by Max Monroe
My bare legs.
My lacy underwear.
“I never thought I’d be an admirer of lace with pink polka dots, but yeah, I’m officially a fan.”
So much for not showing him your face, you little floozy.
“Shit.” I groaned and tossed the blankets off my head and sat up with my back against the headboard.
He pouted. “Aw, Gem. I was really enjoying the cave communications.”
“I’m aware.” I snorted. “Looks like now you’re just stuck with Hagrid.”
“Well, I’m no Harry Potter expert, but if this is Hagrid, fuck, he’s beautiful.”
I giggled and blushed at the same time. “Don’t give me your pity compliments, Leonard.”
“The only pity occurring right now is that I’m ten hours away from you.”
“And what would you do if you were closer?”
“I’d get in my car and join my Hagrid in bed.”
I laughed. “And then what would you do?”
Leo quirked a brow. “Well, I’d start by enjoying the up close and personal view,” he said, and a raspy groan escaped his lips. “Yeah, I’d enjoy the fuck out of that view.”
“Then what?” I asked before I could stop the words from leaving my lips.
“Oh, sweet, beautiful, sexy Gemma, how much time do we have?” he asked, and I swear to God, he licked his lips. “Because this conversation might take a while.”
Fuck, I wanted to know. Badly. But I also didn’t want the conversation to head toward phone sex. Alma would call me Virgin Mary for avoiding it, but I wasn’t ready. We were new, and I was attached. Phone sex would complicate things, and when sex started to complicate things, I at least wanted a warm body to cuddle me while I freaked out.
And with the way my body was already starting to react to his words, I didn’t trust myself to stop things before they got too far.
“Nope,” I said. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“You don’t want to know?”
I shook my head. “No way in hell will I let our first sexual encounter be via FaceTime.”
Leo chuckled softly and waggled his brows. “Are you saying we will have a sexual encounter in the near future?”
I rolled my eyes. But I also smiled. “Why exactly did you call me again?”
“Because I wanted to see you,” he said with a grin. “And because I wanted to make sure we were still on for tomorrow night.”
“Yes, we’re still on.”
“Pick you up at seven?”
“I’ll be ready,” I whispered. “Good night, Leonard.”
“Sweet dreams, Gem.”
Sweet dreams? After that call? Yeah, right. I highly doubted there was anything sweet about the dirty, Leo-infused fantasies that were already rolling through my brain.
Gemma’s voice rolled over the words of “Black Velvet” on the stage of Minard’s, a karaoke club I’d found with the help of Teeny Martinez. It was in the bowels of Manhattan, and the walls seemed like they were living, they shimmered with so much filth, but tonight was one of the best times I’d ever had in my life.
Tonight was date number two, and somehow, someway, whenever I was with Gemma, I felt like I was flying.
High off her. High off us. Fucking loving any moment that included time spent with her.
And for the second time, I had the pleasure of hearing her undeniable talent firsthand.
I sat in the crowd, at our little table in the middle of the bar, and she stood onstage with a mic to her lips and her gorgeous crooning filling my ears.
She was always beautiful, even during middle of the night FaceTime calls with messy hair and sleep-rimmed eyes, but when she was onstage, she was at her most breathtaking.
If only I could get her to realize how fucking talented she truly was.
Her voice rasped with gravel and then turned smooth as silk as she sang the final words over and over again.
If you please.
Good God, did I ever.
She was a goddess and a performer and a feisty little bright spot on the stage all at once, and the crowd was going crazy for her.
Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at the bastards who stared at her with heat in their eyes.
This girl, my girl, was a fucking magnet you couldn’t take your eyes off of.
I’d sung a song of my own, but other than a tiny moment of recognition, the crowd hadn’t given me even half the ovation. And, fuck, the whole damn establishment had acknowledged my rookie status on the New York Mavericks the instant we stepped inside the front doors.
The irony of it made me smile. It made me proud. It made me feel only validation and joy for Gemma.
I loved seeing her in this element. This loose. This at ease.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to take her on a date where she didn’t sing, such was the siren-like call of her voice and the euphoria her performance provided.
I wasn’t sure what the next stop on our dating tour could be, having already done both the drag club and the karaoke bar, but I knew it sure as hell wouldn’t be a silent night at the movies.
The crowd went wild as the song came to a close, and Gemma jumped down off the stage gracefully.
My smile stretched from ear to ear as I awaited her arrival at our table, a fresh drink in her spot that I’d ordered in preparation.
She mooned over the simple gesture as she sat down, and I marveled at how easy it was to impress her.
“Nonna must treat you really awful if ordering you a drink is this impressive.”
She laughed. “God, I love when you call her that, Leonard.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s who she is to me.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “And you’re Leonard to her.” She smirked. “She talks about you constantly.”
And for once, I was the one who blushed.
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Oh yes, she does. She thinks you hung the moon and the stars and then some.”
I laughed. “That sure isn’t how she talks to me.”
“Of course it isn’t. Because she also thinks you’re too cocky for your own good.”
“Now, that sounds more like her,” I said with a roll of my eyes, and she nodded. “How do you like working for her, by the way?”
