Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) (18 page)

She’d known then, right then, that she wasn’t going to take the cards to cyber.  It would hurt him, and though she knew hurting him was inevitable, it was no longer something she wanted.  It was not going to come easy.

Still watching her purse, writhing against her bedsheets, she fought the urge to push her hand into her pajama bottoms, past her panties, and strum her throbbing clit to the sound of his deep, buttery voice.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss on the water tower,” Leo breathed, his voice projecting an agony through the phone that she was sure was present on his face.

She tried to fight the part of her that yearned to see him again.  To hear that voice in person, to feel his skin, those eyes, as they traveled every inch of her, striking fire to each part they hit, to draw that bottom lip between hers again.

Biting her own, her hand travelled to the seat of her panties, and she released her lip when the tips of her fingers found her aching clit through the fabric.  His gravelly voice joined her strumming fingers, tight with tension, in dire need of release.

“Can I please see you?  Can I come pick you up?”

Jessica’s eyes flew open.  “I’m in my pajamas.”

“I need to see you.”

The right answer was always
yes
.  Any extra moment she could spend with this man and, in extension, investigating his family, was a moment she was forced to accept.  What threw her was that she wanted
to accept.  Not because Leo equaled Val, and Val equaled King, but because Leo equaled…

Her stomach exploded with butterflies.

Leo equaled
that.

“Okay,” she said.

His exhale made her smile.  On the other end of the line, he seemed to be shuffling around.

“Pack a bag,” he said.

Jessica nearly dropped the phone.  “A bag?  We’ve barely cleared our second date and you’re already inviting me to sleep over?  You could still be a murderous lunatic for all I know.”

“Technically, we’ve just cleared our
fourth
date.”

“Sunday dinners with your family do not count as dates.”

“They do to Ma.”

Jessica laughed.

She could hear the smile in his voice.  “And I think we both know the only murderous lunatic here is you.  That ass of yours is going to kill me before I even have a chance to enjoy it.”

“You’re
so
corny.”

“Pack enough for two days.”

“What about Novsky?”

“You work from home, right?”

“
You
don’t.”

“Novsky can live without me for a couple days.”

“Leo…”

“I want to take you to my favorite spot in the Hamptons.”

“What spot?”

“It’s a surprise.”  He paused.  “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”  She meant it.

“It’ll take me about an hour to get to Westchester after I get dressed.”

Her pussy and heart had started humming together, making such beautiful music under her warming flesh that she’d almost forgotten who the hell she
was
.   That her “house” in Westchester was a completely empty—save for a limitless supply of takeout food—stakeout location. A location where Chet was surely in the middle of demolishing a Philly Cheesesteak while he listened in on their entire conversation.

“
No.
Not Westchester.  I mean, I’m not in Westchester.”

“Where are you?”

Her heartbeat tripled.  “Why don’t I just meet you at your apartment?”

“
No.
”

Jessica faltered.  He’d been trying so hard to get her to his place, and into his bed, that she was shocked at that
no
.  Noting the panic in his voice, she frowned at the ceiling.  Perhaps she wasn’t the only one with something to hide.  His adamant refusal only made her want to see his apartment ten times more.

“How about we meet in the middle?” he asked.

“Central Park?” she offered.  “Obelisk Monument?”

“Done.  Give me an hour.”

Jessica hung up the phone and had the urge to throw it.  Before she could, it rang, and she answered without looking at the display.  “Please fuck off.”

“Jessica loves
Leee--o
, Jessica loves
Leeee-o
,” Chet chanted, to the “Rocky Loves Emily” beat from the
3 Ninjas
movie.

Jessica hung up and dropped her hand to the edge of her bed, allowing her phone to slip from her fingers and fall to her wood floor.

“I am so unbelievably fucked,” she said to the ceiling.

Actually, she wasn’t fucked.  Not in the way she wanted to be. Not in the way she hoped she would be sometime in the next two days.

With a sigh, lips parted and eyes fluttering shut, she dipped her fingers into her underwear, strumming at her swollen bud with an expedience she knew would make her cum fast.  She pretended her fingers were Leo’s.  Pretended the nails knocking at her pounding entry were the edges of his perfect teeth.  He’d bite in, inflicting the tiniest hint of pain, and then soothe it with the bed of his warm tongue in apology.  She bet he ate pussy like no other.  Every time he looked at her, she could see it in his eyes.  How nasty he was.  That there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make the object of his affection scream until they were hoarse.

A whimper escaped her lips as blasts of pleasure shot through her, each more intense than the last as she pictured his face.

Leo.

She finished in less than a minute.

