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Smirking like he knew I was bullshitting him, he pivoted and settled back against the counter, crossing his ankles. “Yeah?” His chin tipped up. “Who with?”
I rolled my lips over each other. “Riley.”
He folded his arms across his chest, the fabric of his soft blue shirt stretching around his biceps. “Try again.”
Storming toward the fridge with an eye roll, I yanked it open and tossed the bowl back inside, then spun to face him. Fucking Riley had clearly sold me out. Scheming wench. “Shouldn’t you be balls deep in Ashley’s riddled pussy right about now?” I muttered, tone dripping with disdain.
I didn’t know what kind of reaction I’d expected. But it wasn’t the smile that eased out over his face as he lowered his arms and slid his hands into the pockets of his grey sweats, his eyes intent on me. “I’m exactly where I want to be, Lissa,” he murmured.
His words crept inside my chest and twined around my heart.
Flustered by them, by his presence, his face, his body, his… him, I fisted my hands and threw them out. “Why are you doing this?”
“What? Bringing you dinner?”
My head shook, teeth snatching at my bottom lip. “All of it. Buying cakes. Coming here tonight. Being nice.”
His head dipped, but his gaze held fast to mine. “Because I want to.” Those carved shoulders lifted. “Because I think you need it.”
I froze.
Lifting from the counter, Leon took a step toward me, then another. And then he was right in front of me, encroaching on my space, sharing the air I needed to fucking breathe but couldn’t catch a lungful of.
“Well, fucking stop it,” I snapped, my blood pressure spiking. “Everything’s weird enough around here without you acting like a fucking reformed version of your former self. I’ve got a mother who can’t fucking remember how to bake shit, a sister who’s constantly acting out and pushing me to my limits, Mary Poppins for an aunt, my uncle camping out in the spare room every other weekend, it’s all fucking weird and I need it to stop, and you’re just fucking adding to it, and I—”
My words cut off, a sharp gasp leaving my mouth and my eyes flying wide as Leon’s hands closed around my wrists and he backed me into the fridge door. He pressed his weight lightly into me as my chest heaved in and out from exertion, and stared down at me with blazing eyes, his face unreadable. Shifting slightly, he positioned my arms up against the fridge door and slid his fingers up, twining them with mine.
My heart crashed against my ribs.
“You don’t want nice.” His eyes flashed, voice husky and raw, crawling over every inch of me. “So, what do you want?”
Time suspended, thought and reason fled. My pulse throbbed under my skin, and the muscles in my thighs clenched, trying to ease the aching need his proximity sparked.
Jaw pulsing, Leon lowered his head and shifted until his thick leg wedged between both of mine, nudging them apart then pressing directly against me. My head fell back, colliding softly with the hard surface on a low moan I couldn’t have contained if someone ordered it with a gun pressed to my head.
“God,” I breathed, eyes tight, my head sliding back further.
“Wanna talk about it? Tell me what’s going on?”
No. No, I didn’t want to fucking talk. I shook my head.
The scruff of Leon’s jaw grazed the column of my throat as he traced his lips down. It was the barest of touches, but it struck like a bolt of lightning, and my stomach flipped.
“Want me to take your mind off it all, Lissa? Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice rough, hot breath scorching my skin.
Drawing my arms above my head, he slid his mouth up my jaw then hovered over my lips. “Open your eyes, Snow Queen.”
I blinked them open, my heavy-lidded gaze clashing with his, and lust—raw and urgent—raged through me.
“Is that what you want, Lissa?”
With his steel-blue eyes locked on me and his strong hands holding mine captive above my head, I buckled. The physical onslaught was too much, the depth of desire burning in his eyes too strong. And I was so fucking crazy with need for him, I didn’t want to stop and consider just how deep it ran. I just wanted to fucking feel it for a minute.
“What are you waiting for, Pretty Boy?” I breathed.
His eyes flared. “That’ll do.”
And then his mouth smashed against mine, hands dropping to grip the sides of my head as he drove his thigh up and ground it into me.
