Loving Leo (The Romanovsky Brothers Book 3) (5 page)

The kiss grew intense fast and before she knew it, Zoey was pulling at his shirt.  He removed his lips from hers just long enough to snatch it over his head.  He did away with her flowy top, as well, tucking his fingers into the low neckline and ripping the buttons open, exposing her lavender bra.

She stood when their lips met again, moving faster, with more purpose.  Their tongues swirled as his shaky fingers undid her jeans and removed them, along with her panties.

His fingers trailed a hot path to her full ass, and he gripped it possessively, tugging her closer.

She fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, hardly able to focus on anything past his strong lips, his insistent kiss.   Her eyes fluttered open, and found his pressed shut.

When she took too long to finish the job, he opened his eyes and swept her hands away.  He finished undoing his jeans with urgent fingers, pushing them down to his ankles, followed by his boxers, while holding her eyes.

Her hooded lids followed his orbs, a tiny smile pushing her lips.

He drank that smile in like it was his last drop, even if he was incapable of giving one back.

“Please don’t ever stop smiling at me like that, Zo.  I swear to God, it dominates me.”

She cupped his jaw as his erection sprang free, eyes locked to his as she turned away and clutched the table.   Pressing her wetness into his heat erased the smile from her face, replacing it with a frown of naked need.  She reached behind her to take him, push him inside, so thirsty to feel him spreading her, to bounce him to completion that everything else failed to exist outside of satiating that need.

Pleasure shot through him, nearly claimed him, but he took her arms in the nick of time, just before that delicate balance between control and surrender tipped.  That delicate place where logic still struggled to breathe, just before debilitating love won over and washed it away.

“I don’t want it like that,” he whispered, moving his hands to her waist.

Zoey followed his coaxing arms until she was facing him. He leaned forward and brushed his nose to her heat, inhaling deeply before she slid down onto his lap.  She held his flexed biceps and straddled the chair, giggling when her protruding stomach pressed against his abs, soft on hard.

“Yes, Zo, like this.  I need to see you.” Encircling her in his arms, he gazed up at her.  His breathing grew labored when their eyes met.  He swallowed thickly, lips parting when she took his shoulders and stood taller, just high enough to claim him and push him into her soaking center.

A moan burned passed his lips.

She covered them with her own, tasting his pain as she sank down.  “That’s it baby,” she soothed, tightening her walls as she took him, inch by inch.  When his moans ebbed into strangled cries, she cradled his face between her breasts, muffling the sound. “There you go, baby, there you go…” He filled her to the hilt with ease, and she got to work swaying against him, giving a firm rock of her hips.

He rocked back, feeling the darkness peel away.  She was the only person alive who could send him awash with light, even as he stole every inch of it from her.

Deep emotion clouded his eyes.  He clawed at the skin on her back.

“Let it go, Val.  Just let it go, baby.  Please.  Give it all to me.”

He cupped her head when he came, and didn’t make a sound, searching her smiling eyes with his tortured ones, scratching for a peace that had become impossible to find.

His nails dug into her hair and pulled, harder, deeper.

If he was hurting her, she didn’t show it.

Leo squinted against the bright light shining in through his bedroom window, spitting blonde hair out of his mouth while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  He sat up in his bed with a moan, only able to get halfway up.

The blonde on his shoulder stirred and turned, taking the hair that had found its way into his mouth with her as she writhed to the edge of the bed and went back to sleep.  The redhead drooling on his stomach moaned when he moved her away, even though he did it with a tender hand.  She curled into a ball in the middle of the bed as he climbed out of the rumpled sheets.

The wood floors froze the balls of his feet as he left the room, cursing under his breath when he stumbled into the floor heater in the hallway, jamming his knee.  Hissing, he grabbed it in his hand, jumping on one foot into the living room.

A sleepy smile lit his face as he caught sight of his favorite person in the world.

“Good morning, Consuela.” He beamed, still on one foot as he waved to the four-foot-nine, heavyset woman pushing a mop along his living room floors.  The strands that had escaped her jet-black bun stuck to the perspiration on her forehead, and her gloved hand fisted the black trash bag that she dragged around behind her.  The empty liquor bottles inside sang as she did.

She looked up from the middle of the living room, met Leo’s eyes, and curled her lip.  Exploding into a tirade of Spanish, she dropped the trash bag and threw her free hand through the air, her voice rising to ear splitting levels.

Puto, pendejo
and
bastardo
were just a few of the colorful words Consuela loved to throw at Leo, and that morning was no exception.

Leo nodded.  “It’s great to see you, too, Consuela.  A ray of sunshine, as always.”

“Pinche idiota!”

