Jessica’s mouth fell open. “Your girlfriend?”
“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” His breathing picked up. “Have me, Ashley. Please have me.”
***
Of course she’d taken the ticket. Of course she’d forgiven him. Not because he’d given her the “girlfriend” title. Not even because she’d wanted it.
No. She’d forgiven Leo, because she still needed him. Chet had said it best. He was her job, her mark. A pawn to be used for information and then discarded by any means necessary.
Her eyes rose to the mirror’s reflection, and she told herself she wasn’t a bad person. She wasn’t wrong for doing her job.
So why couldn’t she make herself believe it? Was it because, for the first time in their relationship, her lies were the only lies that remained? All of Leo’s “ugliest parts” had been exposed and beat to the ground. A part of her had almost wished his apartment hadn’t been empty when she’d followed him through the door that night, that he still had a harem of naked women loitering around.
At least then, she wouldn’t be the only terrible person. The only fraud. The only liar. At least then, her lies wouldn’t stand alone.
Her ugliest parts still rang true. So much so that she found herself cringing at her reflection in his master bathroom as she pushed her hand under the hem of her dress. The sound of the tape ripping away from her skin bounced off the walls as she pulled the wire out, dropping it on the counter. She stared down at the black cord, scratching her nails against the granite countertop before snatching it up and shoving it into her purse.
He’d laid himself bare that evening on the tower, and her body had exploded with warmth, passion, a blinding need that sent stars flying behind her eyes and straight to her throbbing center. She’d tried to remind herself that he was her mark, an irredeemable dog, even as she pushed her tongue past his eager lips. She’d trusted the words in her head until he’d zeroed in on her and kissed her with intent, pressing his desire to her stomach as he yanked her body to his. It had taken everything she had to pull away, fearful he would feel the wire. She’d agreed to let him take her home.
Because he’s your mark. A tunnel to Val. A means to an end. And you still need him. Even if it means fucking him tonight.
She stared at her reflection, swallowing. After several deep, ineffective breaths, she swiped a pack of wet wipes from her purse and cleaned herself up. A wisp of extra perfume cooled her wrists before she tossed it into her bag and pulled the bathroom door open.
Leo faced the door on the edge of his king mattress, adorned in black bedding, leaning forward on his knees with his hands clasped. He stood when she emerged, a shy smile spreading his lips.
“Hey,” she whispered from the doorway.
“Oh hey, Wednesday.”
Breaking eye contact with a grin, she fingered the bathroom wall before flicking off the light switch.
He held her eyes as the light diminished, leaving only the dim lamp from the hallway spilling into the dark room. Licking his lips, his fingers visibly shook as he watched her from across the room. He took the bottom of his t-shirt in his hand, hesitated just enough to give a hint of his heaving abs, and then inhaled deeply before tugging it over his head.
Jessica’s eyes followed the fabric. He released it, and it fell to a heap at his bare feet.
Her eyes moved up his long legs, his tight stomach, the art on his arms, which rippled with more urgency with every quiet second that passed. He didn’t close the space between them.
She dropped her purse to the floor, meeting his hooded eyes with a desire-filled gaze of her own, running her hands down the front of her body, feeling her own abdomen rising and falling.
She was no longer in denial. Since high school she’d wanted a piece of this man. To find out why there was a never-ending line of girls thirsty to get to his dick. If she was going to destroy him and his family, she concluded, she might as well have a little fun while she was at it.
After he came, and then passed out, she’d plant enough hidden cameras in his apartment to put JFK Airport to shame.
Her body ached for that moment. Not for the moment she bugged his apartment, but the moment before the remnants of his pleasure lulled him to sleep, the moment when he slammed in deep, driving for a comfort only she had to give, filling her with his desire, his hardness spreading channels of her body that belonged only to him, even if she’d convinced herself they didn’t.
She looked down at her dress and faltered. Nudity was inevitable. If she was going to have sex with him, she’d have to get naked, and getting naked was always the hardest part. Peeling the clothes off. Baring herself to a man. Letting him see her stretch marks, her jiggly parts, all the imperfect little passageways she’d mastered hiding under strategically executed outfits, and an endless supply of Spanx.
Her heart felt like it had relocated to her throat when she bent down and took the hem of her dress in her hands.
Leo’s eyebrows pulled, darkened orbs lingering on the dip in her neckline before falling to the hem of her dress. His desire to see it off was so plain in his eyes, it was as if he’d already made love to her ten times in his mind.
Jessica stood tall, bringing the hem of her dress with her as she did.
He watched with rapture as the dress rose past her full hips, red panties, heaving abdomen, red bra, and finally over her head, making her hair tumble down into her heavy eyes. The dress lingered in her hand in much the same way his shirt had lingered in his, and she tossed it away with a deep breath.
Unable to stop herself, her hands crossed over her body and covered her hips, where the white marks were most prominent. Marks that signified all the weight she’d lost, all the hard work she’d done, had somehow been deemed something to be ashamed of. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew they should be a badge of honor, not contrition. Still, she wanted to hide—to hide away Beer Belly Borgia, even if it had been a beer belly he’d secretly longed for.
