Leo: A More Than Series Spin-Off

by McLean, Jay

  Caleb doesn’t shut up as suggested. “All I’m saying is she’s hot as hell, and she doesn’t act like a rich girl, you know? So yeah, we’ve all tried to hit it, but she’s so wrapped up in her son, she doesn’t even realize when guys are hitting on her.”

  I cock an eyebrow. “You’ve tried to hit it?”

  He nods. “So has every other guy on this floor.”

  Trent sighs. “Shut up, dude.”

  Again, Caleb doesn’t listen. “I mean, good luck, man,” he says, tapping my shoulder like we’re old friends. “You’re going to need it.”

  I look where he’s touched and then back at him, my jaw tense. I’m two seconds away from smashing his head against the desk. Luckily, in those two seconds, Trent says, “There she is.” I follow the direction of where he’s pointing, and sure enough… there she is. In a simple gray dress and black heels, Mia walks toward me with her head down, waves upon waves of black hair shielding her face. She’s carrying a box filled with rolled-up posters, and when she’s about ten feet away, Trent calls her name. She glances up. I lose my breath. Mia stops walking, freezes completely, besides her lips. They move, but I don’t know what she says. Then her shoulders fall, her chest deflating with her exhale. She drops the box, letting all its content scatter everywhere. And then she’s walking toward me, those heels clicking against the tiled floor, and as soon as we can reach each other, she’s in my arms, and her mouth’s on mine, and this time, it’s not quick, and it’s not chaste. Her tongue slides against my lips, and I part them, giving her what we both need. She’s so soft in my arms, her tongue warm against mine. Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me closer, and of all the reactions I’d hoped for, this wasn’t even in the dream category. When she pulls away, her eyes are glassy. “You’re here.”

  “I am.”

  “For me?”

  I nod.

  She kisses me again. Just once. “Thank you.”

  I smile. “Don’t thank me. I want to be here.”

  After a sigh, she says, “Let’s go.” She walks over to the box and starts putting everything back in. I turn back to Caleb, wearing a smirk that’s completely intentional. And then I give him the finger. Because I’m twelve.

  Mia takes me to her office, which is floor-to-ceiling glass. The first thing she does is lower the blinds so no one can see in. I lean against her desk and drop my backpack to the floor. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she says, and she’s so much of everything all at once.

  I take her hand and pull her between my legs, my palm going to her jaw. “I hate that you’re having a rough time. So whatever I can do, I’m here, okay?”

  “When do you leave?” she asks, big brown eyes blinking up at me.

  “Sunday.”

  Her smile is slow as she leans into me, her arms trapped between us. She rests her head against my chest, saying, “I just need you to hold me for, like, five hours.”

  I chuckle, tightening my arms around her and kissing the top of her head. “Anything you need, Mia.” I only get to hold her for a few seconds before her door bursts open, and her dad appears. He’s looking down at his phone as he mumbles, “Do you want to tell me why people are talking about you almost cry…” He trails off when he looks up and sees me.

  “Hey…” he says, eyeing me sideways while Mia pulls away, stands taller. “What are you doing here?”

  He offers me his fist for a bump, so I return it, saying, “Mia was having a—”

  “He just came to surprise us,” Mia says, cutting me off.

  “Wait.” I look between Mia and Joseph and settle on Mia. “You were crying?”

  Joseph closes the door behind him and heaves out a sigh. “What’s going on, Mia?”

  “Nothing,” Mia replies, crossing her arms. “I’m fine.”

  Joseph looks above Mia’s head at me, and I shake my head. Mia must notice because she turns to glare at me, then goes back to her dad. “I’m fine,” she repeats.

  He watches her a moment as if trying to read between her words. “Mia…” It’s almost threatening, the way he says her name.

  Mia’s arms fall to her sides. “I’m just overwhelmed, okay? I haven’t had as much time to work on the Ludlow account, and I had other work I had to submit for class, so I’m a little behind because Benny’s been sick and—”

  Joseph’s nostrils flare before saying, “And you didn’t think you could come to me and tell me?”