***

Leo’s mouth fell open, a moan trapped in his throat as the first shot of warm spunk hit his aching stomach, dripping into the ridges of his abdomen as the swollen tip blasted more. He tugged out shot after shot, faster and with more vigor than he knew he was capable of.  The load was so enormous, he almost wished he’d climbed into the shower before starting this session.

This was the first time he’d touched himself to the thought of her serious face, her breathy voice, her long black hair, and that plush, plump, curvy body.

After teasing the throbbing tip under his fingers through their entire phone call, he’d shoved his hand past the waistband of his boxers the moment they’d hung up, crying out as he took frantic hold of his swollen shaft and drew a long, gut wrenching tug, knowing he’d need to get it out of his system if he was going to get through the next two days with any dignity intact.

She’d agreed to pack a bag and leave with him for two days, and he knew he’d have to act right.  His behavior during this trip was going to play a huge role in whether or not she decided to let him get between those thick brown thighs.

Usually, when he found himself in this state, he would find one of the girls partying in his apartment, girls he could hear laughing outside his bedroom door, and let one of them spread her legs or suck him off, but tonight… that was the last thing he wanted.

He hauled another taut tug, flinching as her face stained his mind and his heart.  The blasts finally slowed, leaving a sticky trail.

Thirty seconds, just picturing her face.

If he only lasted thirty seconds inside her, he would be mortified.  Inconsolable.

Thirty fucking seconds.

He released himself, staring at the ceiling in awe, waiting for his breathing to slow.  He hadn’t beat his meat in
years
. With so many women at his disposal, all ages, races, and creeds, he’d never had to.

But none of them were Ashley.

Thirty seconds after he’d licked his palm and spread it over the tip of his engorged dick, their first kiss on the water tower had invaded his mind.  How soft her skin was.  The sweet taste of her lips.  That wet, eager tongue.  He’d thought of that shy smile.  That
real
smile.  The one she only ever gave him by accident.

He’d thought of that smile and blew his load in an instant, so hard, and with such toe-curling, mind-blowing fervor that he’d screamed, back arching off the bed as he covered his stomach in his juices, nearly kicking the sheets from their corners as his heels dug into the mattress, yanking every last shot with a firm fist before collapsing onto his sweaty back.

“Jesus Christ,” he heaved.

He plopped a hand on his stomach, groaning when it landed right on top of remnants of his release he’d forgotten was there.

Leo didn’t know what it was going to take to get Ashley Williams under his sheets, but he was going to give it everything he had.

The moment Jessica saw him leaning on the black railing surrounding the Obelisk Monument in Central Park, wearing a white t-shirt and fitted khakis, a pair of sunglasses shading his eyes, Jessica knew it was over.

This investigation was over.

She no longer had to force a smile to her face at the sight of him.  It came naturally.  She no longer felt debilitating anger when she flashed back to him calling her Beer Belly Borgia
.
Now she understood why he had.  Worst of all, she no longer yearned to crush his ego, because she now knew there was no ego to crush.  Instead, she ached to nurture him.  To pull him in her arms and let him cradle his head to her chest.  She wanted him to know how special he was, because now she could see that he didn’t even know it himself.

He leaned on the railing with his hands in his pockets, long legs crossed at the ankle.  A white weekender bag hung from his wrist.  He searched the area, appearing aloof, but when he caught sight of her moving toward him, a bright smile betrayed his unruffled demeanor.  He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, and his eyes were smiling too.

Unable to wipe the grin from her face, Jessica broke into a jog, dropping her duffle bag on the ground as she neared him.

He stood and dropped his bag, too, just in time to catch her around the waist when she leapt into his arms.  Falling back, he exploded into laughter, bracing himself when the launch of her body almost took him off his feet.  He found his footing, holding her up with one arm while she encircled her legs around his waist.

They moaned into the joining of their lips, neither sure who had initiated the kiss, and neither willing to let it end.

She pulled back, raking her nails through the hair at his nape.

“Hey, Wednesday,” he whispered.

“Hey.”

His eyes went to her smiling lips as an even wider grin spread along his.  “You have no idea what that smile does to me.”

She unwrapped her legs from his waist, but he kept a hold on her, forcing her to her tiptoes, bodies flush.

“I really don’t think you have any idea…” His words slowed as he watched her smile vanish.  “Aaand there it goes. ’Bye, smile.  Hope we can meet again?  Soon?  Within the year?”

She pushed out of his arms, drinking in his deep laugh as he covered his chest to block her blows.

“Sorry I’m late.” She pointed behind her to the bag she’d dropped.  “I couldn’t decide what to throw in this damn bag, and then once I actually left the house, I realized I forgot to unplug the fucking iron.  So I had to go back.  Huge fire hazard.”

