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His pupils blew wide as he pressed his lips together. “Mm,” he hummed. “What else? What else do you want?” His fingers curled around my shoulder, slipping through the opening of my hoodie. He kept his pressure featherlight, a mere whisper of a touch, and I shivered.
I strengthened my resolve and finally answered. “You.”
And before I knew it, he was everywhere, his mouth claiming mine with an explosive fury.
Chapter Four
Leo’s kiss was slick and needy, fast and hungry—the kind that happened in the middle of fucking, when two bodies were simultaneously climbing higher and anchoring down into each other. When things became a frenzy of skin and teeth and tongues and hands.
His mouth was dirty, his tongue hot. His fingers were greedy as they explored the topography of my body, taking what he wanted like it was already his. His confidence was potent, and I didn’t mind it one bit. Not like this—this was the one place in my life I was willing to relinquish control—though most of the women I’d slept with over the past few years had been more content to let me take charge.
I’d happily give Leo the power tonight . . . even if I would never let him have it anywhere else.
“I don’t do relationships,” I said into his mouth before he lifted my hoodie over my head and threw it to the kitchen floor. He needed to know before we went any further that this wouldn’t lead to anything more than a good, hard fuck, especially now that it seemed I needed to spend some time readjusting my stance on intimacy with men.
“Okay,” he breathed, his tongue curling along my top lip before he dove back in. One of his large, rough hands cupped my breast over my shirt, squeezing with the most delicious pressure. With what seemed like very little effort, he pulled me from the stool and lifted me onto the island as he thrust his hips between my thighs, bracing himself on either side of my hips and pinning me in place.
The next time he came up for air, I forced more words out into the shared breath between us. “Just a onetime thing,” I whispered as his hands splayed over my waist, the stretch of his fingers easily surpassing the length of my shorts. “You might never see me again,” I added before groaning at the feel of him sucking the skin below my ear. Thank god I’d taken a shower before leaving the bar.
A chuckle rumbled from his chest, shaking through my own. “Okay,” he said again—though, it sounded like he was just placating me.
“I’m serious,” I insisted, ripping my mouth away from his. The sight of him nearly rendered me speechless, nearly tore every thought right out of my head. His lips were pouty and swollen, slick from my tongue. And his hair was falling haphazardly around his face—I wanted to pull it, to wind my fingers through it. But I forced myself to think through this drugging haze. “I can’t commit to anything more than this.”
His blue eyes softened as they looked back and forth between my own. He reached a hand up to my face, lightly grazing my jaw with the backs of his knuckles. The amusement fell from his expression, replaced by something heavier and more sincere. “I hear you.” He nodded. “Just tonight. Nothing more.” Chills ran up my spine at his touch. My hand tugged at his collar, pulling him back into me with force. I was delighted when he grunted into my mouth in response. But then he pulled back again, his face more determined. “We don’t have to do anything more, Mara. This wasn’t what I—” He paused, resetting. “I have no expectations. We can stop this now.”
The thought of stopping made me almost frantic. I shook my head, the “no” spilling out of my mouth without second thought, and his returning grin was so eager it made my chest squeeze. With both hands, he cupped my ass and hoisted me up, turning to take me somewhere beyond the kitchen. I reached between us to unbutton the rest of his shirt, my fingers moving clumsily as they tried to make quick work of each one, anxious to get to the body underneath.
“Fuck,” Leo muttered into my neck, pressing me against a wall as my hands slipped up the white T-shirt I discovered beneath the collared dress one. His stomach was hard, and I could feel the wave of abs rippling beneath his skin. He darted a hand down to where my legs were wrapped around his waist and quickly found the apex of my pleasure, swirling his fingers above the spandex of my shorts, as if to reward me for finding the treasure of his bare skin.
I gasped at the feel of it, at his warm pressure, there.
“Fuck,” he groaned again, eyes glazing as he pulled back to look at me, “that fucking sound.” And then his mouth was consuming mine again as he carried me further down a dark hallway.
