“So I talked to Craig about Murphy,” she said when he’d caught up to her at the stairs.
“And?”
Her takeaway from the conversation had been that public interest was on Declan Murphy right now. He had a big mouth and a huge fan base. Craig hadn’t come out and said it, but it sounded like he thought a fight between Murphy and Leandro had the potential to generate a lot of income for the WFC. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the fight kept Leandro on the hook—something Craig had neither confirmed nor denied. She wouldn’t mention that to Leandro, though. “You were right. There’s nothing I can do.”
He laughed as they walked down the stairs to the first floor. “Thank you for trying.”
“It’s the least I could do. I’d like us to be friends.” When he didn’t say anything to that, she glanced up at him as he pushed open the glass door at the front of the building. He seemed pensive, his eyes hooded as he gazed down at her. That look did not say he wanted to be friends. It sent awareness racing over her skin, leaving goose bumps behind.
She walked by as he held the door open for her, and his nostrils flared ever so slightly, making her wonder if her scent affected him like his did her. He followed her to the sidewalk and she came to a stop beside what she assumed was his Ferrari. It was the flashiest of the four cars in the parking lot. Of course he’d managed to snag the best spot nearest the door. He lived a charmed life.
“You and I . . .” He came to a stop next to her. “We’ll never be friends, minha linda.” She looked up at him, and he touched a length of her hair, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger, before dropping his hand. “Not when we want more.”
She sucked in a deep breath, and every muscle in her body clenched. Her physical responses to him were getting ridiculous. “Being friends is better than being enemies.”
He pulled his keys out of the pocket of his expensive-looking jeans. “Are those the only two options?” He grinned and walked around her to toss his bag in the trunk.
She was out of her element with whatever game he was playing, so she decided to ignore him. “I’ll email you the details of the new interviews.”
“Where’s your car?” he asked, seemingly uninterested in talking about work.
She nodded to the white sedan she’d had since college parked across the lot. When she’d pulled in and found all the spaces near the door filled, she’d intentionally parked under the only light in the parking lot.
“I’ll walk you over,” he said.
She shook her head. “That’s okay. I’ll be fine. Good night, Leandro.”
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t follow her and she could feel his eyes on her again as she walked away. She couldn’t help the secret smile that stretched across her face. She liked that he was attracted to her. It made her feel sexy and desirable. Confident and feminine. Pulling her keys out of her purse, she pressed the button to open her trunk and placed her laptop bag inside. When she closed it and moved around to open her door, a large figure moved from the shadows behind the streetlight.
“Holy shit!” She brought a hand to her chest and pressed herself back against her car. A man stepped out of the shadows and into the light. “Jason, you scared me.” He was as tall as Leandro, but his muscles were the kind that came strictly from lifting weights, so he was bulkier. She’d met him at the gym and, at one time, his physique had been attractive to her. It was only after going on a couple of dates with him that she’d realized how superficial he was. Everything was for show and nothing was real.
God. Exactly like Leandro. She really did have horrible taste in men.
“What are you doing here?”
“You blocked me, Ashlynn. Wouldn’t return my calls or texts. What did you expect me to do?” he asked, coming to a stop a couple of feet in front of her.
“I did return your texts and told you to leave me alone. Get a clue.”
“Don’t be like that, Ash.” He smiled and reached for her like they were dating and simply having an argument.
She put her hands out and he stepped back. “It’s over, Jason. We’re not dating. We’re not friends. I don’t want to talk to you or see you anymore.” After their second date, she’d invited him in and they’d started making out. He’d come on really strong and had been a little rough, pulling her onto his lap and holding her there when she’d tried to climb off. When she’d finally made him slow down, he’d been an asshole about it, telling her she was acting like a bitch and calling her a cock tease. She’d made him leave, and he’d been trying to get her to see him again ever since.
“So you’ve moved on. Just like that.” He cocked his head toward where Leandro had been parked. “Who’s that? You already fucking someone else?”
Ashlynn glanced over her shoulder, starting to wonder if she’d be able to handle Jason on her own. Relief flooded her when she saw Leandro’s Ferrari still there. “He’s none of your business. We’re done, Jason.”
“We’re not done.” His attention back on her, Jason stepped forward, nearly caging her in against her car. His voice lowered to almost a growl as he said, “You can’t just bounce on my lap, get my dick hard, and then say we’re done.”
She put her hands on his chest, but he didn’t budge when she pushed. Her heart pounded in her ears as she realized he wasn’t going to go away.
“Hey, jackass, get away from her.” Leandro came around the back of her car. His eyes were hard as he stared at Jason, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jason asked, but he stepped away. She took a deep breath.
“I’m the man who’s going to fuck up your face if you don’t leave her alone.” Leandro kept coming toward Jason steadily so that he had to back up. It allowed Leandro to move between her and Jason, making her feel safe for the first time since Jason had approached her.
“This is none of your business, man. This is between me and Ashlynn.” Jason held up his hands, but Ashlynn saw a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. He wouldn’t fight Leandro.
“I don’t want to talk to you, Jason. Go away,” she said from behind Leandro’s shoulder.
