by Paige North
I realized that Leo Armstrong and I had inside jokes now. That’s how close we’d become. Real close. True close. Not scamming-for-a-story close.
“Sophie,” Kait said, pulling me back. “Send it. Let me see.” She held out her hand like a teacher checking her student’s work. It was humiliating.
I didn’t want to lose my job, and really, the text was harmless. Just a check-in with Leo. So I hit Send and showed my phone to Kait.
“Good,” she said. “I want to know when he writes, where you’re going, and what he says. Understood?”
“Sure,” I said, completely defeated.
“Now go,” she said, and turned away from me.
When I got back to my desk, Pam was just walking away. She turned back when she saw me.
“There you are,” she said. “I was up early so I read your rough draft. I made a few marks and suggestions. Left it on your desk.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, letting the rough draft remark slide by. She knew it was the final version. “I think Kait is actually putting it on hold. For now, anyway.”
A tiny smirk crept up her mouth. “Yeah, I know. But I figured you could still use some help in the writing department. Better luck next time, kid,” she said, and walked away.
On my desk I found bloodied pages. She went old-school with a red pen and everything. She’d crossed out half my lines and the ones she left had things like Really?? in the margins.
It was total crap. She may as well have taken her red pen and stabbed out my soul.
Next I got a visit from Alexa.
“So,” she said, “I guess you decided to take him to the movies after all, huh?”
Alexa had started to caution me about taking Leo on my New Girl date, but then had pulled back.
“I suppose I should have listened to you,” I said.
“Yeah. It’s so weird how the paparazzi just seem to know where to find the celebrities, isn’t it? Even when they’re at a totally new place.”
She looked so satisfied that I felt like I knew—she had made some phone call and told photographers where we’d be. Alexa had set me up.
I felt like everyone in the office was against me.
It wasn't until almost the end of the day that Leo texted me back.
My apt, 8.
That’s all it said. I had no idea if he knew about the paparazzi photo and if so, if he was mad about it. He couldn't be, right? He was photographed all the time with beautiful women. He couldn't avoid it. As long as he didn’t know who I really was, I was sure I’d be fine.
When I reported the night’s date at his place to Kait she didn’t look pleased or annoyed or anything. All business, out to get Leo Armstrong. I kind of wished she’d yell at me—the quiet fury terrified me.
“I assume his building has a doorman?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said. There’d been many uniformed people in the lobby each time I’d been there.
“Talk to him,” she said. “Doorman, concierge, whoever is there, or both. They surely haven’t signed confidentiality agreements. Get some dirt from them—how many different women he’s brought home, if he has several women at once, any women coming by late at night alone, someone who could be a prostitute. Oh, grow up,” she said, probably noticing the shocked look on my face at having to find out if Leo had prostitutes visiting his apartment. “I shouldn’t have to tell you to do these things. You should know to do them on your own. Don’t let us down, Sophie. Get the story.”
With that, I was dismissed.
17
I walked across the lobby of Leo’s apartment building later that evening in a yellow cotton sundress and flats of my own. Kait had thrust another cleavage-baring dress and sky-high stilettos at me, telling me the wear them tonight, but I’d left them in the backseat of my car. I didn’t want to wear her clothes anymore.
I stopped at the desk—they needed to unlock Leo’s private elevator to let me up once they’d okayed it with a quick call to him. As I waited for Ernie—the same guest manager, as he was called, who had been there on the other nights I’d come by—to call Leo, I drummed my fingers, trying to pull up the nerve to ask Ernie the questions Kait wanted answers to for the story. Part of me still wanted to do my job, and do it well. The other part of me was starting to think it was sort of gross to try to expose Leo, and for what? Dating other women? He was allowed to do that, just as I was allowed to see other men—if I knew any, or had any hint of desire. As it was, Leo was the only person who held any interest for me. He was all I could see.
As Ernie picked up the phone to call upstairs, I said, “I bet you’re doing this all the time for him, huh?” I gave a little laugh, like I was in on the joke.