Leo moved to her and took her wrists, entwining their fingers and pulling her hands away from her body, eyes falling to take her in. His breathing picked up, and he released one of her hands, clutched her waist and pulled her in. Their lips smashed together. With a soft tilt of his head, he deepened the kiss, moaning against the wet sweep of their tongues and falling to his knees the moment they pulled away.
Jessica clawed her fingers into his hair as he went to his knees, placing feather-soft kisses along her body the whole way down. He tongued the stretch marks dashing down the sides of her waist, lapping a path across her stomach and over her belly button to get to the marks on the other side. His fingers sank into the small of her back as he sucked the salty skin, warming it under his gravelly moans.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He looked up at her, dipping his fingers into her panties just as their eyes met, tugging them down her thighs. He followed the fabric with his lips, pushing kisses into every inch of her skin until the lace was at her ankles.
She stepped out of the panties, one foot at a time.
He kissed the top of each foot, eager hands running a race back up to her calves, over her thighs, coming to a stop cupping her ass.
He clenched the plump globes, tugging her heat to him and burying his tongue between her wet folds, finding her clit in an instant.
Jessica’s hands went deeper into his hair, pulling it as she cried out. She lifted her leg and wrapped it around his shoulder, tugging his head deeper into her wetness.
A purr escaped her swollen lips when he pushed two fingers inside her from behind, head rotating against her slickness as he licked and probed her all at once.
“Yes, Leo, God…” she whispered, gasping when he stood and swept her off her feet, moving her to the bed.
A pawn, Jessica. Her mind screamed messages her body was unable to receive as he laid her on the mattress. That’s it. A pawn, a mark, a means to an… oh fuck yes.
She spread her legs and his broad shoulders pus
hed them even wider when he covered her heat with his lips and tongue once more.
He wasn’t just a pawn. He was a man who’d whispered to her his deepest secrets and insecurities. A man who’d opened himself up completely. A man she could foresee herself spreading wide open for, and not in the physical sense.
He’ll never forgive you.
She knew he wouldn’t, so she vowed to enjoy this. His soft tongue massaging her sopping clit, warm lips trapping her swollen walls, thick fingers circling an unbearable path at her entry, eliciting a raspy scream. Her back arched off the bed, and she hoped this would be enough.
Having him once is enough.
It had to be.
So she took all he gave, the intense pleasure driving her hips into a slow grind against his busy lips, a grind he matched with a swirl of his head. A devious smile spread on his lips, and his laughter warmed her pussy.
“You’re gonna make me cum, Leo,” she gasped, clawing at his hair. “Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t, not when she released his hair and replaced it with his sheets, nearly ripping them off the mattress. Not when her back left the bed once more, shockwaves rocking through her body. Not even when her euphoric cries grew strangled, hoarse, until she couldn’t produce a single sound outside of the desperate gasps escaping her swollen lips. Her juices took up residence on his patient, probing mouth, her flavor soaked his knowing tongue, and not until she’d collapsed onto the duvet, spent, legs spread wide, did he remove the rest of her clothes and his, crawling onto the bed after her once he was completely bare.
She pushed herself up to her elbows, bare breasts still heaving. Her wide eyes drank in his hardness as it moved between his strong thighs, salivating to get her lips around it. He’d already taken her breath away, so losing more air to the taste of him not only seemed a small price to pay, but one she was anxious to. She wanted to feel the tip at the back of her throat, but he got his lips around one of her swollen nipples before she could make her thoughts a reality, eliciting another throaty groan from her as her hands went back into his hair. Her body rebounded and recharged as he licked and sucked each nipple, fingering whichever bud went lonely while he sampled the other.
She took his arms and tugged, drinking in his soft laugh as he allowed her to flip him onto his back.
Their heated lips met, urgent moans dancing, and he played her nipples between his fingers contentedly, in time with their roving tongues. The smile vanished from his face when she slid down his body, the condensation that had moistened their skin joining and mixing as she did. His engorged dick came between her fingers, and she drank in his hushed gasp, licking her lips in anticipation.
“Yes, baby.” His hand went into her hair as she moved, holding her eyes. “Please, Ash.”
She jammed her eyes shut against the sound. That sound.
Ash.
She suckled the head of his hardness between her lips with a vengeance, as if loving it with enough vigor would wipe that name away, and the feelings that ate her alive every time he said it. She heard him hiss, felt his fingers clawing her hair harder as she took as much of him in her mouth as she could. His size spread her lips to the brink, the biggest she’d ever had. His girth was topped only by his length, and she moaned when the head tapped the back of her throat unexpectedly, leaving plenty of his shaft left to take in a full fist. So she did. She clutched him with eager fingers and worked them in sync with her lips and tongue, sucking, lapping, loving every inch of him with the same tenacity he had her.
His moans soothed her like a slow song, and she sucked to the rhythm he didn’t even know he was making, the tip of his dick swelling like a deep bass at the back of her throat. Her pussy tightened with jealousy at what her mouth and tongue possessed.
She drew a hard suck, moving up his twitching shaft, and met his eyes, smiling around his column when his music grew stronger, darker, strangled groans scratching his voice.