There was something exhilarating and just this side of dangerous about not knowing the floor plan of his apartment, of never having been here before and not knowing where he was taking me. The slipping awareness that I’d just met the man whose hands were gripping my body with fervor—and that I’d likely never see him again after this—made me feel like I was floating outside of my own body.
My skin came alive as my own need unraveled. The inferno between us was growing rapidly, setting out to swallow us whole. I couldn’t wait for the burn. I wanted it. Wanted to feel the sting of it for days and days after. Wanted to chase this pleasure, to let instinct take over and take flight with the gorgeous man holding me like I was his prize.
Leo kissed me deeply, and though my eyes were closed, I sensed we’d walked into a dark room. He wound my ponytail around his fist before pulling it to force my face to the ceiling, exposing my neck for his mouth to skate across. I liked how firm he was with me, that he somehow knew I could take it.
“Take off your shirt,” he urged into my skin, his breath warming my collarbone. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, almost laughing at the thought of the words printed on the back: I CALL THE SHOTS. Right now I didn’t want to. Not one bit.
I pulled the shirt over my head and let it fall to the ground. Opening my eyes, I found Leo’s gaze scouring over my chest in the dim light, his line of sight curving along the black lace that hugged my breasts. Beneath my spandex shorts I was wearing the matching thong—it was a set I bought recently at a lingerie shop when I’d wanted to spoil myself after a night of insane tips. I’d assumed it would be Charlea who’d find the lacy material during one of our romps, but the way Leo’s eyes fastened on the see-through material made me glad it was him.
“Your turn,” I whispered, and his eyes jumped up to mine, dark like liquid smoke. He set me on my feet and let me slide his dress shirt down his arms before I pulled the undershirt over his head. My eyes nearly bulged at the carved lines of his bare chest, at the wide planes of muscle beneath his skin. And his stomach—it was an incredible work of art, fit for a magazine cover. Damn.
Leo grinned, and I wondered if I’d accidentally said it out loud. His eyes moved up to the top of my head. “Take your hair down,” he whispered, his pulse thrumming wildly beneath the skin of his neck.
I reached up to pull my ponytail out of the elastic, letting my blonde hair cascade around my neck and shoulders, the bright green and purple streaks more exposed now. As Leo’s eyes roamed the colorful tendrils, my throat constricted with a sudden onslaught of nerves. Leo clearly had fine taste and easy access to pretty things. I was a bartender with a septum ring and colored hair. Maybe this was too much for him—I wouldn’t blame him if it was.
But that doubt was swiftly discarded when Leo’s gaze moved down my body, not touching me with anything but the heat of his blazing blue eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his throat working with a swallow, a sign of his sincerity. And it pierced me right in the chest, inflated me like a balloon.
My eyes stung as an unexpected flare of emotion bloomed at the compliment. I’d spent so much time building up walls to keep myself safe from everyone around me, but sometimes I desperately missed the vulnerability that came with letting someone get close. Something about tonight, about this chance encounter with Leo . . . I felt more exposed than I had in a long time. Like the carefully curated veil was gone, and I was suddenly bared wide open.
After my last long-term relationship ended, my self-confidence and self-worth was trashed. Eventually, I’d found the ability to create a persona for Larkspur—a tough-as-nails, badass bartender who didn’t take any shit. It came with the short shorts and tight shirts that helped earn great tips. My social media page was filled to the brim with comments from complete strangers telling me how “hot” and “sexy” I was and, if given the chance, what they’d like to do with me. And I’d forced myself to exist inside that persona in all aspects of my life. I’d even grown to like it, for the most part. It was a battle suit, and I wore it well.
But hearing Leo call me beautiful—seeing the truth of it in his eyes—was enough to make me second-guess everything in the span of seconds. My defenses had been down with him from the beginning, and I realized I wasn’t Larkspur’s Sweetheart right now. I was here, in Leo’s penthouse, unflinchingly giving him the real me. Needing to be seen by him . . . to be enough.
That was okay, right? At least for one night?