Ernie held up a finger, and soon he was telling Leo that “Miss Adams” was there to see him. When he hung up and told me I could take the elevator, I gave it another try. “I bet I’m not the first girl to take this ride, am I right, Ernie?” I cringed, hearing myself. I was worthless. I wasn’t sure if I didn’t want to be a reporter, or if I didn’t want to be that kind of reporter.
“Have a good evening, miss,” Ernie said with a sweet smile, his lips firmly closed.
If I were Kait, I’d have him telling me all the girls’ names along with their date of birth and social security numbers. She was cutthroat. She was good.
The ride up in the elevator was nerve-wracking, wondering if Leo was angry about the photo getting out. One look at his face waiting for me down the hall told me the answer—no way.
“There she is,” he said, his grin as wide as ever, and I couldn't contain my own. My face instantly broke into smile at the mere thought of Leo these days. He was the anecdote to all bad things in life. I had to hold myself back from running straight into his arms, especially how gorgeously charming he looked in a dark gray T-shirt and jeans.
When I got to him, I threw my arms around his neck and pulled his body close to mine, holding him tight. His arms were around my waist, gently caressing.
“Bad day at work?” he asked, and I held him tighter. I didn’t want to talk about work. I felt disgusting for trying to press Ernie for dirt on Leo—however poorly I had done on that investigation. “You look beautiful,” he said, looking me over. “Temping must pay pretty well.” He kissed my lips, and I reached up quickly to touch his face, make the kiss last longer than a peck. I held him close, feeling the softness of his lips on mine, taking in the scent of him.
“Come on,” Leo said, gently letting me go. “I have good news.”
He led me across the expansive floors of his giant home, the beautiful nighttime view of Los Angeles flickering outside the windows. We went past the curving staircase to his office, where he sat me down on a button tufted brown leather sofa.
“Here,” he said, his tanned face beaming as he handed over a bonded stack of papers. That familiar cover page that said Untitled Armstrong. “It’s our screenplay,” he said. Our screenplay, I repeated in my head, as Leo continued. “It’s finished. The last round you sent me really got it where it needed to be. Sophie,” he said, sitting down next to me. “I’m going to make this movie, and it’s all thanks to you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I didn’t do much,” I said. “You’re the one who pushed me in the right direction.
“Don’t do that,” he said, taking my hand. He kissed my fingers, his breath warm on my skin. “Don’t deflect a compliment. You earned every bit of praise for this. I’m going to start casting this week.”
“Really? That fast?”
“Why not? I’ve been wanting to do this for some time, and now that the screenplay is completed I don’t want to wait any longer. I’m going to cast unknowns, film it under the radar and release it in a few months. Everyone will be shocked,” he laughed, “that shallow Leo Armstrong can make a movie with no aliens or car chases.”
“Don’t you do that,” I said, putting my other hand over his. “Don’t concern yourself with what other people think, and don’t diminish the mo
vies you do make. You provide a great escapism for people, and God knows we all need that from time to time.”
“How’d I get so lucky to find you?” he said. He held my chin delicately in his fingers, and pulled my bottom lip down with his thumb. He leaned into me and gently pressed his lips to mine, sliding his hands across my face. He held me there as he kissed me softly at first, and then more deeply until the taste of him had me yearning for more, so quickly. Truthfully, all it took from Leo was a look and I was a goner. When he kissed me, I had no hope of resisting. I ran my hands over his strong chest, feeling the muscles beneath his T-shirt before moving to his arms, flexing as he moved his hands across my shoulders and back. He pulled me into him, our chests pressed together, our breath already heavy with desire. I delighted in my tongue on his, tasting him, feeling him on me.