He nodded at her, attempting to bring a serious gleam to his eyes. “
You’re
a huge fire hazard.”

“Oh God.”

“You should come with a warning label.”

“Oh
God
.”

“Warning: This woman will almost never smile at you, and when she finally does, you’re a fucking goner.”

“Stop.” She pushed him again.

He took her arm, pulling her with him as he stumbled back.  “Warning: This one carries a Glock 22.”  He nodded to her bag with a raised eyebrow.  “I’ll bet every dollar in my bank account you packed that Glock.”

Her own eyebrow lifted and she fought a smile, because she had.  When she realized she hadn’t stopped smiling in over five minutes, she thought Leo could use a few warning labels himself.

Warning: This one is cheesy as hell, but will make a quick swipe for your heart when you’re not looking.

Warning: This one will tempt you to throw your entire career down the drain, and you won’t even see it coming until you already have.

The cards she’d swiped from Tony and Val still sat in the purse at her side, which meant they officially wouldn’t be submitted to Cyber for another forty-eight hours, coming in at a grand total of seventy-two
.
  Seventy-two hours, holding two substantial pieces of evidence.  If Harper found out, she wouldn’t just be pulled from the case, she would be suspended, pending an investigation.

Yes, Leo Romanovsky definitely needed a warning label.

He stepped closer, their heated eyes locked, and she thought about how hard she’d just cum to the thought of his face an hour earlier.  How her back had bent off the mattress picturing those cognac eyes darkening in pleasure.  Those delicious full lips fastened to her clit.  Those thick fingers pushing inside, prickling pleasure at every piece of hot flesh he touched.  She’d finished so hard to the thought of those bulging, tattooed arms shoving her thighs apart, she’d damn near fallen off the bed.

She blinked back to the present just in time to catch his lips pushing against hers.

He moaned into the kiss, and she growled, clawing her nails down the back of his neck. The remnants of her filthy thoughts sent her driving into the kiss with urgency, pushing her tongue past his lips, moaning when he encircled her in a tight embrace.  She did the same, locking her trembling hands around his neck as he pulled and melded her body to his.

They sank in, spreading eager lips with deep tilts of their heads, tongues dancing, making out like they were the only two people in the park, oblivious to the stares and giggles of people walking by.

She disappeared into the feel of his strength, his strong kiss, and no longer gave a damn about the case, about Harp, about Chet, about Val, Tony, or Victor King.

All that mattered was Leo and his lips as they grew stronger, more insistent.  She surrendered to the caress, mind reduced to fantasies about how many places she ached to feel those lips and that tongue.

She pulled back with a gasp, meeting his hooded eyes.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered.

She shook her head.  “Me neither.”

“I try and… useless.  Hopeless.” His words trailed off as his eyes fell to her lips.   He licked his.  “Are you ready?”

She swallowed hard, still reeling from the kiss, but managed to nod.  “Where’s your car?”

He motioned over her shoulder, and she turned to look across the grass, deeper in to the park, raising an eyebrow at the sight that met her in the middle of the grass.

“That’s a helicopter,” she said, looking back to him.

“Gold star for Ashley.”

Unmoved by his teasing, she blinked.  “But that’s a helicopter.”

“You mean our helicopter.”  He picked up their bags, carrying them both in one hand while offering her his free arm.

She took it with an astonished look, gripping his bicep as her mouth dropped open.  “You landed a helicopter in Central fucking Park?  You had Dior open their doors for you in the dead of night…” She shook her head at him.  “Who are you?   You realize this is not normal behavior, right?”

“Feels normal to me.”

“You can’t just throw money around like this.”

“No?  Because I think I just did.”

“Who gave you a permit for this?”

“I have good friends in handy places.”

Frowning at him, she let him pull her across the grass and toward the chopper, where a blond pilot had his feet up on the cockpit dash, flipping through a newspaper and smacking his gum.

“We just agreed on Central Park an
hour
ago.”  Jessica continued ranting even as Leo dropped their bags and helped her up the steps and into the chopper.  “How did you secure a helicopter, a pilot, and a permit to land said
helicopter
in the most famous park in the world… in an hour?”

“Joey stays on call for me,” Leo said, climbing in behind her.

Jessica assumed Joey was the pilot who was stowing their bags in the rear of the aircraft.  “Joey stays on call for you…  Of course he does.  What’s next, huh?  Do you keep Barack and Michelle on call, too?  Are they going to greet us once we touch down in the Hamptons?”

“Damn.” Leo clicked his teeth, eyes shining at her as he handed her a champagne glass.    “Now you’ve gone and ruined the surprise.”

