He Belongs With Me (17 page)

12:00 A.M.

1:00 A.M.

2:00 A.M.

As tired as I felt, I couldn't get my brain to calm the hell down. For the second night in a row, I listened to Steph saw away at some serious logs, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Leo's beautiful blue eyes. Damn him. Damn those eyes. They were driving me freaking insane. Why wouldn't my brain let it go—let him go?

I knew I had made a rational decision when I ditched him on the subway, even if rational wasn't my usual style. Leo and I were about as different as two people could get and we didn’t want any of the same things out of life. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, and I wanted to run like hell from anything even remotely resembling my father's footsteps. Now Maggie and Leo together—that made sense. They both liked money, clothes, and other materialistic bullshit. And more importantly, they got along, whereas Leo and I couldn't go a day without fighting.
So why did I feel so shitty about this? Ugh! Double ugh!

A little after two in the morning, sleep finally started to take its hold on me. I felt my eyelids go heavy and my thoughts began to blur. And that was when I sprang out of bed, wide awake all over again.

I had to call Leo. I just had to. I wished I could pretend this weekend never happened. To act as if that one kiss hadn't changed everything between us. To face every future holiday as if he meant absolutely nothing to me. But the simple reality was…I couldn’t ignore what my heart wanted.

At that exact moment, I heard a noise outside Steph’s front door.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I stumbled into the living room through the darkness. Forgetting the fact that this was New York City
and
that it was the middle of the night
and
it was someone else’s apartment, I reached for the doorknob and yanked open the door.

Leo.

On the door step.

My breath hitched in my throat as his steel-blue eyes—barely illuminated by the street lights—took me in.

I should have considered my appearance before opening the door because I was dressed in only a tank top and a pair of panties. My hair was down, covering my shoulders, and I'm sure I looked as if I just rolled out of bed. I
had
just rolled out of bed. Leo didn't seem to care though. Instead of looking at me like I was a mess, he looked at me like he wanted to devour me alive.

Neither of us moved nor spoke. Leo had changed from earlier and was now wearing shorts and a t-shirt tight enough to show off his chest muscles beneath. Before seeing his naked backside the other morning, I never knew what he had going on underneath because he never wore clothes that even hinted at anything. Or maybe he was right when he said I’d never bothered to notice. But right now I noticed and couldn't seem to stop myself from staring a little too hard and a little too long.

Leo exhaled a slow breath and rubbed one hand over the back of his neck.
That same move!
Now I knew what it meant. He was nervous and those nerves had everything to do with me. I loved the effect I seemed to have on him. I waited for his eyes to drift up my body and find mine, and when they did, nothing could have prepared me for the way my heart slammed inside my chest. Damn those eyes. They took my breath away and made the empty space between us feel like miles.

I don't know who made the initial move, but in the very next second his lips were on my lips and we were kissing, wildly and desperately. I was shocked to find that I was just as hungry for him as he was for me. Leo backed me against the door frame, his demeanor turning all 'take-no-prisoners' as he pinned me in place with his hips. His hands traced up and down the curve of my body until they wound their way through the loose strands of my hair. He was in control, I was totally at his mercy, and I. Didn’t. Even. Care.

Leo's mouth moved from mine and he kissed a trail down my neck. I tipped my head to the side, giving him all the access he wanted. The initial force behind his kisses began to dissipate. All the passion remained, but everything slowed down and turned super sweet, super cherishing, and super loving.

“Don't ever run away from me like that again,” he said against my neck. “You can talk to me. You can always talk to me, okay? It's not like I'm going to bite.” And then, much to my surprise, he dragged his teeth along my skin and bit me gently.

I squealed and gave his chest a playful smack. “You ass!”

“Whatever. You like it.”

Leo still had me pinned in place. His hips were square with mine and the evidence of his arousal pressed unapologetically into my belly. I rubbed my hands up and over his shoulders, pausing at his neck. Leo studied me for a couple of long moments, and then the next thing I knew we were kissing again.

