The words flew out my mouth without a second thought.

Natural. Unfiltered. Real.

I love her—since the first day I saw her, perhaps. On that Metro, her potty mouth and all.

Last night was indeed the best night of my life, as I explored every inch of Daniella’s sensually perfect body—and God, how good it felt when she explored every solid inch of mine.

She shed a tear our first time and later explained how much it meant to her that I held her and made her feel safe during the storm. She’s filled with hurt, and even though I’m dying to know why, last night was not the night for those type of discoveries.

Our flight back to Los Angeles is in less than an hour. I sprinkle soft kisses across her face as the two of us wait in line for coffee at a kiosk near our departure gate. We are both still tired, failing to sleep at all last night, making love as the storm passed through.

Thunder. Rain. Passion.

She smiles up at me, and although she has yet to tell me she loves me, her eyes tell me so.

Who would have thought TMZ had it right? Although we were never quite enemies, we were sure as hell destined to become lovers.

We order our coffees and head to our departure gate, the agent calling out for first class passengers to board, and, once we are seated, I get up the nerve to ask her what’s on my mind.

“Am I gonna need to hire a new Personal Assistant?”

She looks up, her trademarked smarty-pants smirk coming in for a crash landing. “Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off of me at the office?”

I serve her a curveball smirk in return. “Baby doll, that’s nothing new. That was a concern of mine from day one.”

She raises an eyebrow and leans in closer; her flash of cleavage sends me back to last night when I tasted her nipples for the first time. “You can tell me I have to wear short, tight skirts with no panties every day, then spend your lunch hour feasting on my p—”

“Daniella Belle!” I interrupt, placing my index finger over her lips. I seriously contemplate taking her into the first class restroom for a personal induction into the mile-high hall of fame.

She giggles and removes my finger. “I was only going to say picnic lunch. You can feast on my picnic lunch that I lovingly pack every day.” She jabs her manicured finger into my bicep. “Seriously, Mr. Michaels, you should really get your head out of the naughty pit.”

This woman…

She’s everything I need.

Playful. Beautiful. Smart.

“Well, it seems you didn’t mind my head in the naughty pit last night.”

The old lady, sitting in the row across from us, squeezes her legs shut and shakes her head.

“Mr. Michaels!” Daniella says.

And I can’t resist planting a kiss on her lips.

The flight attendant’s announcement startles our locked lips free, and we both lean back into our own seats, waiting for the plane to take off, as we hold hands, our fingers tightly interlocked.

We fall asleep, once again waking up right before the plane descends for a landing.

And once we exit the plane and arrive at the busy spot to claim our baggage, I lean close to Daniella and whisper, “Will you please come home with me?”

She looks up at me, surprised. “I’d like that very much.”

Truth is, I want Daniella to come home with me every single day. For the rest of my life.

* * *

Traffic is a nightmare, and all I can think about during the whole drive home is how much I want to get there and pour into Daniella. And once we walk through the front door, we don’t even make it all the way up the stairs before we rip each other’s clothes off—like gifts to our stored-up desire.

Then I carry her into my room and onto my bed, where we still lie. I swear there is no end to the amount of times I can pleasure this woman. Seeing her react to every touch, lick, and thrust; her body is like a sexual sergeant—keeping me standing hard at attention.

* * *

After our nap, we shower and head to the kitchen to prepare something to eat.

“Maybe we need to order takeout. I’ve got nothing in the fridge—all of the salami is gone.”

“Chinese?” she says, perched up on the kitchen counter looking too adorable in my bathrobe.

“Chinese, it is.”

We head to the living room after the takeout arrives and we eat it in front of the fireplace.

She looks at me inquisitively. “Nonna shared how she came to raise you in this house.”

“Yep she did. I’ve lived here all of my life.” I dip an egg roll into sauce and feed it to her.

“It’s a lovely home, that’s for sure.”

I shrug. “I suppose. But honestly, I’d take a small home away from the city, any day. Some guys have goals of living in lavish homes with a wife and kids. And in ironic contrast, I dream of a modest home with a wife and kids.”

She nods as I feed her more egg roll.

“And you? What dreams of family life do you have, Daniella?”

Her eyelids sag and she doesn’t say a word at first. “I’ve never had dreams of a family life,” she utters as she looks at me with afflicted eyes.

I swallow hard. “And why is that?”

She glances up at the ceiling, tugging at the end of her braided ponytail. “My parents were young when they had me and couldn’t always afford to take care of me. I remember when I turned five, we were all living in a shelter when I was placed in foster care, with a promise they’d come back for me soon. Only they never did.” Tears that shimmer in her eyes run slowly down her cheeks each time she blinks. “I grew up waiting for them to come for me. Every car that pulled up to my foster home, every phone call, I hoped it was them. When I realized they weren’t coming, I lost all hope in the idea of family, figuring they didn’t love me enough.”

I listen to her, open and vulnerable, realizing this is why she’s so hurt. With her parents abandoning her, the idea of love became tainted to her so long ago. She no doubt never dreamed of family life, having had no sense of it growing up, and with the foster mom who didn’t even care enough to comfort her in a thunderstorm, she’s probably grown up feeling unloved her entire life.

I reach for her, and pull her into my arms, holding her as she sobs. “Daniella, my baby, I’m so sorry.”

I hold her for as long as she needs me to before we go back to my room. We don’t even make love; we just lie naked in each other’s arms and fall fast asleep.