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Unthinkable: (Unstoppable - Book 2) (The Unstoppable Series)

Page 18

by Danielle Hill


  “You feel so fucking good around my dick,” Leon groaned into my mouth, his movements ragged as he chased his orgasm.

  Throwing my head back, I brought my legs up and locked them tighter around him, pulling him deeper into me until he bottomed out. A long, floaty moan left my lips, flowing between us, and Leon rose up on his arms, staring down at my face.

  “You gonna come for me, baby?” he panted, voice hoarse.

  With every slide against my walls, the friction built, climbing until it reached a dizzying crescendo. A choked scream broke from my throat as pleasure tore through my body, curving my spine. I latched onto Leon's shoulders, fingernails sinking into his skin as he slammed his lips down over mine. He swallowed every gasp while I squirmed underneath him, my thighs squeezing his hips.

  His deep groan vibrated against my mouth, pelvis slamming into mine one final time before he ground into me with a low growl and his teeth snatched at my lower lip.

  And then he slowed, pumping in and out slowly, while we both drifted back down to earth.

  Releasing my lip, his hot, ragged breaths fanned my face as he lifted to look down at me. And as I blinked up at him, my heart swelled with a depth of affection that shook me. It spread swiftly through my body with each forceful thud of my heart, infusing the blood in my veins, flooding every cell.

  My eyes lingered on the shaded contours of his beautiful face, bathed in moonlight, as he softened inside of me. When I trailed my gaze up, I drowned in two deep-blue pools of simmering intensity that penetrated right through me, reached inside with delicate precision, and extracted parts of me I knew I'd never get back.

  Sex without emotion? God, what a joke. My throat closed.

  Leon blinked slowly, each heavy breath deep and even as he traced the pads of his thumbs over my cheeks. Every gentle stroke was a soothing balm to my rapidly spiralling panic, but it couldn’t be pushed aside completely. I'd lived my life shielded behind a cold, frosted wall of glass.

  It lay in broken shards around me now, leaving me bare, open, and the need to flee was strong.

  Because what if I couldn't build it back up?

  What if one night was too much?

  What if it wasn't enough?

  Leon's brows flickered. “Thought you weren't gonna run, Snow Queen.”

  Swallowing over a tight knot, I gave a stiff nod and affected an airiness to my tone that was worlds away from the turmoil churning inside of me. “I'm not.”

  His brow creased as he paused. “But you want to.”

  My heart jolted, and I fought the urge to look away.

  He could see me—all the vulnerable parts, the messy parts, the parts I wanted to keep hidden—he could see them all.

  I gave a half-hearted scoff, striving for indifference. “Is a trip to the bathroom permitted? Or you planning on pinning me to the bed with your dick all night to keep me here?”

  His lips ticked up on one side, eyes glinting as his hair fell forward on to his forehead. “I'm not opposed to the idea.” His face softened. “I'd rather you stayed because you want to, though.”

  And I did. I wanted to stay.

  That only made the desire to run that much stronger, and that’s exactly how I knew I was in too deep.

  Grappling for solid ground as the surface beneath me rocked, I muttered, “That's deep, Pretty Boy.”

  His head tilted, something I couldn’t decipher passing over his face. Then his mouth formed a slick grin, and he gave his hips a light thrust. “Damn right, it is.”

  A faint snort of air filtered through my nostrils as I gave his shoulders a little nudge and wriggled beneath him. “I need to pee.”

  He looked down at me a few seconds longer, then drew back onto his haunches, closing his hands around my wrists and helping me up.

  I stood, tugging open the dresser and grabbing a sleep shirt before throwing it over my head. When Leon rose to his feet behind me, I spun to him without thinking, and gulped. My eyes were everywhere all at once, and I still couldn't take in enough of him.

  Mouth dry, I dipped my tongue out and rolled it over my lips.

  “Hungry, Snow Queen?”

  My head snapped up.