“Sophie Adams, you don’t know what you do to me,” he said before crushing his lips back into mine. I kissed him back, but the sound of my fake name had caught me off-guard once again. I took his chiseled jaw in my hands and moved away, both of us panting. When he moved to go back to my lips, I pushed him back. He gave me a curious look and I answered by sliding away from him, slightly, keeping my hands on his handsome face. He dipped toward me again, his lips eager for mine, but I nudged away again, and this time I slid back into the arm of the couch, just out of his reach.
His eyes gleamed with desire as he watched me. When he reached out for me, I moved my leg up, pushing his hand back with the toe of my shoe.
“Not yet,” I said, and a low growl came from Leo. I’d never had someone so attracted to me—in so many different ways—that he actually growled without even touching me. I slipped my shoes off, letting them drop to the floor, and then I pulled the hem of my skirt up to just below my hips. Leo’s eyes were transfixed, his lips parted and his skin flushed, all at the sight of me. “Show me what I make you want to do,” I said. He let out a moan and practically lunged for me, but I stopped him again. “No. Stay on your side. All the way back.” He reluctantly sat back against the opposite arm of the couch, one leg on the floor, the other bent in front of him. I opened up my legs and reached between my thighs, rubbing the outside of my panties. His bright eyes stared hypnotized as I made slow, deliberate circles around my clit.
“You are so sexy,” he said, his eyes fixed on my crotch. “You expect me to sit here and keep my hands to myself?”
“I expect you to keep your hands on yourself,” I said, and I had not idea where the bravery came from. I’d certainly never done anything like that before. All I knew was that I wanted to keep my eyes firmly on Leo and watch his every lustful expression.
“Take off those sweet little panties,” he said.
“Take off your clothes,” I countered. He didn’t even hesitate, standing up and quickly discarding his shoes, socks, shirt and jeans onto the floor beside him. He took his place back at the end of the couch, never once taking his eyes off me. I never stopped the slow movements of my hand on my crotch. I could feel through the thin fabric how wet I was as I ran my fingers down my slit, the walls of my pussy aching.
Leo stroked the outside of his boxer briefs, clasping the huge bulge of his dick in his palm.
“Sophie,” he said, his eyes heavy. I watched with fascination as the muscles in his arm moved and flexed in time with his hand stroking his dick. “Now you. Take off your clothes.”
I gave myself one more long, slow pass over myself, watching Leo as his jaw clenched as he struggled to breath normally. Then I stood up and pulled the shoulders of the dress down, past my arms and over my hips before stepped out of it. I started to sit back on the couch when he commanded, “All of it.”
I paused, my thumbs hooked into the delicate fabric just below my hips. “You, too,” I said.
Leo stood up, his chiseled chest puffing up with each deep breath he took. He shoved down his boxer briefs and kicked them to the side, and my own breath caught in my throat. I’d seen him naked, but never standing before me like some Greek god statue. His dick stood tall and angled toward me, as if it knew where it needed to go. Leo took it in his large, smooth hand and gave himself the slowest pull that I thought my knees would buckle. My sex clenched with total need—for that cock to be inside me. But I held back. I lowered my soaked panties down my legs and stepped out of them. A guttural sound came from deep in Leo’s throat, and he took the smallest step toward me, but I stepped back, letting him know not yet.
“You’re killing me,” he said.
“You,” I said, taking in his entire body from top to bottom, “are perfect.” The muscles in his thighs looked like their own continent, and his six-pack stomach clenched harder with every breath he pulled in. He continued to work his cock in his hand, the muscles in his arm showing every perfectly molded detail. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to resist, but trying was half the fun, I realized.
We both sat back on the couch, opposite ends and facing each other. Leo left one foot on the floor and I had both my feet on the couch in front of me. His hand never left his dick as he watched me. I tilted my hips up, feeling myself clench with want. Slowly I opened up my knees, letting myself spread out before him, giving him a perfect view of my pink, wet pussy.
“Oh, my god,” he moaned.