“My knee?  Oh, it’s good.  Just smashed it into the floor heater, that’s all.” Leo dropped his knee and limped into the kitchen, swiping an orange up from the fruit bowl on the island.  He couldn’t speak Spanish, but he got the gist, and was aware that his maid’s favorite pastime was cussing him out.  He’d be damned though, if his home wasn’t spotless every morning.  As long as she did her job, she could call him every name in the book.

“Cabron!”

“I’m great, Consuela,” Leo called as her rant floated into the kitchen.  “Thank you so much for asking.”  With a smirk, he went to work peeling the orange, excited to get the day started.

***

Roman puffed on a cigarette, squinting against the rising sun splashing into the parking garage as he tapped the ash out of the open passenger window of Val’s Audi convertible. His younger brother’s eyes bored into him from the driver side of the parked car, but Roman kept his gaze forward.

“Has anyone besides you and Zo been in this car in the last month?” he asked.

Val breathed in at the sudden sound of Roman’s voice.  They’d been sitting in silence for almost half an hour. “Not in the last
year,”
Val said.

Roman took another drag.

“Rome, will you never look at me the same?”

Roman’s gaze flew to Val, blue eyes narrowing as a billow of smoke escaped his pink lips.  “You were just a kid.”

Val leaned against the driver door and shoved his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes.

Roman looked off.  “You were afraid.  Of course Pop did whatever he could to protect you.”

“Where did you even get that mug shot, Rome?  Who gave it to you?”

Roman tossed the bud of his cigarette and promptly lit another, taking a heavy drag before answering, “Angie.”

Val scoffed.  “How did I know?”

“She’s constantly running all over the city.  God only knows where she got it.”

“Fuck,” Val breathed, looking out of his window.

“Don’t talk about this over the phone, in the office, or at home.  If you have to talk about it, do it somewhere out in the open where you can’t be bugged or tapped.  I think Angie got the mug shot from someone on the inside.  A cop.”

Val’s breathing picked up.

“I swiped the mug shot from her file before she got a chance to see it.” Roman met his eyes.  “She doesn’t know about it.  But whoever gave it to her does, and they’re probably following up.  Be careful who you talk to, and where you do it.”

“I won’t talk about it with anyone, anywhere, because I don’t talk about it.  None of us do.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Roman cut his eyes at Val.

“We were trying to protect you, Rome.  The fact that you even know now is tearing me up.”

Roman jammed his eyes closed, shaking his head as the cigarette burned between his fingers.  “Not about the Blacks,” he said.  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew who my real father was? That you knew all along?”

Val squinted.

Roman pressed on.  “In the study, you told me that Knox was working that night. That he was one of the people who made all this shit go away.”

Val cringed.  “Knox Jefferson is your real father?”

Roman heard the shock in his voice, and he saw it in his eyes. “You didn’t know?”

Val cursed under his breath and ran his fingers through his hair.  “This is so fucked-up.”

“You didn’t know.”  Roman took a deep breath.  A silence passed before he tossed his third cigarette of the morning. “Pull yourself together,” he said, nodding out of the window and toward the Novsky building, where employees were already filing inside across the street.  “We’re late.”

***

After checking in with security in the lobby the next morning, the elevators dinged open at the very top floor, and Jessica was met with the captivating Novsky sign.  Bolted to the wall, the floor-to-ceiling sign stretched from one end of the sprawling entryway to the other.

The young African American girl behind the frosted reception desk gave Jessica a brilliant smile. “Good morning.  Welcome to Novsky, how can I help you today?”

Jessica clutched the desk and looked to her left.

Val hadn’t lied.  There were no walls.  From the welcome desk, she could see every inch of the office.

Four rows of white computer desks sat in the middle of an enormous room, with employees tapping away on desktop computers.  Mini hammocks hung from the vaulted ceilings in one corner, employees rocking back and forth with their work cradled in their laps.  In the other corner, a large staircase led the way to a stainless steel slide that dropped from the ceiling to the floor.  Next to the slide was a large circular recliner, perfect for office meetings.  A bright splash of red had been painted on the far wall, a perfect offset to the red beanbag chairs sprinkled all over the room.

“It’s unconventional,” the receptionist said, reclaiming Jessica’s attention. “Mr. Romanovsky will be pleased to hear that another person’s mouth fell open at the sight of the office.”

“It’s no wonder his employees are so loyal.  Who wouldn’t be when there’s a giant slide to play on all day?”

The receptionist laughed.  “You must be Ashley Williams, Mr. Romanovsky’s nine o’clock.”

Jessica’s eyebrows jumped.  This girl was good.

“He is in a meeting at the moment. Just take a seat and I’ll call you when he’s ready.”

Jessica thanked her before making her way over to the plush red chairs in the waiting area.  She took a seat opposite the only other person waiting, a heavyset blonde woman.