  And there was that lazy grin, the smug lilt to his full lips that told me he knew exactly what I was thinking, and that he fucking revelled in it. Shooting him a narrowed glare, I paced from the room with a firm shake of my head, taking my sweet time using the bathroom. I peed, cleaned up, brushed my teeth, flossed, and washed my hands until the skin turned red… all without taking a glimpse in the mirror. Not once. I was too afraid of what I’d see staring back at me.

  Various cartons of Chinese takeout covered the bed when I walked back into the room, along with a shirtless Leon, who was easily the most appetizing thing on the menu. Sinking down awkwardly on top of the comforter, I folded my legs over each other and snagged a carton. I took a set of chopsticks and peeked inside, then I glanced up with the utensils poised in my hand. If I didn’t say it now, I never would. And I needed to say it.

  “Thank you.”

  For the cupcakes.

  For the takeout.

  For...

  Leon’s tousled head lifted… and he impregnated half the population of Claremont with the heated look adorning his gorgeous, shadowed face.

  Voice gruff, a light smile touching his lips, he murmured, “Anytime, sweetheart.”

  My bed was less than three feet off the floor, but I might as well have been hanging over the edge of a hundred-and-fifty-foot sheer cliff face.

  Clinging on by my fingertips.

  TWENTY-SIX

  LISS

  I dropped my feet to the carpeted floor and gripped the edge of the mattress as slices of sunlight streaked through the partially shaded blinds and landed across my thighs. Glancing back over my shoulder through a tangled curtain of platinum hair, I watched Leon's eyelids flicker a few times before blinking open.

  His swollen lips tilted up in a sleepy smile that had my toes curling into the soft pile beneath me. Mussed tawny blonde hair, drowsy eyes, rippling chest with a light smattering of hair—he had that sexy just woke up look down pat.

  He reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over the soft material of my cotton sleep shirt. An involuntary shudder ran through me when he trailed them lightly down my spine before turning on his side and propping his head up on his bent arm.

  “The sun's out and she's still here,” Leon teased, his low voice husky.

  Reaching up to work my fingers through my knotted hair, I said, “Don't be weird.”

  He grinned, rolling onto his back, the thick muscles in his arms shifting when he folded them behind his head.

  Saliva pooled in my mouth. God, the guy had a body. Where the fuck had that even come from? I squeezed my thighs together and inhaled a deep breath, averting my gaze, because the sight of him had me wanting to climb on and ride him like Seabiscuit. Again.

  And I couldn’t keep doing that.

  His soft chuckle had my head twisting back round, my narrowed eyes fixing on his. “This doesn't change anything between us, Pretty Boy. I still hate you.” A mocking voice inside my head questioned if I had a single fucking clue what that word meant.

  Leon pushed himself up and settled his back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head to one side with a half smirk. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, Snow Queen.”

  He watched me quietly for a while, his white teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he mulled something over in his mind. “Go out with me tonight?”

  “What?” My back straightened, and I shook my head. “No. We're not dating.”

  He shrugged. “Didn't say we were.”

  My heart jack hammered. “I'm not making plans with you.”

  “Why not?”

  Blinking, I jerked my head up, nibbling at the inside of my lower lip. “Because... this isn't a thing.”

  “Why not?” he repeated, running his nails over his jaw.

  “Fo
r obvious reasons.”

  “Which are?”

  Ask me a different one.

  Shit.

  “Look,” I muttered. “We can't date or go out. It would be weird.”

  He arched a brow. “We had sex. Twice.”

  Warmth flooded my cheeks, and I pushed to my feet, snagging the nearest hair tie, and twisting it round my hair roughly.

  “That's different. We didn’t plan it. Either time. Sometimes things just happen, situations escalate. It makes you question your sanity after, but you have a plausible defense because it wasn’t premeditated. Like murder. It's not as bad if it wasn't planned.”

  Leon's blue eyes twinkled with amusement. “Murder? Should I be concerned?”

  I rolled my eyes, collecting the clothes scattered across the floor and tossing them to him. “It was an example. But yeah, you should. Now, get dressed.”

  I pivoted as he rose, not trusting myself to look directly at him in all his naked glory in the light of day.

