6) (22 page)

He pulled out his phone.
You still at the office?

Yeah. Done with appointments. Have paperwork b4 I can leave. You want to come over for dinner tonight?

I’m still in B. Across the street.

You’re coming up, then, I hope.

Yep. Dinner in town?

Ooh! Santarpio’s!

You got it.

Before he got up, he wrote out a long text—there was no way he’d be able to speak everything he needed to say. It took him forever, but when he was done, it said what he needed to say. He let it sit as he crossed the street, went into her building, up the elevator, and through the front rooms of the RTC. He nodded at Shelley at the desk, and she wiggled her fingers in a wave back.

Once he was in the corridor to Tina’s office, he saw that her door was open. He stopped, read over again what he’d written, and pressed send.

She was reading it as he came into the room. He closed her door, then stood and watched as she read the whole thing.

I think I figured something out, so bear with me. I need you not to admire me, at least not for breathing. Don’t protect me, either. I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around. I know some things are harder for me than for normal people, but I don’t like to think that just doing what I have to do to live my life is something worth admiring. Everybody has shit that slows them down. Carlo is fighting with Trey, and it’s got him tied in knots. Manny can’t stand to be touched, and she has these freakouts sometimes that get wicked intense. Katrynn’s family is fucking nuts, and she’s screwed up, too. Theo’s an alcoholic. Sabina has some dark shit in her past. Rosa was just a little kid when our mom died. We all lost our mom, and now our dad. Adele buried two husbands she loved. You’re worried about your mom all the time. Your dad is, too. We all have shit to get over, right? On the other hand, you’re about to get a PhD. *That’s* admirable. That’s fucking impressive. Not many people do something like that. And the work you do—you help people. Every day, you make suffering kids’ lives better. *That’s* impressive. I admire you for the things you do that most people can’t. Breathing? Talking? Everybody does that. I don’t want you to admire me for doing the bare minimum shit to stay alive. When I do something impressive, admire me for that. Otherwise, if you can just love me for me, the way I am, that’s all I want. I love you for who you are. All I want is for you to love me for the same thing.

When she was done, she looked up. With her bangs in her face, he wasn’t sure, but he thought her eyes were a bit wetter than usual. “Can I say something about this?” Yeah, he heard emotion in her voice.

“Just…yes or no.”

“This is hardly a yes or no situation, Joey.”

“Is. …C-can…love me…that way?”

She got up and came around her desk to stand before him. Taking his hands in hers, she said, “Of course. That’s how I love you. Can’t I also admire you for the way you fight?”

He shook his head. “Fucks with…” Rather than finish the sentence, he took one of his hands back and knocked on his temple.

She caught his hand again. After a moment spent contemplating his eyes, she brought his hand to her lips. The corners of her mouth came up in a sly, sexy, smirk. “Okay, baby. I love you for your decidedly average and unimpressive self.”

He laughed. “Good.”

~oOo~

After pizza, Joey drove them over to the Harvard campus in Cambridge. He’d spent some time walking around there over the past several months, when he had time to kill between appointments. College had never been anything he’d even wanted, but he liked roaming around the fancy grounds sheltered by old, imposing buildings. He also liked that the students looked like regular old kids. He’d had half an image in his mind of everybody walking around in black robes, but they were just kids in hoodies and jeans and backpacks, slinking along here like everywhere else.

He’d never been there after dark before, and he was surprised at how quiet it was. Maybe because it was summer. And it was dark, too—the walkways were well lit, but the shadows of the buildings hulked across the grounds, and gloomy nooks and corners were everywhere.

They sat down on a grassy expanse of lawn. Tina lay back and looked up at the sky. Sitting, Joey looked up, too. There weren’t many stars, and only a sliver of moon, but the sky was a clear, deep blue.

“I applied here for my undergraduate, but I didn’t get accepted.”

He squeezed her hand. Their loss.

“It’s okay. My dad would have been upset if I hadn’t gone to a Catholic college. He loves the Jesuits. And I got the education I wanted.” She looked up at him. “Did you ever want this?”

He shook his head. “Hated…school.” Back in the day, he probably would have flunked out anyway—he’d have joined a frat and partied himself right out the door. Even now, it wasn’t something he regretted. He really had hated school, and he had the job he wanted now. But a worry entered his mind. “Bother you?”

“That you didn’t go to college? No! It would bother me if you weren’t smart and interesting, but you are. You pay attention to the world. I don’t care if you took classes and got a degree.”

Turning, he leaned down and kissed her. “Good. …Walk more?”

“Sure. Should we get your tank?”

“No.” He didn’t need it for walking.

In general, he was using it a lot less these days. At the gym after a workout, though even then he didn’t need it every time; when he slept, as a precaution—one of the reasons they thought his hypoxia had been so bad after Pop’s funeral was that he’d slept a few hours without the tank, so his body had been starved for oxygen
before
the first-time-in-a-decade fucking—and, of course, while fucking.

