Page 84 of The Ones We Hate

“Where’s Sam?” Piper breathed.

“Class,” Leo managed before covering her mouth with his. He knew why she was asking—she didn’t want anyone else to know about them, and it felt like a slap to the face. But any hesitation he had quickly disappeared when Piper’s tongue slid between his lips. How the fuck she always tasted so sweet, he would never understand. One drink of her, and he was intoxicated with the scent of her lemon shampoo and the feeling of her soft lips. The hard jerk of her hips into his tented pants as she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth reminded Leo how much he liked when she took control. “Use me to practice saying what you want,” he murmured against her mouth. “Boss me around, princesa. Take up space.”

“Your grandma told me that same thing.” Piper sucked in a breath as she thrust her hips forward again.

He groaned, shaking his head. “Please don’t bring up Abuelita when we’re about to have sex.”

“Good point,” Piper chuckled. With a swift push of her hands against his chest, she stood up straighter. “Take me to your room. Now.”

The demand was like a thickening agent for Leo’s cock and had his heart hammering behind his ribcage so hard he could hear it in his ears. His body instantly knew what to do, latching onto her hand and pulling her down the hallway to his bedroom. He opened the door and tugged Piper inside without a second thought, and hesitated only when she paused to look around.

Leo’s room was nothing special: just four white walls, his boxing stuff crammed into one corner, a bed, and a shitty particle board desk he had bought at a garage sale with a folding metal chair to accompany it. He had all sorts of papers strewn atop the desk and a dusty mason jar holding half of his pens, pencils, and highlighters. The others, of course, were scattered on top and underneath his school and script work. He could see now that he had left the cap off a highlighter, which was probably dried out at this point. The black cloth hamper in the corner had a shirt dangling off the side, and his bed was just a simple metal frame with no headboard, a mattress with jet-black sheets, and a dark green comforter. Compared to whatever interior design perfection Piper’s room must look like, Leo imagined his room must scream “poor person chic” or “jail cell.”

“You’re probably used to something a bit more posh,” Leo said. Piper’s childhood bedroom—which he had committed to memory the second he stepped inside—had a mattress that probably felt like laying on a bed of clouds, while he avoided a certain corner of his own mattress because the springs had broken through most of the padding, and he could feel them trying to dig their way through the final layer if he sat directly on top of it. Most everything in his room was disposable, and yet, Piper’s eyes found the few things that weren’t.

Piper looked back over her shoulder as she picked up the small metal director’s chair off his desk. “This is exactly how I imagined your room would look like.”

“Cheap?” Leo mused.

“Temporary. You’re always moving on to bigger and better things.” Piper thumbed the metal figurine in her palm and turned to face him, holding it up. “Except this.”

“Varo made that.” Leo nodded. It had more sentimental value than monetary despite how good Alvaro was at making tiny metal masterpieces.

“Mmm.” Piper placed the chair back on his desk and pulled the handcrafted, leather-bound journal propped against the wall to her chest. “And this?”

“Moreno gave it to me when I got the scholarship,” Leo said. It was currently blank because he had had grandiose ideas of using it for something important and had no idea what exactly that would be.

Piper set the journal back down and leaned against the desk, her palms pressed into the fake wood behind her as she looked him over, her blue eyes still hungry. “Take your shirt off, Leo,” she directed. Leo obeyed, reaching behind his neck with one hand and dragging his black T-shirt over his head as Piper pointed to the boxing equipment in the corner. “Show me how you use that.”

The anticipation was clawing at his insides, but Leo moved toward the small black duffel hanging off the hook on his closet door and pulled out his wraps. Slowly, he bound his hands with material in the way his father had taught him to do and let his gaze wander over Piper’s body as he did so. She was watching him like a hawk, and he had half a mind to redo the wraps when he was finished because Piper looked as though she was about to grade his participation. He only moved on because he needed to touch her at some point soon.

Once his boxing gloves were on, Leo yanked the punching bag out from the corner, bear-hugging it into submission away from the wall. He gave Piper a cocky grin before taking his first set of punches, landing his blows with strength. He hadn’t thought to try impressing anyone but his own family or his opponent before, and, as far as he knew, Piper had zero idea how proper boxing technique should look, but he refused to be sloppy about it. She told him to show her, so he not only needed to do it, but he needed to do it well.

Sweat started to percolate on Leo’s forehead as his muscles worked, continuing the drills he had been using for the last month to get his libido under control every time he thought of Piper. This time, with her watching, it was only ramping him up. He only stopped when he saw Piper moving in his periphery, coming to stand beside him.

“Show me?” Piper’s voice was small again, like she thought he would say no, but she should have realized by now that Leo could never say no if she was asking.

“Harder.”

“I’m trying!” Piper heaved out a sigh and swung at the punching bag he was holding.

“Put some weight behind your swing.” Leo gave her the go-ahead again and gripped the bag, hoping he would feel it when she punched this time. Piper’s face screwed up in concentration as she bounced on her feet, arms held up in a fighting stance. Her face said she was serious, but Leo had to bite back a smile because she looked like more of an angry Tinker Bell than a stone-cold killer. She swung again, but it still didn’t have much heat. “You’re not breathing. Breathe with your punches.” Piper moved again, and Leo chuckled. “Elbows in… tuck your chin, too—nope, your chin is tucked now, but your elbows are chicken-winging.”

“This was supposed to be sexy and empowering. I just look stupid,” Piper sighed in defeat, her arms going limp at her sides.

“Everyone looks stupid when they start because it takes practice. Plus, my mitts aren’t your size. Here.” Leo maneuvered behind Piper and grabbed her hand, pulling her around to face him with her back to the punching bag before he knelt on the floor at her feet. Piper looked down at him, her eyes giving away that she was remembering the same thing he was: the last time he had been kneeling below her. “This leg,” Leo curled his fingers around her left calf and pulled forward, “should be in front and parallel to your back leg.” He slid his hand up the inseam of her pants and watched as Piper squirmed under his touch. He took his time drawing out the tension, waiting for her to snap.

When Leo finished adjusting Piper from the waist down, he rose slowly in front of her, so close that his front brushed all the way up her body. Piper had to be aware of the game he was playing given the way she was leaning into each touch. His head at her eye level now, he gently set his pointer finger under her chin and used his thumb to tuck it into her shoulder, the way he would to protect himself from a painful blow to the face. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and watched with a heavy gaze as he slid his hands over her shoulders, down her biceps, and to her wrists, where he pulled one hand close to her face, making sure her forearm was straight, and set the other out from her chest.

“That’s good, right there. That’s the stance,” Leo finished and stepped back. He was pleasantly surprised to see the brief flash of disappointment on Piper’s face when he stopped touching her, but he proceeded with the instruction. This wasn’t just foreplay, but a lesson about confidence and feeling strong in both body and mind. He wanted Piper to feel the same way he felt when he boxed, so he held up his cupped hands in front of himself like makeshift pads. “All right. Hit me, and make sure to follow through.”

“Okay.” Piper nodded and took a deep breath. A calm seemed to settle over the room as her focus went steady. When her fist swung and connected with his hand, Leo absorbed the punch easily, but he could feel how much more power was behind it.

“Better,” he assured Piper when her gaze met him for approval.

“That felt good,” she said.

By now, Leo was so turned on by the entire show that the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “Mm-hmm.”

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