  “So, we can fuck,” he murmured, drawing up behind me, too close, “but only if it isn't pre-arranged?”

  “Yes… I mean, no.” I shook my head. “We're not fucking again, either.”

  A hand fastened around my hip, drawing me back a step until my ass aligned with the part of him I knew with one hundred percent certainty I didn’t hate. “You're confusing me, Snow Queen.”

  My brows twitched, mind clouding as I murmured, “Doesn’t take much.”

  I felt his smile against the skin of my nape, that light brush producing a tremor that travelled the length of my spine.

  “You know you're gonna fuck me again, Lissa.” He dragged his lips gently over my shoulder. “Might as well let me buy you dinner first.”

  My mouth opened, head dipping back, lungs pulling in a shuddering breath. “Why do you even want to?”

  There was a silence while Leon nudged the material of my shirt aside and pressed a lingering kiss against my skin. “Because I like you, Lissa.”

  The husky admission pried yet another finger away from the edge of that jagged rock face, and my chances of plummeting seemed to shift from probable to inevitable.

  “Go out with me,” he repeated quietly.

  I shook my head, clinging on for dear life. I couldn't see the bottom from all the way up here. The drop might kill me. “I already told you,” I breathed. “I'm not making plans with you.”

  “Okay.” He slid a hand down my arm, long fingers sliding between each of mine. “No plans.” His mouth opened over my jaw. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were to show up at your door tonight, would you kick my ass to the curb?”

  My heart fluttered. “Hypothetically speaking, you'd just have to show up and see what happens.”

  “And what about right now?” He ran the tip of his nose down the side of my throat and inhaled. “If I were to lay you down on the bed, spread your legs, and run my tongue over your pussy... that'd be okay, right? Because it wasn't planned...” His voice hummed against my skin, making it tingle as his fingers looped through mine. “... much.”

  My stomach clenched. I swallowed then pivoted in his hold, my eyes landing on the hard expanse of his chest. Reaching up, I trailed my hands over his golden skin.

  “You talk too much.”

  His eyes flashed as his hands dropped to the hem of my sleep shirt. Tugging it up and over my head in one fluid motion, he smirked before he tossed me down on the bed.

  “Better shut me up then. Open up, Snow Queen.”

  ***

  My heart thumped against my ribs a split second after the doorbell chimed at seven forty-three. Wearing black skinny jeans, a loose black sweater and boots, minimal make-up, and French braids either side of my head, it was my this isn’t a date and I’ve made zero fucking effort look. Yeah, I’d yanked out and re-styled my hair three times, agonized over the outfit choice, and the make-up application had taken three times longer than usual. But it didn’t fucking look like it. And that’s what was important.

  Because this wasn’t a date.

  Flicking off the light in the den as I left the room, the clunky heels of my boots clomping over the hardwood, I paused before opening the door, overcome with the nervous energy fizzing through my veins.

  Get a fucking hold of yourself.

  It’s not even a date.

  I pulled the door wide, and my hand strangled the knob as my eyes greedily drank in every detail of the guy staring back at me. The thin material of his cobalt blue sweater stretched over his wide chest, the color almost identical to his eyes in the dark, and he shifted a little on his feet, tucking his hands in the pockets of a pair of black jeans that molded his thick thighs to perfection. His shoulders pulled back with his heavy breath in, and then his head dipped, those full lips twitching in a way that made him appear nervous. Shit, he looked adorable. Sexy and goddamn adorable. And it was a lethal combination, because that flicker of uncertainty that flashed in his half-lidded gaze had me questioning why I couldn’t just give this a shot.

  “Well? What’s it gonna be, Snow Queen?”

  His question echoed the one running through my head.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  LEON

  I lost ninety-nine percent of feeling in my limbs when Lissa appeared in her doorway—a direct result of every ounce of blood in my body speeding to my dick.

  Black denim hugged her slim thighs and hips, and the shimmery material of her top dipped between her breasts, offering a hint of delicious creamy, cleavage. The braids she wore somehow managed to make her look adorable, even while I imagined wrapping my hands around them and slamming into her from behind.