“Aside from all the dildo handling?” She shrugged. “I guess it’s pretty good.”
I’m sorry…what? Did she just say dildo handling?
“Aside from the what?” I asked. Surely, my ears had deceived me.
“Aside from the dildo handling.”
Apparently, my ears are working just fine…
Those two words latched themselves inside my brain, and once I’d comprehended them as much as was mentally possible, my sip of beer turned right around in my throat, spraying up and out before I could stop it.
Gemma held up a hand in front of her face and squealed. “Oh my God. What is it with us and fluids?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, ignoring her question completely. “Did you really just say dildos?”
“Oh no!” She covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes widened as realization set in. “Holy crap!” she muttered behind the skin of her palm. “You didn’t know?”
“Please tell me dildos is a code word for anything else besides actual dildos.”
Her laugh was uproarious and long, and if it weren’t for how completely exhilarating I found it, the wait might have annoyed me.
When she finally got it together, her smile was unrepentant. “What exactly do you think your aunt sells?”
“T-shirts or candles or some shit,” I answered, and she giggled.
“So, I hate to break this to you, but your aunt has an online sex toy and lingerie business. That’s what I do for her. Organize them and ship them out.”
“You have got to be shitting me.”
She shook her head vigorously. “I cannot believe you didn’t know.”
“Of course I didn’t know! I guess that’s not the sort of t
hing you tell your great-nephew. Fucking hell, that was way, way, way too much information for my brain to handle.”
“I guess I probably shouldn’t tell you who does all the inventory testing then, huh?”
I almost choked again on my beer and shook my head adamantly. “For the love of God, no more details. Let me go back to thinking my Nonna sells candles and fucking T-shirts.”
Fucking hell, I knew my Nonna was a goddamn wild card, but her selling sex toys online wasn’t even within the realm of possibility until about two minutes ago when Gemma had spilled the terrifying beans.
Nearly five Christmases ago, Nonna had announced to the family that she was going to start her own online store and sell T-shirts as a fun hobby.
Fucking T-shirts, not sex toys.
Pretty sure if she had mentioned dildos that night at Christmas dinner, none of us would’ve been able to finish our meals. Also, we probably wouldn’t have been so damn enthusiastic for her.
We’d cheered on her new venture, completely oblivious to the fact that T-shirts weren’t even close to what she’d actually had in mind.
“So…” Gemma paused for a moment, and a cute little smile kissed her lips. “Shall we table this conversation for another time, then?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “How about we reschedule it for never? The less I know about my Nonna peddling dildos online, the better.”
She snorted then, trying to contain her laughter and failing miserably.
Before long, I was laughing with her…and falling closer and closer to fully enthralled.
The smooth skin of her leg under my hand, I leaned forward and touched my lips to hers. They tasted like apple martinis this time, her drink of choice throughout tonight’s events, and the buzz in the air was potent.
I needed more than just this kiss, and I needed it badly.
She was like a drug in my veins, and I needed a full hit.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” I asked softly, curling my hand around her neck and my words around the shell of her ear.
She shivered and nodded.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice a soft whisper.
I dug out my wallet, tossed down a hundred-dollar bill, and guided her to the coat rack at the front to get our jackets. This wasn’t the kind of establishment with a coat check, but at least they’d had a place to put them. The stools at the table would have made the feat difficult.
My fingertips grazed her skin as I slid her jacket up her arms and settled it at her shoulders before leaning forward and burying my face in her hair.
God, she smells good.
After I quickly donned my own coat, we slid out the exit with a nod to the man at the front door and walked the two blocks to my car in near silence.
Tension bloomed and bled between us, and it was all I could do to keep from dragging her down an alley.
As it was, when we made it to the car, I’d waited as long as I could.
With a soft thud, I shoved her into the door and put my lips to hers, and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders in kind.
The build wasn’t slow, and the dance of our tongues wasn’t subtle. We were both bursting at the seams.
By the time I broke it off, my cock was hard and painful in my jeans, and I pulled my hips away from her to keep her from feeling pressured.
“It was a good night tonight, Gem,” I said softly against her neck, trying to get my breathing under control.
“Really good night,” she agreed, her voice nothing more than a breath.
I pushed away and opened her door and then clicked it shut behind her when she was safely into the seat.
She watched me the whole way around the hood. I could feel her eyes, but I couldn’t watch her.
No, it was safe to say I’d have to spend the entire drive back to her apartment thinking of aunt Alma and her sex toy brigade if I had any hope of calming down my cock.
Leo pulled up in front of my apartment and slowed the Durango to a soft stop.
Instantly, a whole mess of tingles and flutters filled my belly.
Should I ask him inside?
Does he want to come inside?
I couldn’t exactly make assumptions on his behalf, but I knew what I wanted.
And it wasn’t a night that ended with a simple good night kiss. But wanting it and not acting like a virgin in a room full of dancing dicks were two different things. In fact, I think I’d proven my track record for being awkward pretty indisputably.
“Do you…uh…want to come in for a…uh…coffee?” I asked, bumbling around my intentions.
