by North, Paige
Leo slid open the doors, and the rough sound of the waves and the cool breeze of the ocean all came rushing in.
“Impressed?” Leo asked.
I shook my head. “You know I am. You don’t have or do anything unless it impresses people.” His grin told me that what I said was true.
“Come look,” he said, and I followed him out onto the deck.
Lights shone out over the railing, down onto the beach and the water rolling in not but a few feet away. Leo came up behind me, his arms resting on either side of me on the railing, locking me in as I looked out at the view. His chin brushed my forehead. He covered his hands on mine and I let myself fall back into his chest.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. He kissed my temple, the heat of his lips on me undeniable. He moved down to my cheek and then my neck, making my eyes roll shut and a deep sigh flow out of out of my mouth. He let his tongue skim my neck, and lightly nipped the skin there, making me want to scream out over the sound of the waves crashing. I’d been kissed on my neck before, but never like that. Leo had a way of doing things to me, making me feel ways I’d never felt before. I tilted my head to the side, giving him more of my neck to kiss and lick and nibble. I pressed into his chest more. Reaching back, I put my hand behind his head, gathering the curls there, and pulled him even closer to me. I would have sworn I could stand there forever, letting his lips taste my skin, and I’d never get tired of it, I’d never get bored, I’d never be able to get enough. His lips moved to my shoulder, and he pulled away the small bit of fabric from my dress so that he didn’t miss a single spot. He took a little bite out of my skin there, and I yelped.
“Hey,” I said, looking at him. “Careful.”
“Can’t be,” he said, kissing the same spot. “I want to eat up every part of you.”
“How do you know all things I want right when I think them?” I turned around to face him, my back to the railing. I leaned toward him, my lips touching his. Despite the cool ocean air all I felt was the warmth of his lips. His tongue touched mine, and I pulled him closer, my hand digging in his hair as his wrapped around my back, pulling my hips toward him. I let my hand drift over his chest, and I longed to feel the skin beneath his shirt. Just as my fingers began playing with the buttons, he stopped me.
“Wait,” he said. “Come inside.”
I would have followed him straight out into the ocean if he’d asked.
I thought he might take him to his bedroom or at least give me a tour of his stunning (second) home, but instead we sat on the white linen couch, a respectable distance between us.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, suddenly nervous. Was he going to tell me that he didn’t want to see me anymore, or worse—that he knew who I was?
“Of course,” he said, reaching for my hand. I instinctively moved closer to him; he put his other hand on top of mine and held tight. With his eyes down on our hands, he said, “I don’t want you think I just brought you here to sleep with you, although,” he smiled, “I have to admit it’s on my mind a lot.” I grinned, my chest bursting with the pleasure of knowing I’d been on Leo Armstrong’s mind. He ran his fingers up my arm, sending chills all over my body. “But then I realized,” he said, “that I don’t even know where you’re from. I know somewhere in Maine, but I don’t know what town.”
I almost laughed. Actually, I think I kind of did. Leo Armstrong wanted to know where I was from? Okay, then. “Mechanicsville, Maine. It’s about as glamorous as it sounds.”
“Hmm, Mechanicsville,” he said with mock serious. “And I suppose you were raised to be a mechanic?”
“Way to go for the low-hanging fruit,” I said.
“An uncreative movie guy,” he joked. “What’d you expect? I need you to edit me.”
“Very funny,” I said, but I loved the sound of him needing me, even if he was only teasing.
“Did you always want to be a writer?”
“This is sounding strangely like a job interview or something.”
“Or something like a date?” he said. “I’d say a first date but I’m not sure we’ve properly had one so I want make sure I get to know you. Like a normal guy who is seeing a normal girl.”
“You are so not a normal guy,” I said.
“And you are no normal girl,” he said, grinning. “So tell me—what’s your favorite movie?”
“Sure, no pressure,” I said. “Only the movie question.”
“It doesn’t have to be one of my movies,” he said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it isn’t.”
