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Chapter 5
Atlanta
What is going on?
I came here expecting to kill a man, I even shot at him, and yet here I am, tucked up inhisbed while he answers the door to room service. The smell of breakfast is making my stomach groan, and I remember that he never did finish cooking for us last night.
Last night. I spent the night.
And what happened instead of food was...
Confusing? Yes. Amazing? Also yes.
After he made me come, he brought me to his bed, wrapped tight in his arms, and stripped me, then wrapped me in a soft robe. As I lay there, I heard him taking off his own clothes, then he snuggled in behind me, both of us still filthy with my release, both still sticky with sweat. He kissed me gently on the back of the neck, the big spoon to my little spoon, and I felt his cock nestled up against my ass as I fell into the best sleep of my life.
Leo Brickhouse is not at all what I was expecting, that’s for sure.
I have no idea what time it is, but I do know it’s still dark outside. He thinks I’m asleep. I smile as he whispers thanks to the room service, then moves carefully back into the bedroom with the trolley, trying not to wake me.
So adorable.
The bed dips as he sits on the edge of it, then I feel his fingers against my face, tucking my hair back behind my ear, the gentle touch of his lips as he places them against my forehead.
“Atlanta,” he says softly. “I thought you might be hungry.”
My smile turns to a grin. Should I continue to pretend to be asleep, and enjoy this tenderness? It’s such a contrast to my expectations of him that I don’t know if I want it to end.
But I can’t help myself. If I keep pretending, I’m going to be giggling at any moment.
I nod against the pillow. “Starving.”
“I didn’t know what you’d like. I told them to bring a bit of everything. There’s pastries and melon. Eggs and bacon. Cereal, toast and jam. Probably best if you take a look and get what you want. Or you can stay in bed longer, but I have a couple of plans for today.”
“Ooo, I like plans.” My stomach growls as I think about eggs and bacon. “I’ll get fat if I eat too much though. Just a bit of toast for me, maybe a cup of tea?”
“Baby. I want you to have what you want.”
“No, really, I have to watch my figure. Who’s going to want me otherwise?”
I hear a little growl of irritation. “Atlanta, look at me.”
I roll over and meet his eyes. Those beautiful gray eyes, like an early morning sky, and all I see there is honesty. How can that be possible? How can a man who’s in charge of such a wide-reaching crime empire show nothing but openness in his gaze?
“Atlanta,” he says, his voice deep and rumbling, making my lower lips tingle all over again. “I will want you, no matter what. Big or small, old or young, dressed in rags or a ten-thousand dollar dress. I’ll want you every minute of every day from now until the end of time. I’ll want you if you grow horns and a forked tongue.”
“I bet you would,” I say with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. But he shakes his head, all seriousness.
“I mean it. You’re perfect. I hated what your dad did, putting you down as collateral in a fucking poker game. But I can’t lie to you. I’m glad he did it. It was fate. It was meant to be. And I have to tell you, I don’t think I can let you go.” His voice cracks on those last words, and he draws a breath, closing his eyes as if trying to get himself back under control. When he opens them again, he reaches forward and takes my hand in his, then clasps his other around the back. “Atlanta, nobody else matters but us. And I want you to have whatever you like, whenever you like. I mean it. Say the word and it’s yours.”
For a moment, all I can do is stare. I shouldn’t be feeling the way I am about this man. He’s telling me he’s not going to let me go, and that should be frightening but all it is is comforting. For the first time in as long as I can remember someone actually wants me. I’m not just a burden.
And I know some of the things he’s saying should be comical, but he’s so earnest that they just make my heart beat faster.
I lick my lips, then nod, glancing over at the breakfast cart.
“Bacon and eggs then,” I say, and hear him draw a deep breath, like he was holding it while he waited for my response. “And hash browns. Sausages. Are those mushrooms? I’ll have some of those. Toast. Tomatoes. A bit of ketchup. Oh my god, is that chocolate milk?”
Leo chuckles. “I did ask them to send a bit of everything. You want chocolate milk for breakfast?”