Jessica took the empty glass with a frown, yelping when a
pop
blasted through the air, just before Joey turned to them from the cockpit, champagne bottle in hand.  Bubbles tumbled over the rim and down his hand as he motioned to her glass with a smile.

“Yes, please.  Thank you.”  Jessica held out her glass, shaking her head as Joey filled it to the brim.  “You’re insane, Leo Romanovsky.”

Leo held out his glass next, meeting her eyes as foam raced to the rim, fizzling away mere moments before it could bubble over.

“And you’re worth it, Ashley Williams.”

Ashley Williams.

The smile vanished from Jessica’s face.

The truth slapped her around and didn’t let up.

This isn’t real, Jessica.

It never would be.

***

Jessica was shocked when the helicopter began its descent into the Hamptons, feeling like they’d only just taken off a few minutes ago.  When Leo leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips, it occurred to her that one hundred years could fly by with those lips of his on hers, and it would always feel like seconds.

His kiss left her with a tender smack.  “Turn around.”

In her line of work, she’d learned never to turn her back.  Not to anyone, under any circumstance.  Not even someone she trusted with her life.

She turned her back to Leo, senses leaping to new heights when he draped a black scarf over her eyes and tied it behind her head.

Entrenched in darkness, she turned back to him and reached out, thankful when her hands brushed those familiar boulders under his skin—he liked to call them shoulders.  She clutched them.  Minutes later, a click hit her ears and a crispy
whoosh
of cold wind engulfed her.

He took hold of her waist and lifted her out of the helicopter.  Not for a single moment did she feel fearful, off-balance, or worried that he would mishandle her.  She shuffled when she felt the ground under her feet.

A cool breeze prickled her cheeks, and the mist of fragrant ocean water further soothed them, its salty scent calming her senses.  She knew the waves were close—could hear them crashing—and she kicked, looking for sand, but all she felt was gravel.

Her quaking fingers traveled up and down Leo’s solid arms, amused that she knew each tattoo she was touching even though she couldn’t see them.  Her nails trickled along his wrist where she knew a flame encircled his skin, lapping a fiery path to his elbow and serving as a gradient backdrop to the rest of his tattoos.  Her nails trailed up his forearm, passing the Buddha she knew lived there.  She scratched softly at the hurricane whirlwind that swirled at his elbow, and the mysterious woman who grinned on his bicep.  It flexed as she touched it, and she pictured the woman’s smile moving, the way it always did when he tightened his arm.

She yearned to ask about each and every one.  The story behind them. Why he’d chosen them.  What they meant to him.  She yearned to probe deeper.

She inhaled when he moved behind her and encircled her in those arms, tightening them around her waist.  His woodsy scent dropped in and surrounded her, making the cold feel less cold, the salty scent less jarring, and the tightness of her bones less debilitating.  He took a step forward, and she did too.  Their bodies tapped, his arousal apparent on her backside.

“Are we at the ocean?”

“My favorite place on earth,” he said.

He released her, took her hand and pulled her after him.

She followed his lead, gasping when the ground became uneven.  The creaking of wood swirled in her ear, mixed with the soft lap of water, which seemed to be right below her.  The lap grew louder, nearly drowning out the sound of the helicopter’s rotor
whooshing
back to life in the distance.  She heard it fade away, and said a quiet good-bye to Joey.

As the surface at their feet grew more unsteady, she tightened her hand around his, clapping a hand to his arm.

“You’re okay.”  He laughed, tightening his hand, arm brushing hers as he came in closer.  “We’re almost there.”

The warmth of his hand left hers, but he didn’t let her go lonely for long before taking her forearms.

“Step up.”

She heeded the whispered order, clutching his forearms in return, lifting her foot and setting it down, trembling as she dug her nails into his skin.

“I got you.  I promise.   Two more steps.”

She took the steps with ease this time, sighing when she felt a solid surface under her.  As she bobbed from foot to foot, Leo’s laugh swooped in from behind her, his arms coming around her waist once more, moving her forward.

A lock clicked.  A door creaked.  Warm air hit her, and he removed the blindfold.

She had to blink several times, struggling to get her eyelashes back into place and make sense of the blurry picture before her.  Soon, her vision cleared.

“Wow,” she gasped.

The yacht’s interior was all white, but the double tray ceiling was lined with black crown molding and dotted with recessed lighting, making the room jump out and dominate the eye.  Wall-to-wall windows allotted an unobstructed view of the black ocean outside, and the red moon peeking in.  A white area rug sat in the middle, topped by a white U-shaped sectional lined with colorful throw pillows.