“If this were a job interview, I’d definitely say one of your movies,” I said. “I’d say, Dangerous Connections. Or maybe No Second Chances. Both visually stunning.”
“No, come on,” he joked right back with me. “What kind of movies do you like?”
“This is like when someone asks what kind of music you listen to, and you have to admit that you love pop music more than anything.”
“I love pop music,” he said, touching his chest. When I gave him a look, he said, “Okay, I think it’s insipid and the end of civilization as we know it but that’s okay. You can still be a normal person and like pop music. Maybe. I don’t know, I might need to think on this one.”
“Forget it,” I said. “I’m not telling you what my favorite movie is or what kind of music I like.”
“So you do like pop music?”
He eyed me closely as I sat for a moment, thinking. Finally I burst out, “Okay, it’s true! I like pop music, which, by the way, means popular music. Lots of people like it. It’s fun and energetic and sometimes the lyrics really speak to me.”
Leo fell back against the sofa, his hands over his face. “Oh my god, what have I gotten myself into? Next thing I know she’ll be telling me her favorite movie is Maid in Manhattan.”
“Well, it wasn’t so bad…”
“Stop! I can’t listen anymore!”
“Oh, please,” I said. “Coming from the guy whose last movie had more explosions than the last six months’ movies combined. Yeah, that’s art.”
“Ouch,” he said, clutching his heart. “Hit me where it hurts.”
I reached over and put my hand over his, over his heart. “Don’t worry. You’ll survive. I bet that thing is made of steel, anyway.” He slid his hand out from under mine, and covered my hand with his. I felt the steady beat of it his heart beneath the soft fabric of his shirt, and once again I wanted to undo those buttons of his. My eyes found his, looking at me so closely, sending a swarm of butterflies into my stomach. His fingertips touched my face, then traced lightly over my lips, which were parted and eager for him to come closer, to cover mine with his.
“I love kissing these lips,” he said quietly.
I nudged my chin up the smallest bit, wanting to be closer to his. He didn’t move, just kept looking and brushing my lips, using his thumb to tug slightly on my bottom lip. I thought I might scream out if I didn’t have more of him, so I ran my hand over his strong, solid chest, feeling the muscles beneath, feeling his own breath pick up at my touch.
He took my face in his hands, pulled me to him and pressed his lips to mine. I inhaled his now-familiar scent, that sweetness and spice mingling together, and let his lips set the pace. Just having a part of my body pressed up to his, having his hands on me, was what I needed. Soon, his tongue slipped against mine, and I savored the taste of him. The deep intake of breath he took seemed to mirror the way I felt—any touch was thrilling, but I always wanted a little more, then a little more again.
He pulled me closer to him so that my chest was pressed against his. Our kisses became deeper, more urgent. My fingers got lost in his hair as his hands roamed my back and caressed my waist. He kissed my cheeks, not sweetly but passionately, and soon his lips were back on my neck, kissing, tasting, tugging on my skin. I turned my head, giving him as much of my neck as he wanted, and he covered me with more of his mouth, pulling down the side of my dress to kiss my shoulder. His hand ran across my neck and collarbone,
and I leaned away to give him more, always more. He traced my skin with his fingertips, his eyes hungry and on my body.
I’d never felt passion like this in my life. I’d liked guys before, and had obviously been attracted to them, but nothing like this. With my ex, Paul, the kisses and everything else had been slow and dull, nothing like the feeling I had of wanting to rip every inch of clothing off Leo as he did the same to me.
He pulled one side of my dress strap down off my shoulder, then the other, kissing my chest as he went. I hoped with every cell in my body that he planned to kiss every inch of me, no matter how long it took. I’d never needed something so much in my life as I needed more of him, right then.
I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, exposing my bare breasts to him. His breath deepened as his eyes took me in.
“My god,” he said. “You’re so beautiful.”
