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He gets that indulgent expression as if pleased that I’m giving him some fire. “Can’t a man be interested in his daughter’s closest friend?”
Not if that man’s going to be all hot and heavy one minute and all distant the next. He’s messing with my head to where I’m unsure if I should tell Rosa, pretend it never happened, or leap on him.
“It’s simple. Math is easier than people. It always has been. If it wasn’t for M…”
I don’t finish. I brought that upwaytoo easily. For some warped reason, I feel like I can speak to Leo. He sits on the bed. We both know this is a mistake, but he does it anyway.
“Your mother?” he asks. “I know you lost her.”
I swallow and avert my gaze. “I would’ve studied it sooner, but with the move and catching up in high school…”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“You know what it’s like, losing somebody,” I reply, forcing myself to look at him. “Angelica.”
I expect a reaction to this. Maybe he’ll get mad at me for mentioning his one true love, or he’ll get intense and upset. Or look at me as if to say,Why is this spank bag talking about a real relationship?
Instead, he sighs and says, “That’s complicated.”
“You light candles for her every day.”
“I’ve never lit a single candle.”
I gasp. “What? Why?”
“Enough, Emma,” he says gruffly.
“Go to your room. Enough. You really think you’re the boss of me?”
He shuffles down the bed. Maybe he’s noticed the change in my tone. His musky scent drifts closer, every inch of his body tempting.
“I am the boss of you. I could order you to do anything I wanted, and you’d do it.”
He’s almost growling, voice low, as he moves so close he’s almost sitting on my textbook. My knee is barely an inch from his back. He’s forced to sit away by the angle of the bed, but he turns his powerful body and plants his fist on the sheets. He stares in that nothing-else-matters style.
“Anything,” he says.
“Is this a dream, too?” I whisper, arching my eyebrow.
He groans and then takes my hand, pulling me toward him. Our touch sparks together hotly, pleasure shimmering up my arm and dancing around my body. Then it explodes when he brings his lips to mine. He kisses me passionately, climbing onto the bed as I gasp and moan through the kiss. It’s the texture of his lips, the pleasurehe’staking in it, his tongue.
Oh, God. We’re kissing hard now, Leo suddenly on top of me, my hands on his shoulders as our tongues strike and create sparks of temptation. His hand is on my leg.
My bare thigh, stroking higher, my pussy already tingling from the memory of last night and the promise of more. He pushes his hand down on the outside of my shorts, grinding the fabric against my pussy. Then he pauses as he realizes.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” he says, groaning.
“Sometimes, I don’t,” I whisper, “in these shorts. They’re comfortable. Obviously, if I’m going somewhere else, I’ll put some on. I’m not a sl-sl…”
Slob, I was going to say, but then he pushes my shorts aside and starts rubbing my naked pussy. He massages my folds, strokes my hole, and then kisses me again. I lose myself in the motion of his hand, his finger teasing my wet entrance, his lips against mine.
His body gently pushes against me, powerful and weighty, owning me with his pressure.
I’m yours, only yours, forever yours…
I want to scream it as he pulls my shorts down. I could keep my legs together or bend my knees awkwardly to stop him from pulling them down to my shins. As he removes them, he kisses down my thigh. Each moment of contact is a blistering point of heat, my hole aching in anticipation. I don’t tell him to stop as I look past his silver-haired head and hulking body, even when I look at the open door.
As he kisses me closer to my entrance, he guides my shorts over my ankles, then grabs my thighs like they belong to him, like he’s addicted to me already. I gasp, whimper, and moan, feeling a million miles away and more present than ever. He grabs my legs with complete ownership, then kisses right between them. He pauses near my hole. His body is shuddering. I can feel it through his grip.