“This isn’t over between us.” Jason pointed at her, but he backed out of the lot and jogged down the sidewalk to his car.
Ashlynn sagged with relief as Leandro followed him to the edge of the parking lot. When it appeared Jason wasn’t coming back, Leandro walked back over to her. His hand was warm on her back as he asked, “Are you okay?”
She nodded, trying to catch her breath as adrenaline pounded through her. “Yeah, thanks. I’m not sure he would’ve gone away if you hadn’t chased him off.”
“Filho da puta,” he muttered, glancing back to where Jason had disappeared down the dark street. “Ex-boyfriend?” he asked.
“No, we went out a couple of times, but . . .” She shook her head. She couldn’t remember now why she’d gone out with him even once. Asshole.
Leandro’s hand moved up and down her back in a comforting caress that drew her attention to him. He looked down at her with concern on his face. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
And suddenly she felt bad for ever having compared him to Jason. Yes, Leandro seemed to live a life that catered to his every whim, but sometimes—like now—when he looked at her like that, she got the impression there was so much more to him below the surface. He could be kind and thoughtful. “I can drive myself. Thanks.”
He nodded. “Do you think he’ll go to your home?”
She didn’t think so, but then she’d never expected him to show up here. “I’m not sure.”
“I’ll follow you then, just in case.”
A few minutes later, Ashlynn pulled into the small driveway in front of her town house. Leandro had followed her the entire way, his headlights reassuring in her rearview mirror. When they’d turned into her neighborhood, she’d looked for any sign of Jason’s black Jeep, but she hadn’t seen it. Thank God.
She’d expected Leandro to keep going, but he
surprised her by pulling to a stop at the curb in front of her house. By the time she got her laptop from her trunk, he was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps leading to her front door. She was hit by a wave of attraction as he watched her approach. The sleeves of his T-shirt were tight around the muscles in his arms. His hair was mostly dry now, and some of it had fallen forward across his forehead. She liked him like this, a little less put together. A little more approachable. A little more real.
“Thanks again for your help.”
He shook off her gratitude. “It was nothing.”
She came to a stop in front of him, but he didn’t move or speak. He just kept watching her with those intense eyes. She kept thinking of what might have happened had he not been there, or if he’d left instead of waiting for her to reach her car. Hell, he could’ve left even after he saw Jason. But he hadn’t. He’d stayed. And at the children’s hospital, he’d more than fulfilled his duty. He’d stayed and made a connection with the kids. He even apparently bought books for orphans.
He couldn’t be all bad.
“D-do you want to come in for a drink?” She heard the words but couldn’t believe they were coming out of her mouth. And yet she found she wanted him to say yes. She wanted to talk to him, to spend more time with his eyes on her. What would happen if he came in?
As if she didn’t know.
He smiled, his mouth tipping upward at the corners. He made a sound in the back of his throat, something that was half groan, half laugh, but all male. He leaned forward, and she had the strangest feeling that he was going to kiss her. Her mouth tingled as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, but he stopped just inches away, his gaze on her lips. His breath was hot on her skin as he said, “Can’t, minha linda. I have an appointment.” Regret flickered in his eyes as he drew back.
Disappointment came crashing into her, followed by shame and embarrassment. Why was she inviting him inside when that was the last thing that needed to happen between them? “Right. Of course.” He had an appointment at ten o’clock at night. That was code for meeting a woman. What other kind of appointment would he have so late?
She opened her purse for her keys but realized she was already holding them in her hand. “Um . . .” She fumbled her way up the steps. “Thanks for tonight. I’ll see you later.”
“Lock your door behind you, Ashlynn. And if he shows up, call me. Yes?”
She nodded and then unlocked her door, not looking back at him as she hurried inside. She locked the door behind her and closed her eyes, hoping that when she woke up in the morning she’d forget all about asking him in.
But even if she forgot about it, she had a feeling Leandro wouldn’t.
6
LEANDRO SAT IN his Ferrari, still parked at Ashlynn’s curb, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel. Even though he had somewhere else to be, he couldn’t quite bring himself to start the car and drive away. Instead he sat in silence, watching lights come on as she moved through her house.
He’d been so angry at the way that bastard had moved into Ashlynn’s space, clearly making her uncomfortable. He’d been a bit taken aback at the surge of protectiveness he’d felt at the sight of her ex caging her in against her car. And even more surprising was the wave of possessiveness he’d felt. He’d hated the sight of another man so close to Ashlynn, even though they were practically nothing to each other.
And yet, when she’d invited him in, he’d chosen to sit in his car instead. Idiota. Maybe she’d only asked him in because she was scared the douche would show up, which Leandro doubted; men who bullied women were cowards. He pulled his hands off the steering wheel, wondering if he should hang out for a little while, just to make sure that asshole didn’t show up. But he knew his reasons for wanting to get out of the car, knock on her door, and pull her into his arms were anything but selfless.
When he’d started working with her, he’d wanted to get Ashlynn in bed so that he could have the upper hand in the situation. From the moment she’d walked into his house, he’d assumed that if he got her under him, he’d be able to do whatever he wanted, no questions asked. But somehow, without him fully realizing it until tonight, his motivations had shifted. He still wanted her, but the reasons why had morphed into something he didn’t recognize. Something he didn’t know what to do with.
