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He curves over me, his eyes, searingly intense. I feel the heat and hunger radiating off him, colliding with my own. My head spins. I’m torn between throwing him out and wishing he’d throw me to the floor. But Leo isn’t going to make it easy. He’s forcing me to decide. A tug-of-war of impulse and commonsense rages inside me. My rational mind screams to resist, while my body craves to be fed.
There will be time for recriminations later, right now, this blistering urge wins the battle.
“Kiss me, Leo,” I pant softly, “and make me not regret it.”
He groans, and cupping the nape of my neck, seals his mouth over mine. I inhale, sucking his breath into me, shocked by the contrast of how his lips can be supple and yielding, yet the pressure he exerts is so firm and demanding. I hear myself moan at the slick thrust of his tongue driving into my mouth.
Leo tastes of everything I want, hot sex and turned-on man. I grip his broad shoulders for balance as his other hand slides up my rib cage to fill his palm with my breast. Through the leotard my nipples peak.
“I want to see them,” he murmurs, circling his thumb around one tip. “I want to know what colour they are. I want to kiss them, taste them, feel them in my mouth, against my tongue, against my face.”
I moan his name as he tugs down the material. My bare breasts pop out from the tight confines of the spandex, revealing what his evocative words had readied for him. A low growl of approval rumbles in his chest. My mind in a fog, I watch his head lower, and his tongue dart out to lick one coral-brown tip: finely, elusively, a flick here, a flick there. I arch my back to hasten the direct contact until I’m surrounded by the hot, moist trap of his mouth.
Keening with pleasure, I plough my fingers through his hair and hold him there securely while he sucks and licks, my pulse hammering like hail beating against a windowpane.
He barters one pleasure for another, his tongue chasing my goose-pebbled skin to the other breast, treating that nipple to the same focused attention, while he slides his hand over my stomach and between my thighs. I instinctively open for him, and my breath catches when his fingers run along the panty of my leotard, pressing tight, giving me the friction I need. Desire rises up to devour me, to eat me alive. I writhe, completely out of control, dominated by something stronger than myself taking over me.
And then his fingers and mouth are suddenly gone. Grumbling a curse beneath his breath, he yanks up my top to cover my breasts and positions himself in front of me. I stand there, soaked and confused, having been all too willing to let him fuck me right here in my place of business. But through the haze of lust, I realize Leo reacted so abruptly because someone is here.
Zay.
Oh my god.If he had arrived a minute later, he would have caught us going at it like animals. It could have been one of my clients. What was I thinking?
“Who are you?” Leo asks, sounding agitated and maybe even jealous.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Zay responds with attitude. “Are you okay, Baby Girl?”
“Y-yes.” Embarrassed, I step out from behind Leo. “Zay, this is um…Leo. Leo, this is my best friend and roommate, Isiah.”
Zay sizes him up, and Leo does the same in return. The testosterone zinging between them is enough to unsettle every ovary in a thirty-kilometre radius.
“Could you give us a minute, Zay? Please?” I implore when he hesitates.
“Hm-mm, I’ll be right out here.”
Once he’s gone, Leo turns to me. “You live with him?”
“We live together. We’ve been friends since the fifth grade…wait, why am I explaining this to you?”
“Because I just had my hand between your legs.”
“A mistake. A brain-fried moment. It’s a good thing he showed up.”
“Like hell it is. You want me as much as I want you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say even though he’s right. “We were saved from doing something stupid.”
“I’d argue it was just bad timing.”
“That’s the point, Leo. All we’ve done since we met is argue. We have nothing in common except for sexual chemistry.”
“That’s enough. Come home with me,” he whispers roughly. “I want to make you come. I want to fuck you and hear you scream.”
If words alone could induce an orgasm, I’d be in the throes of one right now. I press a clammy hand to my warm face. “We should both cool off and think things over.”
“What’s there to think about?”
“Whether I should sleep with a man I don’t even like, and who doesn’t respect what I do for a living.”