  “I don’t want special treatment because I’m your daughter!”

  Joseph scoffs. “If any of my employees came to me and said their kid was sick and needed an extension, I’d give them a break. Sure, maybe not before, but now? Come on, Mia, you know better!” He runs a hand over his face, trying to settle his irritation.

  “I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Mia’s voice is so quiet, I barely hear her. “I’m sorry.”

  Joseph’s eyes snap to hers, and then an emotion washes over him that has his entire body relaxing. “Jesus,” he mutters. “Come here.” Mia steps forward and into her father’s arms, and he holds her, stroking the back of her head. “You will never disappoint me,” he says, just above a whisper. “I’m sorry I’ve done things in the past to make you question that.” His voice cracks with emotion on the last few words, and I feel like I should leave. Like this moment between them isn’t for my eyes and ears.

  I shift, uncomfortable, and Joseph releases his daughter. “Go home,” he tells her.

  “Dad, no! I can—”

  “Go home,” he repeats, and it’s an order this time. “Go directly home. Do not pass the condo; do not collect a Benny.”

  I crack a smile at his Monopoly pun, and Joseph notices, his eyes conveying a message I can’t decipher. “How long are you here for?” he asks me.

  “Just until Sunday.”

  He nods, then, settling a hand on Mia’s shoulder, he tells her, “We’ll figure out the Ludlow account on Monday. It’s not a priority. You are. Relax, take some time for yourself. I’m going to call Bernado’s and have them deliver lunch, so you better be there.”

  “Dad, I—” Mia starts to protest, but Joseph’s already on his phone, tapping it a few times, and then bringing it to his ear.

  “Go home, Mia,” he says, halfway to the door. “Let Benny’s dad take care of you.”

  My breath catches, and Mia gasps so loud it rings in my ears.

  Joseph looks between us, his eyes narrowed. “How dumb do you think I am?” He throws in an eye-roll for good measure. “The kid’s a spitting image.”

  Before either of us can say anything, he’s on the phone, muttering out his name and a bunch of fancy terms for pasta. He covers the phone with his hand and says, “The limo’s downstairs waiting.” And then he closes the door behind him.

  I have so much information to process from the last few minutes, but my brain—the moron—latches on to the most insignificant detail. “You have a limo?”

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Mia

  As more people step on the elevator, I hold the phone tighter to my ear and press my back to Leo’s chest. There’s more than enough room for everyone to fit, but I want to be this close to him. And going by the way his arm curves around my middle, he wants it, too. Just as I think the call’s about to ring out, Tammy answers. “Your dad just called,” she says in lieu of a greeting. “No coming by the condo. I’ve blocked access to the elevator. Benny’s staying with us tonight, so—”

  “But Leo’s here,” I cut in, turning in his arms and glancing up to meet his eyes. “I’m sure he’d want to see him.”

  Leo responds by narrowing his eyes and holding me closer.

  “You can come for dinner tonight. Six thirty,” Tammy says. “And then you’re gone, okay?” Tammy rarely speaks to me like this, so when she does, I know there’s no point in arguing with her. She hangs up before I can respond.

  “Sorry,” I tell Leo, pouting and dropping my phone in my bag. “No Benny until dinner.”

  Leo just stares
at me, his eyes holding mine. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t move a single muscle until we’re at ground level. He holds on to my hand, our fingers linked as I lead him to the limo. When I get into the car after him, I notice him scanning the space, his eyes darting around. His lips curve when he must find what he’s looking for, and he reaches across to the button console. A second later, the privacy screen lifts, shielding us from the view of the driver. He turns to me, his smile sheepish, and rests across the long bench seat, his back against the corner, one foot on the seat, the other on the floor. “Come here,” he says, motioning for me to slide between his legs. As glad as I am to have him here, as hard it is to control myself around him, fooling around in the back of the limo isn’t really appropriate. Especially since I have to see Henry, our driver, daily. Leo rolls his eyes when I scrunch my nose at him. “You wanted me to hold you, right?”