“Not like this,” he begged. “I need to be inside you.”
She released him from her lips with a plop, catching the weight in her hand and flicking at the tip with her tongue, loving the pained expression on his face so much she was sure she would never need anything else again to continue on living. Not food. Not water. Not even air. All she needed was that deep darkness in his eyes. That undeniable relinquishing of all human control. That love. Those quaking fingers as they nearly pulled her hair from her scalp.
“Please,” he whispered.
She couldn’t help sneaking one last taste, licking the swollen tip. A line of precum held on to her tongue as she pulled back and met his eyes.
“Jesus,” he hissed, eyes going almost black, as if he were moments from propelling himself back between her lips and cuddling his dick on the bed of her warm tongue, a tongue that was still soaked with his desire.
He tugged her back up, their moist bodies sliding together once more before their lips rejoined.
She kept greedy hold of his hardness as they kissed, giving him a taste of himself while stealing a taste of herself.
He gasped when the press of their lips grew passionate, flinching as she continued stroking him. He slapped his hand to the dresser drawer to the side of his bed blindly, never breaking the embrace. The crinkle of foil filled the air, and she stole it from his fingers when she saw they were shaking too wildly to get the job done in a timely manner. She needed him now, and her years on the force had left her with a steady hand that he didn’t have. He couldn’t. Not when he was this deep in the throes. So she claimed the condom and got it on him in seconds, straddling his hips and pressing the head to her soaking center with a desperate cry.
“Yes,” he breathed, jamming his eyes shut.
A whimper split her lips when he entered her, his size pushing her apart as no man ever had.
“You’re amazing, Leo.” She smiled at him.
“You take my breath away—” His voice broke, and something inside him sent his hips propelling upward, filling her to the hilt. He screamed, taking her ass in his desperate hands.
“Yes, Leo. Please. Get it,” she begged, pushing against his hips as he fucked her, matching his thrusts.
They rocked for ages, sheets growing damp with their hard work. Their sweat soaked bodies, their lips, and their moans became one. Leo put her on her back without missing a thrust, filling her with deep strokes. Their juices met and made music in the room, and she took his ass in her clawed hands, pulling him deeper, letting him know it was okay to get a little rough if that’s what he needed.
She knew it was what he needed.
She wanted him to have her until he hurt her.
She hoped, maybe, if he hurt her enough, they would be square.
But even as he pounded blindly, spreading her just short of ripping her apart, it didn’t hurt.
All she felt was love.
23
When Jessica stepped into the house in Westchester a week later, she avoided Chet’s probing hazel eyes, moving to the fridge. His gaze annoyed her. She could feel it following every move she made.
“I was acting,” she said, not even looking at him as she opened the fridge. She didn’t even remove her purse from her shoulder. She had a sneaking feeling she’d be storming out.
More silence. She dared a look at Chet and found his eyebrows raised high.
She wasn’t in the mood. “Please don’t tell Harp,” she begged. “I was acting.”
“The fuck you were, Jess.”
“It was nothing.”
“You killed your wire. Again. For an entire week, you have consistently killed your wire within an hour of arriving at Leo’s apartment. Gosh, I can’t imagine why. Or can I?”
She scoffed.
“Jess, I have never, never,” he shook his head rapidly, “ever in my life, seen you purposely kill a feed. Now I can say that you’ve done it seven times, in seven days.”
“I know,” she cried, her hands going into claws. “I am so completely… fucking fucked.”
“Why the hell do you think?” She surrendered. “I’m sleeping with him, Chet.”
Chet looked away, running his hand down the front of his face. “Stupid. Stupid as hell.”
She seized the last beer from the fridge and ripped the top off. After several healthy swallows, she stared off into space and then turned toward the island, letting her head and her purse fall onto it. “Fuck.”
Chet watched her. “So what’s next?”
Jessica met his eyes.
“You can’t keep working this case now that you’re in love with one of the prime suspects.”
“Who the hell said I was in love with him?”
“Oh please.” He laughed.
“You’re wrong.” Her voice shook, and she knew Chet could hear it. See it. The emotion had to be plain as day in her eyes. “I’m about to close this thing, Chet, and nothing on Earth is going to stop me.”
Chet stood. “I’m speaking to Harp.”
Jessica slammed her beer down on the counter. Liquid came flying out of the rim. She heard it slosh onto the counter as she stomped across the room.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” she seethed.
Chet turned to her, holding his hands out. “You fucked him, Jess. It’s done. You’re no longer capable of being objective. Every thought that runs through your mind when you’re with him, from this moment on, is completely tainted. Clouded. Can’t be trusted.”
“How dare you speak to me like that? I’ve been doing this job for a long time, Chet, and I have never blown an operation. I have never been made, and I have never walked away until I got what I came for. That is not going to change with Leo Romanovsky, or anyone else.”
“You’re putting yourself in danger,” Chet said. “Why are you so upset right now? Huh? You say you’re in control, but I can see you’ve already lost it. It is clear to me, but not to you, because your mind is not where it needs to be.”
Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) Page 24