They strolled around the eerily dark and quiet campus and then headed back to the Jeep. He’d parked in a small lot between two stately buildings, and as they headed down the narrow path between the old brick walls, lit only by a single sodium arc light in the parking lot at the end, a powerful urge struck Joey. It came with an image, and he went fully hard at once.

The path was so narrow that walking side by each had been a little awkward, so Tina had stepped in front of him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her around. In the same motion, he pushed her back against the side of one of the buildings.

Her eyes flared wide, and she gasped his name.

He wished he could talk, could say sexy things, dirty things, or simply tell her what he wanted. But it wasn’t possible, so instead he grunted and covered her mouth with his own, as much to foreclose any protest or worry about his damn tank as to taste her.

She didn’t resist him at all. Her mouth moved with his, her tongue glided against his, her teeth nipped at his lips. Her hands grabbed onto his shirt and then, dissatisfied with that grip, went around his torso instead, under his shirt, and she hooked her hands over the backs of his shoulders.

God, he loved to feel her hands on his back instead of the weight of his tank.

She was wearing a t-shirt as long as a dress and the stretchy pants girls called leggings. He worked his hands under the hem of the shirt and found the waistband of her pants.

As he slid his hands over the soft silk of her bare ass and pushed his fingers between her legs, she tore her mouth from his. “Your tank.”

Her concern wasn’t that they were out in the open, and he loved that. But he didn’t give a shit about his goddamn tank. He only grunted again and clutched her tight to him, rubbing his aching cock against her body, so supple and willing. Ducking his head, he latched his teeth on her throat and sucked hard as his fingers found her hot center, and her body trembled in his hold as if a current had run through it.

“Baby, wait,” she gasped.

“No,” he growled and shoved her pants down. “M’okay.” With a step back, out of her clutching embrace, he took her arm and flipped her around.

“Oh, fuck.” She put her hands flat on the brick and bowed her back, pushing out her ass, offering herself to him. Her body rocked gently, her weight shifting from leg to leg. The pale traces of light from the parking lot made her skin glow.

Jesus.

His breaths came in loud heaves, but not painfully so. The pressure, the sensation of his lungs turning to solid stone, wasn’t there.

Capitalizing on this chance, he yanked his belt and jeans open and freed his cock. He spread his legs wide to level out their height difference a bit and slid himself between her legs, through her folds, over her clit, feeling her body wet his. When he slapped his cock gently against her clit, she tensed with a little cry, and her legs clamped around him.

Even as need made her whimper, Tina looked over her shoulder. “You’re really okay?”

He did not want to fucking think about his lungs. Intent not to lose this moment, he grunted and buried himself in her, as hard and fast and deep as he could. He went so hard that he shoved her into the wall, but before he could worry that he’d hurt her, she threw herself backward with a huge, noisy gasp, colliding with his chest. He coughed an exhale and laughed—she’d nearly knocked the air right out of him.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Shhh. Feel.” His arms tight around her, one hand in her pants, seeking her clit, the other working its way under her bra, he lifted her off her feet and rocked his hips.

Holy God. He was deep inside her, and he could feel that she was close already. He had her in his arms; she was at his mercy. Her head lolled on his shoulder, and he could hear every breath, every whimper, right at his ear.

It wasn’t long before the exertion—holding her body aloft, fucking her in the middle of the pathway, all the weight and effort centered on him while he was nearly out of his mind with want—was too much to maintain, and his chest began to feel heavy. Rather than ignore it, or panic, he turned and put her on the wall again, spreading his stance wide again as he set her on her feet. She collapsed forward, leaning her weight on her hands, and he grabbed her hips.

The lessening of his effort and a renewed focus on his breathing eased his chest, and he could devote himself to fucking her properly. As he slammed their bodies together, their grunts and cries mingled and ricocheted off the brick walls.

When she came, her hands slid off the wall, and she folded forward, almost in half. Her body swung loosely with the beat of his thrusts, and she let loose a sharp, grunting cry each time he slammed deep. Her clenching muscles pulled his finish from him, and he came, too, groaning and trying not to let his tensing body cut off his breath.

Once it was over, Joey gathered her close and leaned them against the wall again, letting his forehead hit the bricks. He knew that this was when he most needed breath—right afterward—and he closed his eyes and tried not to lose his shit.

It was close. The pressure was bad, and he could hear in his inhales that he wasn’t loose enough to breathe effectively.

Under him, still full of him, Tina grabbed his hand. “I’ll get your tank.”

“No,” he gritted. “Just… …wait. Stay.”

She stayed, not even moving as his cock softened inside her.

It helped, having her there, holding her, being so literally connected to her. Calm didn’t elude him, and eventually his body accepted the air around them.

After his first decent breath, he eased his hips back and let himself slip out of her.

“You’re okay?”

He nodded.

“How’s your head?”

No headache. Now that his chest was loose, he felt well. “Good. All good.”

She turned inside the frame of his leaning body and wrapped her arms lightly around his neck. “You didn’t need the tank. Can I be impressed?”