  A girly little giggle erupts from deep in my chest, and I don’t bother hiding my giddiness when I lean into him, my back to his chest as he wraps his arms around me, pressing his lips to my temple. Craning my neck, I look up at him, saying, “I can’t believe you’re here.” I’d been so overwhelmed, feeling like there was no way out of it, and then he showed up, unannounced, looking lost and a little wary, and I had no idea how much I needed him. Just him. I heave out a sigh, cover his hand resting on my stomach, and push up to kiss the stubble on his jaw. He catches my lips as I pull away, kissing me once.

  “I need a favor,” he says. “Just for this weekend.”

  Concerned, I try to turn to him, but his tight hold stops me. “What do you need?”

  He lifts a hand, cradles my face as his eyes bore into mine. “I need you to let me take care of you, Mia.”

  “Leo, you don’t—”

  “You’ve been doing so much, and you’ve been doing it on your own for too damn long—Benny and work and school—and I’m not saying you need help, I’m just saying…” His heavy exhale fans across my cheeks. “Just let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

  It takes the wicked smirk to form on his lips for me to process what he’s saying, and before I can retort, he’s kissing me, his fingers grasping my hair, tugging my head back to give him better access to my mouth. And there’s something so filthy about the way his tongue brushes against mine, something so perfect. He inhales my moans as my fingernails dig into the strong muscles of his arms. Our bodies jolt forward when the limo takes off, and he never pulls his mouth off mine. “Fuck, Mia,” he groans, and I’m reminded of the last time we were in this position. We were in the back of Holden’s truck before our fake date, and I can still recall the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me. “If I were a lesser man, I’d flip you on all fours, lift up that dress and fuck you from behind right now.” The memory, the visual, creates a throb between my legs, and I try to press them together to ease the pressure, but his hand is there—right there—and I don’t even know when it happened. He pulls his mouth away, allowing me to fill my lungs with their life source.

  But then his hand covers my breast, his thumb stroking the tip, while he sucks at the spot right beneath my ear. My eyes drift shut while his hand between my legs glides higher, higher—“Spread those perfect fucking legs for me, baby.”

  My head falls against his chest while my legs part, my breaths harsh against my throat as I try to breathe through the pleasure swarming through me.

  “I’m going to appreciate every single inch of you,” he murmurs against my ear. “With my hands first…” He strokes me through my underwear, and I’m sure he can feel it—how wet he’s made me. “And then my tongue… and then my cock.” He accentuates that last one by lifting his hips, pressing his hardness against my butt.

  My moan would make a whore jealous.

  His mouth crashes against mine as his fingers push my underwear aside. Cold air hits my center, and I don’t know where I am or what I’m doing or where the heck to put my hands. The tip of his finger strokes through my slit, so fucking slow, I almost yell at him to just shove them in and finger-fuck me until I come all over his hand.

  Oh, no.

  Only Leo brings this out of me.

  Never anyone else. Ever.

  He stops just short of pressing down on my clit, and then makes his way back down, and I cannot breathe. “Why are you teasing me?” I moan.

  He pulls away completely. No more hands. No more mouth. Only a smirk beneath his heated eyes as he pushes me away. “You said you’d sit on my face if I ever teased you again.” He shrugs, so lazy and carefree as he looks out the window of the moving car. “You better come through on your threats, Mia Kovács.” I scowl, which only makes him laugh. “I’m just kidding,” he says, tugging on my arm to bring me back to him. He drops a kiss on my shoulder. “If I didn’t stop then, I would’ve taken you here, in the back of a limo, and that’s not really how I want things to go.”

  Well, he has a point, and I’m glad he could think straight because I sure couldn’t.

  At my non-response, he drags me over his lap until I’m sitting across him. After a quick adjustment of his private parts, he raises his hand, strokes the blush on my cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Eyes on mine, he says, “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m…” I consider lying for all of one second. “Exhausted… and horny now”—he chuckles at this—“and much better now that you’re here.”

  His eyebrows kick up. “Yeah?”

  I nod. “I needed you, Leo,” I say, spreading my fingers over his broad chest, feeling his heart beating beneath my palm. “I didn’t even realize you were the cure until I saw you. It was like I could breathe again.”