I could have kissed him for hours but he abruptly pulled away, asking breathlessly, “Inside?” I nodded against him and his hands slid down my back to grab my ass. He lifted me up, my bare legs wrapping around his waist, and he walked us over the threshold. The inside of Steph's apartment was pitch black, but Leo still led us into the unknown. Where did he think we were going to go? I was too caught up in the moment to worry about specifics and only focused on peppering him with kisses as he walked.

Leo's leg banged into the coffee table. “Shit.”

“Couch.”

I said the word and then—as if the couch suddenly had a homing beacon inside it—Leo located it in an instant. He lowered me down onto the cushions and then covered me with his body. I absolutely loved the feel of him on top of me. He held most of his weight off of me, but the feel of his chest pressed tightly to mine, all encompassing, did funny things to my already racing heart. My legs locked back around him and I shifted to line up all of our good parts.

Leo wanted me and I wanted him right back. The reality of it all had me so hot that I knew, without a doubt, I was ready to give up my virginity. It wasn't just about timing or hormones or lust—it was about Leo. Even though he and I sure as shit didn't make sense, I realized in that moment...who cared? To hell with making sense. My heart wanted what it wanted, and there was no mistaking that the guy on top of me was at the top of that list.

But Leo had other plans. He shifted his weight off me and moved to sit at the other end of the couch.
Really?
I pushed up to my elbows, ready to scratch his eyes out. Seconds after I figured out what I wanted—ready to cross a very big line with him—and he moves off me?
What the hell?

“What are you doing?” My words had a warning laced through them. I couldn't quite see his eyes through the darkness and I'd never needed to see them more. “Get back over here, please.”

“I can't.”

“Then what do you even want? You're confusing the hell out of me.”

“I just want you,” he said, sincerity laced through his words. “I want you more than my next breath.”

My heart began to thump even harder than it already was. I opened my mouth to speak but he kept talking.

“Believe me, Clara. It would be very easy to lay you back down, ease myself inside you, and fuck you senseless. But I can't just screw you on some random couch where anyone could walk in on us. And I can't screw you while the room is spinning and I'm slightly shitfaced. I don't even want to screw you. I want to make love to you. The slow, sweet, all night long kind of love.” He sighed and buried his face in his hands for a moment. “I can't believe I just said that out loud, but...” he paused and looked back up at me, “it's true.”

My mouth went dry—talk about brutal honesty. I didn't know what to say or how to react. Sitting statue still, I stared at him and found that all I really wanted was for him to wrap his arms around me again.

“Say something, Clara.”

I swallowed hard and then answered him. “Get back over here, please.”

He groaned. “I just told you why I can't.”

“I know and I'm not asking you to screw me. I've spent a lifetime
not
touching or holding you...and I really want to now. Besides, it's kind of cold over here without you.”

He moved back to me in a heartbeat. Our legs tangled together as we adjusted and got comfy. He ended up on his side and I nuzzled in close to his body, my head resting in the nook of his arm. I couldn’t believe we fit together so perfectly. He didn't kiss me on the lips anymore, but the way his mouth ran along my jaw and his fingers tenderly traced over my stomach just under my tank top, I could tell he still wanted to.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispered.

“I assumed you were going to.”

“Good.” He sat up briefly, yanked off his shirt, and then lay back down. He used his shirt to cover as much of my legs as he could. “Are you still cold?”

There’s a fat chance in hell any woman could be cold pressed up against Leo's naked chest. “I'll manage, thanks.” His arms squeezed me tighter and I buried my face into his warm, hard chest. He smelled like Leo, which made me think of Blue Creek and my childhood. It was a smell so familiar and yet, up until a few moments ago, so forbidden that I couldn't seem to stop myself from breathing him in.

“I might be a little drunk and imagining things, but are you
sniffing
me?”

“Nope.”

“It kind of feels like you are.”

“Nope.” I sniffed dramatically just to mess with him. “You know what's weird?” I said a few minutes later as we both were starting to drift off to sleep. I'd been trying my hardest to stay awake, but the late hour had finally caught up with me. “I can never tell when you're drunk and when you aren't.”