“You here for the graphic design position?” the woman asked.

Jessica nodded.  “My interview is at nine.”

“Mine was at eight.”

Jessica checked her watch.  “It’s eight fifty.”

The blonde nodded to the left, and Jessica’s eyes followed.  At the end of a hallway tucked in the farthest corner was an office lined with glass.  On the other side of that glass she saw all four brothers and a dark-skinned black man.  Jessica recognized that man as Reggie King, the Governor’s son.  Her heartbeat picked up, and she moved to the edge of her seat with wide eyes, trying to get a better look.

“I thought this place didn’t have offices?”  Jessica asked.

“That’s the only one.  Val only uses it for important meetings and interviews.  I’ve been researching this place for months.  This is my second interview.”  The blonde offered her hand.  “I’m Sue.”

Jessica took it.  “Ashley.”

“Is this your second interview too?”

“First.” Jessica moved her gaze back to the office, nearly tumbling from her chair when Val came into view.  Whatever discussion the men were entrenched in was keeping them in constant motion, pacing, each appearing to be in the middle of a screaming rant whenever they came into view.

From her partially obstructed vantage point, Jessica could see that Val was looking sharp in a black suit, a far cry from the t-shirt and beanie he’d been rocking the night before.  The gelled style he’d put his hair into came undone as he screamed something.  His skin went beet red, and he jabbed his finger at someone she couldn’t see, looking homicidal.

“That’s Reggie King in there,” Sue said.  “Odds are good he’s going to acquire Novsky.  Looks like Val’s not going down without a fight.  I guess we get to watch the drama unfold together.”

***

Reggie King grinned across the boardroom table with his hands in his pockets.  Even as four pairs of eyes spat venom, assaulting him from every corner of the office, Reggie’s placid smile remained.

“You can sell Novsky to me now,” Reggie said.  “And still have a hand in the daily operation of your beloved family company, or I can simply acquire it slowly, piece by agonizing piece, until Zillow has swallowed it whole.  The former might sting at first, but it’s nothing that won’t heal over time.”  Reggie’s dark brown eyes zeroed in on Val, who was leaning against the end of the boardroom table with his head lowered.  Leo gazed out of the only window of the office, jaw so stiff it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.  Gary paced a short line, back and forth.  Roman was the only brother sitting down, leaning back in his chair with a hand over his lips, hiding a scowl.  Reggie shrugged again.  “As Zillow’s founder and CEO, I understand how much Novsky means to all of you, and I
understand
that if you let this cock fight get to the point of a creeping acquisition, it’ll be kind of like… losing a limb.”  Reggie waited for Val to raise his heated eyes, and his smile grew.  “One limb after the other, until you’re utterly crippled from head to toe.  It’ll be slow.  Painful.  Inevitable.  It doesn’t have to happen that way, Val.”

It was Val’s turn to smile, but it barely reached his eyes before it crumbled, vanishing altogether as he looked away.

Gary charged toward Reggie, teeth bared.

Reggie stepped back, heartbeat picking up speed as he lifted his chin.

“After everything we’ve done for you,” Gary said.  “This is what you do to us?”

“This isn’t personal.” Reggie’s voice lowered.  He licked his dry lips.  “This is business.”

“Fuck you.”

Reggie’s smile grew.  “Okay.”

“All our family has
ever
done is look out for you, you son of a bitch.  And this is how you repay us?  Huh?”  Gary stabbed a trembling finger into the table. “Everything we did for you… And you have the
stomach
to take the coins out of our pocket? Out of our mother’s pocket?  The woman who used to ice your swollen jaw, your black eyes, and your busted lips when that animal went to town on your face?”

“Gary.” Roman leaned forward in his seat, trying to catch his younger brother’s gaze.  He fell back with a sigh, re-covering his mouth when Gary didn’t even acknowledge him.

Gary’s body shook from head to toe, redness splashing across his eyes.  “You’ll take from the woman who laid your head in her lap, like you were her own?  You’ll take from our father, who opened his door to you without question, time and time again, when you were too afraid to go home?  Well, know this Reggie.  Regardless of whether or not you get Novsky, that monster will
never
love you—”

“Gary.”  This time, it was Val who objected.

“It doesn’t matter what you say, or what you do, he will never love you like we did.” Gary leaned in.  “He will never change.”

Reggie lifted his head higher, hands curling into fists in his pockets, making his slacks pull tight against his legs.

“He will never
be there for you the way we
always
were.  One day you’re going to wake up and realize that.”

Reggie’s smile remained, but when he swallowed, his throat moved.

Gary watched it wobble.  “And Reggie… that’s the kind of guilt that won’t wash clean.”