  His kiss is gentle, soft, and intimate. “I want you to need me,” he murmurs against my lips before pulling away. “I hate that I can’t be here for you.”

  “You’re here now.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “That’s all that matters.”

  He’s quiet a long moment, his fingers mindlessly twirling a strand of my hair. “I’ve missed you, Mia,” he murmurs, voice so soft I barely hear him. My chest aches at his admission. Two fingers beneath my chin, he lifts my eyes to his and runs his nose along mine. His eyes drift shut, right before he says, “It’s been ten years, and you’re still the only girl I’ve ever wanted.”

  I kiss him.

  With everything I have and everything I am, I kiss him, hoping to show him with the action alone how much he means to me. He’s the first to deepen the kiss, his hand gripping my hair and pulling hard. When the limo stops just outside the lobby, I pull away in a daze and then giggle as I watch him trying to pull himself together. He’s in workout shorts, so he has no real way of hiding his erection. I lick my lips as my eyes lock on the outline of his—

  “How horny are you?” he says through a chuckle.

  I shrug, feeling the heat roll up my neck to the tips of my ears.

  When the driver opens the door, I slide out first, Leo right behind me. He walks through the lobby and to the elevator, with his front against my back, his hardness pressed between us. He doesn’t speak a word as we walk to my apartment. The second I open the door he’s on me. Hands and mouth and everything all at once, and I push away the questions, the insecurities, the what ifs… until his fingers tug on the zipper of my dress. I freeze, lock up. And even through his lust-filled haze, Leo notices. He reads my body better than anyone. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes unfocused.

  I step away, my back against the door, because we’ve barely made it a foot into the apartment. Shame forces my gaze to lower, my voice to crack. “My body’s not the same, Leo.” I hate that my insecurities show up right now and that those insecurities are strong enough to make my eyes water, my breaths halt.

  Leo doesn’t reply right away, doesn’t move, and when I look up at him, he’s watching me, a frown so deep it hurts to look at him. “Mia,” he whispers, stepping closer. He cups my jaw in his hand and kisses the tears clinging to my lashes. “I’m going to spend my entire existence proving that you have, a
re, and will always be perfect to me.”

  And so that’s what he does. For the next hour, he shows me—in his own Leo way—how he sees me. He mutters filthy words between declarations of my beauty, of how the scars from carrying our child only make me sexier.

  And then we talk, buoyant in our conversations—light and meaningless.

  We don’t talk about what this means or how it can affect our son. We don’t talk about the unpredictability of our futures or the necessary choices we’ll soon have to make.

  We act as if we’re seventeen again and we have the entire summer together, or our entire lives if we want it.

  We don’t even remember the lunch that Dad ordered until we leave the apartment for dinner and see it just outside the door. We ignore the food… just like we ignore all of our unspoken uncertainties.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Leo

  “What?” Mia laughs. “You are!”

  I glare at her, my brow pinched. Of all the things people could say to offend me, I never thought the words helicopter parent would be included. “I am not!”

  “You are so,” she says, pushing me to walk backward toward the park bench. “Benny’s fine.”

  As she says this, I’m aware that my eyes are back on Benny, watching him climb one of the playground structures. Kids are running around him and above him, and it would only take one of those little shits to knock into him and cause him to fall, break a bone, maybe even get brain damage. My eyes narrow. “Careful, Benny!” I shout, and Mia presses down on my shoulders, forcing me to sit.

  “He’s fine,” she says, and I’m sure she’s rolling her eyes, but I’m too busy watching Benny to look at her. I feel her sit down next to me, her body pressed to my side. I throw an arm around her shoulders. “Leo!” She’s laughing. “We come here all the time. He can get around this playground with his eyes closed.”

  There isn’t even any grass or rubber below the equipment. It’s just concrete. Everywhere. There’s barely any grass anywhere that I’ve seen. In order for Benny to play outside, we need to walk or catch a cab to a park. We can’t just open the door and be like, “Have at it, kid.”