“That's because I'm usually faking it.”

Say what?
“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that every time you see me with one of those Gibson Martinis—the kind with the onion that I'm always drinking—it's really just water. Douglas at the club is cool. He hooks me up.”

That had to be the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. And I'd heard him spew some pretty random craziness out of his mouth over the years. Leo, borderline alcoholic, was really a fake drunk? I still didn't understand. “Does that mean you were sober when I hit you with the golf cart?”

“Yes.”

“I carried your heavy ass up to your room and you were perfectly fine?”

“Yes.”

I don't know what came over me but I bit him. He'd only nipped at me before, but I flat-out bit him. My face was already pressed up against his chest and his skin was right there in front of me, asking for it. I didn't bite hard enough to draw blood or anything—the skin over his chest muscles was way too taut for that—but hard enough to get his attention. And boy, did it ever. That impulsive act started a tickle war. One that I lost. One that ended with Leo on top of me, pinning my wrists above my head and pressing little kisses all over my face.

“Say you're sorry, killer.”

“Never.”

“Fine.” I thought he was going to continue messing around, but instead he pressed his lips to mine in the most soft and tender way possible. His tongue met mine in a light dance that was all about touch and sensation. Between his sweet-as-hell kiss, the way he had my arms above my head, and the faint amount of moonlight outlining his shirtless body, I was practically convulsing underneath him—I’d never been so turned on in my life.

But once again, Leo cut things short. He shifted off my body, muttering a string of curse words under his breath. He moved back so that he lay beside me rather than on top of me.

“We should go to sleep before I break all the boundaries I'm trying to keep with you.”

“One more thing,” I whispered. “Tell me why you fake it. Please.”

He sighed, but proceeded to tell me without filter. “I used to get shitfaced like it was my job. In high school mostly. Then I stopped because drinking would always take me down a very dark rabbit hole. I did a lot of stuff I'm not proud of. Stuff that would make your skin crawl. Stuff that's hard to live with now. I hated myself and I guess I needed an alternative...” He paused for a moment, as if trying to think over his next words. “People still expect me to act a certain way, and I keep up the act because it's easier to pretend. Or maybe I just like messing with people. I don't know.”

I bit my lip. What the hell did all that mean? I knew Leo was far from perfect and I knew he had a darker side. But, seriously, what did that mean?

“Does Maggie know this?”

“She doesn't.”

“I won't tell...” I had no reason to tell Maggie anything. “But Leo...why did you just tell me? You didn't have to.”

“You asked.” One of his hands moved to cup my face. “You always ask all the hard questions. I don't know why, but I have to be honest with you. It's a very scary but liberating feeling. There's no pressure to be anyone but myself when I'm with you. And getting to spend so much time with you over the last couple days...well, I've never felt so free in my life. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, Clara. Just tell me we won't ever go back to where we were three days ago.”

I gulped down a strange lump that had formed in my throat. “We won't.”

“Good. We can talk more tomorrow. Let's go to sleep now, killer.”

So I did.

SOMETHING POKED MY SHOULDER. I woke up from a dead sleep to find Steph staring down at me. She looked adorable dressed in her work clothes, all prim and proper in black and white. And for some reason, she had this big, cheesy grin plastered on her face.

“
Nice
,” she mouthed.

It took me a second to process where I was and who I was with. Two strong legs and two extremely defined man-arms were tangled around my body, covering me better than a Snuggie.
Leo.
He'd stayed the night and hadn't moved an inch since we fell asleep together, unless you counted his slow and steady breaths. I didn't want to move. I'd never been so comfortable in my whole life, and I'd certainly never spent the night in anyone's arms before. Could I freeze this moment and live in it forever?

The night before...Leo had been
so freaking sweet
to me. I'd heard people call Leo Maddox many different names—none of them nice enough to repeat—but no one in their right mind would have ever accused him of being ‘sweet.’ Those annoying, pesky butterfly friends of mine started fluttering around in my stomach again. If Leo woke up acting anything less than the way he was with me last night, I didn’t know what I'd do.