Seriously, Gemma? Coffee at midnight?
Leo grinned. “Do you want me to come inside for a coffee?”
A quiet chat over coffee was the exact opposite of what I had in mind. And I told him as much. “No, not really.”
Of course, my intentions weren’t as easy to read in my words as they were in my head, and now I sounded like a wishy-washy person with memory problems.
Not surprisingly, he quirked a brow at my rebuttal. “So, you don’t want me to come inside for coffee. But you just asked me to come inside for coffee because…?”
Shit. This sure wasn’t going as planned. Now would be the perfect time to stop beating around the proverbial sex bush and just tell him what you want… Man up, Gemma.
I looked deep into his baby-blue eyes, let my gaze linger down his face, all the way to his full lips.
Fuck pleasantries. Fuck manners. Fuck Leo—literally.
“I asked you to come inside for coffee because, well, I was trying to be super smooth and not so obvious. But in reality, I’m secretly just hoping you’ll come inside and get naked,” I admitted boldly. As soon as I was done, I had to avert my eyes from the vulnerable way it made me feel, but I’d done it. I was impressed with myself.
Sex-motivated or not, putting yourself out there like that wasn’t easy, and I’d taken the chance.
The car went silent for a beat, and when I found the courage to meet his face again, a slow, sexy as fuck smirk curled one corner of his mouth.
“And what will you be doing in this equation?”
You.
Even though inside, my heart was beating against my rib cage, I shrugged off his question like I was all of a sudden cool as a cucumber. I am confident, I am woman, I am sex goddess. “I guess it depends.”
His smirk grew wider. “On what exactly?”
“On if I like what I see.” I shrugged again, and a wolflike laugh left his lips.
It was amused and turned on, and good God, Grandma, the teasing was all the better to foreplay me with. Without pretense or a verbal response, he leaned right in, closer and closer until I could feel the heat of his breath mingling with mine, and then finally, he gave me the sweet relief of contact.
His lips on mine, perfect and pure, and the anticipation in my core bursting in a wild display of fireworks and let’s-get-the-fuck-inside.
The kiss turned devious when his tongue snuck past his teeth and gently licked along the seam of my mouth, and when he slipped his tongue in to dance with mine, I moaned.
Okay, who needs the indoors? Streets and cars and steamy windows are where it’s at.
It was a curl-my-fucking-toes kind of kiss, and I was more than ready to channel sixteen-year-old Gemma and engage in a hot and heavy make-out sesh in his car.
Evidently, Leo had other plans and started to slow the kiss way, way down.
“I think we both know you’re going to more than like what you see,” he whispered against my mouth as I struggled to be okay with the stopping.
I’ve mentioned that I’m a doer. A full-motion, on-the-go lady who likes to keep occupied. Well, when it came to kissing men with big hands and skilled tongues and eyes that made the sun seem dull, apparently, all that motivation to do turned into an obsession. Do lips. Do tongues. Do Leo.
Enthralled with the activities as I was, I had to shake my head at least two times to figure out what he was even answering.
&nbs
p; Had I asked something? Suggested something saucily? I couldn’t remember. The only balm to my pout was a single final kiss he pressed to my lips like an oral consolation prize.
Still, I full on pouted. I couldn’t help it. I wanted more of whatever black voodoo magic he was sending my way. His grin was the only thing that made me feel better about the sudden silence of the engine as he climbed out the door and rounded the hood to open the one on my side for me.
An easy whisk of the door and a helping hand later, my heels hit the concrete for a split second before he lifted me up into his arms in an army hold with a whoosh. I squealed, full-on Justin Belieber at a concert decibel levels.
“Oh my God! What are you doing?”
“Just making sure you get inside safely.” He winked and took the steps up toward my apartment two at a fucking time.
“It feels like you’re in a hurry,” I said through a few giggles, but he ignored me, his strides only increasing in speed until he came to a halt at the entrance.
“Keys?” he asked simply, and I giggled again. Knowing he was suffering as greatly as I was somehow eased my own hissy fit, but that didn’t mean I slowed. As quickly as I could, I obliged by reaching inside my purse and unlocking the entry door.
Before I knew it, we were in the main lobby and nearing the elevator at a record-breaking pace.
“Are you sure you’re not in some kind of rush?” I asked again, taunting him for my own enjoyment.
No doubt about it, the man had some fucking stamina. My brain started to entertain ideas of what all of that professional football training equated to in the bedroom. I was hoping for a whole lot of touchdowns.
“Rush?” he questioned with a devilish smirk. “Not at all.”
His actions completely belied his words as, instead of waiting for the always slow as hell elevator in my building, he kicked open the door to the stairs and started jogging up them two at a time.
With me still in his arms.
It took all of two minutes before I’d unlocked the door to my apartment and Leo carried me inside.
“You can put me down now, you lunatic,” I teased, and thankfully, he set me back to my feet just before shutting and locking my front door.
Luckily, the apartment was still as night, the only sounds filling my ears the steady, pounding beats of my heart and the soft murmurs of Leo’s breath behind me.