  I attempted to clear my head with a brusque shake and lifted my gaze to her face. Her widened eyes, along with the deep rise of her shoulders, told me we were both out of our element here.

  Something had shifted between us. Not just the attraction. I couldn’t pinpoint how or when, but something fundamental in the way I viewed Alissa Bedford had changed. And it hadn’t happened overnight either.

  I’d tried to fool myself into thinking I didn’t give a shit this past five months.

  I gave a shit.

  I gave more shits about this girl right here than I’d ever given about anything else in my life. I shifted on my feet, utterly aware of how invested I was, and how hesitant she was. From that first kiss, Lissa had been on the defensive. She gave off this air of being indestructible, like nothing could touch her, but beneath it all, she was just as human as everyone else, just as susceptible to feeling. Just as capable of breaking.

  She just didn’t want to be. Her physical response wasn’t something she could disguise—I knew I had her there. But that wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wanted more. Probably more than she was willing or prepared to give. And I might just be setting myself up for a whole fucking world of disappointment.

  My heart pummelled my chest as I slid my hands into my pockets and murmured, “Well? What’s it gonna be, Snow Queen?”

  She stilled for a few seconds, keeping me hanging on a razor edge, then stepped through the door and turned to lock it behind her.

  Striding past me, she muttered, “This isn’t a date, Pretty Boy.”

  I lowered my head and dug my teeth into my bottom lip as a smile teased the corners of my mouth. I didn’t fucking care what she called it, as long as she was there. She might not realize it, but just by walking through that door, she was telling me more than she’d ever admitted out loud.

  We drove the twenty minutes into central Richmond before I parked and fed the meter. Moonlight spilled onto the scene around us as we approached Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant, and I closed my hand around the handle, pulling it open to let Lissa slip in ahead.

  “Such a gentleman, Bradshaw,” she muttered with a raised brow as she eased past me. “Who the fuck would have guessed it?”

  I smiled down at her, trailing her to the tall table located just inside the door where we both stopped. A guy with slick-backed hair, wearing black slacks and a
white button down led us through the array of circular tables, each draped with a white cloth, melted wax candles, and menus.

  Lissa rounded the table as the server pulled out a seat, and my muscles tensed when I caught his eyes dip briefly to the curves of her ass before she lowered herself down into it. The look of interest in this asshole’s gaze quickly transformed to discomfort when he met my stony glare across the table, and he scurried off with a promise to have someone come take our drinks order.

  That’s right, fucker… run before I plant my fucking fist in your face.

  Sinking into the padded seat, I worked the tension in my jaw loose, then flipped open the faux-leather-bound menu and glanced up. “Got a challenge for you, Snow Queen.”

  Lissa’s head came up with an arched brow, sharp blue eyes twinkling with interest. “I’m listening.”

  I smirked, playing with the worn edges of the thick paper. “Think you can get through the next thirty minutes without insulting me?”

  She tilted her head. “I’m not sure, Pretty Boy, you make it so damn easy.”

  My eyebrow quirked. “You’re already fucking failing.”

  A reluctant smile curved her lips before she turned toward a small brunette wearing the same black and white ensemble as the guy who’d ogled Lissa’s ass. The waitress laid a jug of ice water and two glasses on the table between us before snagging a tablet from the belt strapped around her waist and fixing us with an expectant gaze. It took thirty seconds to rattle off our orders, and then I eased back in the chair, meeting Lissa’s curious stare over the fluttering glow of the newly lit candle.

  “What’s with the fancy restaurant, Pretty Boy?” She looked around. “You think I’m a sure thing if you buy me dinner?”

  I tipped my brows up. “I think you’re a sure thing whether I buy you dinner, or not.” Her expression turned scathing, and I tossed her a boyish grin. “But my mother raised me better than that.”

  Lissa scoffed and reached for the jug, filling both glasses halfway. Her eyes didn’t meet mine when she asked, “You take every girl you sleep with out on dates?”

 

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