There was something about her that he craved in a way that was both exciting and unnerving. Initially, he’d seen her as the enemy, and the attraction had been purely physical. But as he got to know her, the list of things that drew him to her grew. He liked the way she pushed back—she was strong and determined. The way she took her job seriously—she worked hard. Then there was the way she’d seen his side of things and hadn’t automatically backed Darcy—she was kind. She’d even gone to bat for him with Darcy. She cared, and had shown that she was in his corner. She was smart and driven, and all of it turned him on more than he’d have thought possible.
He saw her silhouette against curtains upstairs in what he assumed was her bedroom, her curves softly outlined in the play of light and shadow. God, those curves. He no longer wanted to conquer them. No, he wanted to play, to explore, to learn.
Still staring up at her window, he allowed himself to imagine if he’d said yes to the drink. She’d been so adorably flustered that he wouldn’t have rushed things, letting her drink her glass of wine before finally allowing himself to taste her. Her lips soft and pliant beneath his, a hint of wine still lingering on her tongue. His hands tracing those curves as he slowly peeled her clothes off. The weight of her breasts in his hands, her nipples beading beneath his fingers, his name falling from her lips, breathless and desperate. Ashlynn writhing in his lap, her breasts in his face, her ass wiggling against him as he discovered how wet and hot she was with his fingers. God, that ass. That fucking ass—he wanted to slap it, bite it, squeeze it, mark it as his. See it bounce against his hips as he fucked her from behind, making her scream for him, making her beg for more as he lost himself inside her.
His cock stiffened and he rubbed the heel of his palm over the bulge in his jeans, trying to tame the insistent throbbing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman like this, not for his own sake, but for hers. To give them both what they wanted. What they needed. To watch her fall apart in his arms. To take care of her and give her that release.
He moved his hand to the door handle, but then his phone chirped from the small console.
Onde diabos você está????
It was from Thiago: Where the hell are you????
Shit. Shaking his head in frustration, he started the car and peeled away from the curb. As much as he wanted her—wanted them, together—it would have to wait for another night. He had other things to attend to that wouldn’t wait.
By the time he arrived at the deserted dark road about thirty minutes later, he’d managed to get control of himself, instead focusing on his mounting adrenaline the closer he got to the track. Well, if you could call it a track. A stretch of road in the desert wasn’t exactly official.
A few dozen people milled around, hanging out in groups around various high-end sports cars. The scent of hot pavement and burned rubber permeated the air, and Leandro parked the Ferrari, his eyes surveying the competition as he looked for Thiago. A new race was just starting, a steel-gray Lamborghini revving its engine beside a white Porsche. The man in the middle dropped his arms, and the two cars took off, engines roaring, tires squealing. Leandro’s heart kicked in his chest, and more adrenaline flooded his system. Sure, street racing was illegal, but there was nothing like the rush that came with it. Pitting himself—and his car—against the other drivers, the high that came with a win, the glory of being alive after taking a risk. It was a thrill he craved.
He sucked in a breath of dry desert air and made his way to where Thiago stood with one of the organizers, shooting the shit. After the week he’d had, he needed this.
THE NEXT MORNING, Leandro rolled over in bed, his phone buzzing insisten
tly from his bedside table. Whoever it was could leave a message—it was too early to deal with anything except trying to get back to the sex dream he’d been having about Ashlynn. The phone stopped buzzing, and he sank back into his pillow, trying to conjure the images from the dream back up. Ashlynn sprawled on her desk in the deserted WFC offices, her dress shoved up around her waist, Leandro’s pants around his ankles as he buried himself deep inside her, over and over again. So hungry for each other they hadn’t even bothered to get naked.
Yes. He wanted that, and so much more.
His phone started to buzz again and this time he sat up, giving up on getting back to dreamland Ashlynn. He glanced at the screen and groaned, pushing a hand through his disheveled hair as he read Craig Darcy’s name.
He cleared his throat and swiped to answer. “Yeah?”
“I need to see you. My office. Thirty minutes.” He hung up without giving Leandro a chance to reply.
Leandro tossed his phone down onto the bed and threw the sheets back with a grumble. Normally, he started his mornings slowly, gently, with coffee and breakfast, and then some laps in the pool before moving on to training. Just because Darcy had called didn’t mean he was going to drop everything and rush over to the WFC headquarters to kiss Darcy’s feet. It didn’t matter that those were the first words Darcy had spoken to him since the press conference. Just because he gave orders Leandro didn’t have to jump to obey them.
After showering and shaving, eating a quick breakfast, and packing a gym bag—he’d do his morning workout at the WFC gym since he’d already be down there—he sauntered out to the driveway, his new prize gleaming in the sun. He’d won the sleek black Bugatti Chiron from a punk kid with more money than brains—or driving skills. As soon as he’d laid eyes on the car, he’d wanted it, and he’d worked his way up through the heats to get it, risking his Ferrari, if not his safety, multiple times.
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