His hand held my breast firmly as his mouth went back to my skin, going lower, onto the top of my breast as his hand stayed on the other, his thumb brushing across my hardened nipple. I arched my back, giving him more. His tongue lapped across my nipple and I gripped onto the back of his head, gathering his curls in my hand as I tried not to cry out. The slow licks his tongue made had me panting, and when he gently took my nipple between his teeth and gave a little pull, I moaned.
“Please,” I said. “Don’t stop.”
He gave me what I wanted. His mouth worked over my breasts more urgently, his hand holding and kneading me, and then his mouth was on me again, taking as much in as he could while his tongue worked its magic, rocking a sensitive spot in me, making me completely wet, wishing he could be all over me at once. The things he’d done to me so far—at his apartment, on his plane, and even here tonight—showed me that he knew exactly what my body wanted before I even knew myself. Tonight, though, I didn’t want to stop.
“Leo,” I said, but it came out like a moan. My head was tilted back, my fingers still tangled in his hair. I tried again. “Leo, wait. Not here.”
He pulled back and looked at me, concern in his eyes. “Okay, I’ll stop.” His fingers touched my face softly. “I don’t what it is about you, Sophie, but you’re impossible to resist. Should I slow down? Or stop?”
I found it utterly charming that he was worried about pushing me too far when all I wanted to do was go all the way, and now. I smiled and said, “Do not stop. Do not slow down. Just…not here. On the couch. If that’s okay.”
His eyes darkened as he crushed his lips back to mine quickly, deeply before pulling back again. He pulled the straps of my dress back up into place, kissing my shoulder again.
“Come on,” he said, standing, giving me a full view of just how much he wanted me. Flashbacks of his bulging cock in my mouth came back to me, and I had to take his hand to pull me into standing position—I wasn’t sure I had the strength.
When I stood face to face with Leo, his hair was tousled and looked wild, giving him a boyish look. He kissed my lips again, and I wondered if we’d even make it to the bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
Leo grabbed the edge of the comforter and pulled the whole thing off in one dramatic motion. I almost laughed, but when he turned his eyes back to me, all sense of funny vanished along with that comforter.
He kissed me, taking my mouth as if it belonged to him. A groan tickled in my throat, wanting to give him everything he wanted. My entire body throbbed to feel every inch of him. My legs felt weak, and I wanted him to just throw me down on the bed, but something about standing near it and not having it felt even hotter.
My fingers found his chest, and the buttons on his shirt that held me back from his delicious skin. As he continued to kiss me so deeply, I fumbled to open those buttons until finally they were all free and I pushed his shirt off over his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the strength and power of them as the shirt fell away. I pulled my mouth away from his, eager to see his naked chest, to savor the sight and feel of it, something I’d been longing to do.
Leo watched me, his hands lightly caressing my waist as my hands traced the peaks and dips of his muscular chest. His skin was smooth with light bits of hair across the middle. His nipples were hard and, operating only on want, I pressed the flat of my tongue on him, licking over that nipple. His sharp intake of breath edged me on, and I kissed him across his powerful chest while running a hand over the table of his abs, feeling the uneven gasps of breath he took under my hand. My hand dipped past his waist and over his cock, hard and pressing against his pants.
His eyes, heavy with passion, found mine again, and he pulled me in for another deep kiss as he pulled down the straps of my dress, slowly lowering it to my waist, exposing my bare breasts. I stepped into him, feeling our bare chests together, our flesh melding into one another, and the sensation felt like warmth. I could feel the heat on my face as his fingers found the zipper in the back of my dress, taking it all the way down and letting the dress fall to the ground. Staying as close to his body as I could, we moved together as I pushed the dress away, hearing it slide across the floor, unneeded.
Leo held my waist in his big hands, taking a step back to look at me. He shamelessly let his eyes slowly wander down my body as I stood before him, exposed. His hands roamed across my body, stroking my arms and shoulders, brushing over my beasts, taking only a moment to hold them firmly in his hands before moving further down my hips again. His hand ran across the front of my lace underwear, my stomach caving in at his touch. And then, Leo got on his knees before me.