I slid my finger over my soaked walls, up and around the hard nib of my clit. I kept my finger there, dancing in circles as my breath became shallower. I moved my body down a little further on the couch. Leo watched as my fingers moved down one side of my pussy and back up the other. He swallowed hard, his eyes laser focused on my every movement. My finger traced the edge of my opening, dipping the very tip of my finger in. His hand stopped moving, and so did I.
“If you stop, I stop,” I said.
He looked at me, and his hand started again, pulling on his enormous dick. His eyes were dark as he looked at me, and for a moment, his eyes closed and his head fell back, his hand moving up and down, up and down on his long, glorious dick.
“I didn’t stop,” he said. “Open your legs more. Show me.”
I did as he asked, spreading them wider, feeling no shame at being so exposed in front of him. His chest rose and fell in deep breaths, his desire for me making me even wetter than I thought possible. I teased myself, my fingers circling my hole, feeling myself clench, wanting to be filled with anything for the moment. I slowly dipped my finger in, as if testing the waters. Leo’s mouth fell open a little wider. I pulled my finger out, pumped it a few times in myself before going back in again, soaking my finger to the knuckle. Pulling it out again, I added a finger, opening myself up more as they went in. I let out a moan, biting my lip. My fingers went back in and out, pausing only to circle the hard, desperate nub of my clit, spreading my juices all over it.
“God, I want my mouth right where your hand is,” he said. “I want you to fuck my face, Sophie. Come over here and fuck my face.”
That did it for me. I was crawling across the couch toward him, his eyes so hungry on me. I stopped only to bend down and lick the full length of his cock, and the groan he let out was a near scream for mercy. I put one knee to the side of him, against the inside of the couch, and my other leg I pulled up and rested on the arm of the couch behind his head. My aching pussy was right in his face, and he took my ass in his hands and brought me to his mouth.
He gave a long, deliberate lick across the full length of my sex, groaning as he went. He let his tongue circle my clit and the cries escaped me. I knew I wasn’t going to last long. I held on to the back of the couch and pushed my hips into his face, his groaning urging me on. His tongue reached inside me, going so deep, moving so far inside me. I saw nothing but the blackness behind my eyes. Everything on my body was numb except the feeling of his mouth on me—all the blood in my body went straight for my most sensitive part. Leo lapped up my considerable juices as if it were the most delectable treat in the world. When he sucked on my clit, I thought the world might explode. My stomach clenched in as my hips went closer to his
face. I held on to the top of his head, his dark hair clenched in my hand. I groaned and screamed with zero inhibition as he continued to work me, bringing me so much closer with every lick, every pull, every groan from his own throat. I was falling quickly over the edge and I held tight, my head tipping back as my hips bucked onto his face, his mouth, his perfect tongue that knew exactly what I needed. Finally I was crashing over, my skin tingling and stars bursting behind my eyes. It went on for several moments, that sensation, and I rode it to the very last drop.
My body began going limp, as he kissed my stomach. I slid further down his body, leaving a wet trail down his chest.
“God,” I moaned, still unable to open my eyes into the aftermath of something so spectacular. I moved my leg down from the arm of the couch and put my knee on the other side of Leo’s body. He took my breast in his hand and kneaded it, rubbing it passionately. His mouth was covering my nipple in no time, his magical tongue teasing my hard nipple, bringing me back to the deep want, the need my body had to consume more of him.
Leo ran his hand over my breast and, looking up at me, said, “You didn’t think I was done with you, did you?”
He took my hips in his capable hands and moved me down his body. I reached between my legs and took his dick in my hands. He held me aloft, just over him, and let me pull him up and down, my hand wrapped firmly around him. He kept his heavy eyes on mine, his hot breath covering my face. I guided him toward my hole and he moved my hips right there, right above him. He let go and waited for me to do the rest.
I slowly slid down his engorged cock, both of us groaning as he stretched the walls of my slick pussy, stuffing me full. I sat on him, Leo’s entire dick up inside me, letting myself stretch to his thick member.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tight to his chest, my bare breasts against his skin. The way he held me, I felt as if he could never let me go.
