And she does. I can feel her wet walls, clenching, drawing me deeper. I follow immediately, my own release crashing through me, my cock pulsing deep inside her.
We stay like that for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths mingling, hearts pounding. Then I slowly lower her to the ground, my hands still gripping her hips, my eyes still locked on hers.
"I love you," I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. "Every fucking part of you."
She smiles, a soft, sweet smile that makes my heart ache. "I love you too, Alex.”
Reaching for her sweater and underwear, I take my time dressing her again, partly because I've missed this and partly because the way she squirms when I go slow drives me crazy.
"COMRADES!" Keith's voice carries from the deck. "THE REVOLUTION REQUIRES YOUR PRESENCE FOR THE FIREWORKS DISPLAY!"
"You have got to be kidding me," I groan as footsteps approach the boathouse. Multiple footsteps.
Mac laughs, still breathless. "At least we finished first?"
"Small mercies." I help her straighten her clothes, trying to look like we haven't just had mind-blowing sex against a wall. "Though I'm seriously reconsidering Keith's employment status."
"No, you're not."
"No, I'm not." I steal one more kiss as voices get closer. "But I am considering soundproofing the boathouse."
We make it outside just as everyone reaches the dock, the sky exploding with color overhead. Mac's cheeks are still flushed, her hair slightly mussed, and she's the most beautiful thing that’s ever been goddamned mine.
"Where were you two?" Lucia asks, green eyes wide, when she spots us.
"Conference call," Mac says smoothly. "Board members in Singapore."
"On New Year's Eve?" Sofia raises an eyebrow.
"International markets never sleep!" Keith declares. "Like the spirit of revolution!”
Another firework bursts overhead, painting the snow in rainbow colors. Mac settles against my chest, fitting perfectly like she was designed for this space.
"Happy New Year," she whispers, tilting her face up for a kiss that tastes like promises.
"Happy New Year," I murmur back, already planning how to get her alone again. "Though next year, maybe we host separate parties."
"Separate parties?" Nonna appears with more wine. "Impossible! Family celebrates together!"
"Speaking of family," Connor stage-whispers to Grayson, "when do you think he'll actually give her that?—"
I silence him with a look, but Mac's already distracted by Keith organizing what appears to be a revolutionary conga line.
"The people demand synchronized celebration!" he announces, his beret now sporting battery-operated lights. "Join us in revolutionary rhythm!"
And because this is my life now - beautiful and chaotic and perfect - I let Mac pull me into the line, watching as my bachelor friends and her Italian family merge into something new.
Something whole.
In my pocket, my phone buzzes with a text from the jeweler confirming tomorrow's appointment to resize the emerald ring that's been burning a hole in my safe since Christmas.
But that's tomorrow's revolution.
Tonight is for this. For fireworks and family and the woman who threw champagne at me and changed everything.
And for performing a few revolutions when I get her in my bed again tonight.
I accept a glass of champagne from Sofia and raise it, letting the memories—instead of the bubbles—wash over me this time.