I don’t think I’d ever seen anything hotter in my entire life.
He ran his hand across my stomach, my breath ragged at his touch, at his mouth so close to my pussy. I instinctively pushed my hips a little closer to him. He leaned in and kissed my stomach, moving his body close, his hands moving around my hips and onto my ass, letting me push closer to him.
He kissed me over my panties, on the very top of my thigh, then across to just under my bellybutton. My head fell back, feeling his mouth on me, my legs barely holding me up. My hands found his head and I wove my fingers into his thick hair, touching lightly this time, letting him move as he wanted. His mouth went lower, over my mound, my hands tightening around his curls. I looked down to see him, his mouth kissing closer to my tight bud that ached for him. He moved his mouth onto my sex, and the heat of his breath through my panties onto me made me moan out and this time, I truly felt like I would fall over from lack of oxygen.
“Leo,” I breathed. “Please. Wait.”
When he moved his mouth to look up at me, he replaced the spot on me with his hand, moving his fingers back and forth across me, sure he could feel, even through the thin fabric, how soaked I was. He ran his other hand up past my ribs, taking hold of my breast. I moaned again, my eyes falling shut.
But now that I knew we were going to actually do this—have sex—be that intimate, I realized that it was completely wrong for me to do it under false pretenses.
My lies were truly a web, trapping me, and seeing him this way and knowing how I felt about him—I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“We need to talk,” I sighed, feeling almost sick at the thought.
“Oh?” Leo stood up, his eyes concerned, and I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Talk about what?” he asked.
“I just…I don’t even know where to begin. I just…you know that I never wanted to be an actor.”
“Yes, we already covered that,” he said, his eyes crinkling up.
“And I’ve told you that I really want to write…”
Leo laughed. “And?”
I thought about just blurting it out. I’m a journalist sent to write a story about you. My name is a lie, my story is a lie…everything but the fact that I truly do have feelings for you.
“I just want us to be honest with each other,” I said. “Like, I want you to be able to tell me everything, and I can tell you—“
“Hold on,” Leo said, putting a hand up. He came closer and knelt down a
gain, grabbing my hands. “You seem like you’re getting in your head, Sophie. This doesn’t need to be heavy. I really like you and you like me, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, I really do.”
“As for the rest,” he said, looking down. “I’m not really that kind of guy—the tell each other all our secrets and deepest fears kind of guy, if you get what I’m saying.”
I felt like he’d just thrown cold water on me. He didn’t want to be intimate emotionally—just physically. So he’d asked me a few details about where I grew up, that didn’t mean he really was ever going to share himself with me. I’d been fooled again, or rather, I’d fooled myself again.
“I understand,” I told him softly.
He put a hand under my chin and tilted my head up to look at him. “Are you angry with me?” he asked.
“No. I’m not,” I said, and it was true. I was deeply disappointed, and I knew that the right thing to do now was to stop everything and leave. Perhaps even leave LA.
“Come back to me, Sophie,” he said, running his fingers over my hand, sending chills up my arms. “Don’t get in your head. Stay here. Be here with me right now.”
I realized at that moment that my desire for him was stronger than my ethical dilemma, stronger than my disappointment in Leo’s inability to really trust me or show me real commitment.
I still wanted him, in some ways more than ever.
I’d tried to tell him the truth and he’d made it very clear he wasn’t interested in hearing what I had to say.
The wolfish look in his eyes as they considered me brought me back to my base urges, and suddenly my hands went for his belt, flipping it open in quick time. His breath caught and his hands fell away from me, dangling at his side as he watched my hands unbutton and then unzip his pants, slow enough to tease him, fast enough to see what I wanted. As I pushed his pants down he quickly kicked off his shoes. As he stepped out of his pants he slipped off his socks as well.