Leon's Way (27 page)

“Arriane.”

“Yes?”

“Do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Touch yourself.”

That’s it. I need to see him, and I’m taking the weekend off. I’m not on the schedule anyway—my boyfriend has made sure they’re covered without me every single night. I’m upset and happy about it all at once.

The afterburn from his call an hour ago throbs in my thighs and where I am the warmest. Leon, he made me climax on the freaking phone! The low growl as he came during my own orgasm still makes my nipples pebble. How can we be so needy after only four days?

Four freaking
long
days.

The skin up my neck tingles with the realization: I’m stuck. We’re not made to be apart. I won’t be able to leave him after the baby is born. I want to run far away—and race to Talco at the speed of light.

Talco is hours away, though. Leon might not need me anymore once I get there. He was so different on the phone… almost needy—maybe his was a short-lived, impulse craving? My heart runs amok while even my brain insists on my travel plans. I haven’t been home in ages. Yes. If Leon’s mindset has changed, I’ll go to Mom’s.

Katsu’s already on her computers in the den when I emerge from the shower.

“Hey, lady,” I call out on my way to the kitchen.

“Mornin’, you! All good today?”

“Yep.” My heart double-skips before I continue. “Your brother… he misses me.”

She looks up, eyes bright. “He does? Well, as he should.”

“I’m gonna surprise him. Go visit.”

Her happy expression turns concerned. “Are you sure? Don’t you want to ask first?”

“No. What, is he going to keep me from heading home? My mother lives there.”

She closes the biggest laptop she’s been working on and gets up. Grabs her coffee from the table and follows me into the kitchen. “Of course not. Only—since he needs his control so badly right now, I hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way.”

Her input annoys me all of a sudden. I think of how Kat always considers Leon’s wellbeing before mine, even before the baby’s. How the reason why she wants us together is that she thinks I’m good for Leon. I usually understand, because I’d do anything for my own brother. Sometimes, though, she’s too much.

“What if you break down what you guys are building by being apart?”

“Why are you so wise, Kat? Are you twenty or seventy?” I ask, because despite her intrusion, I do see her point. She passes me a cup of decaf and pulls out my favorite creamer from the fridge.

“Nah. I just know my brother and his moods.”

“Well, I still have to do this for myself. I want to stay the weekend. If he’s not”—I make air quotes—“in the mood, I’ll sleep at my mother’s. She’s off both days.”

She controls her frown, but it’s there. “I’ll drive you.”

“Why? Because pregnant women can’t do the car thing?” I shoot her a wink while I stack dandelion leaves on top of a slice of toasted whole grain bread. I can cover up my irritation, but really it’s time she lets this go.

“I’m pretty sure you can,” she fibs back. “Leon will give Christian and me so much crap, though.”

“Which I apologize for beforehand.” I crunch down on the green goodness, swallowing a mouthful.

She smiles, affection in her eyes as they find mine. “Leon’s met his match, huh? You’re not going to be bossed around by him, are you?”

“Nope. Plus, it’s why he’s in Talco anyway, remember? He’s afraid of his own need for control.”

My limbs are stiff when I get to Leon’s motel. The place is neglected, shabby—so not him. A low, two-story building with an almost rickety banister snakes around a walkway on the second floor. The red of the exterior has faded and chipped through years of direct sunlight, and ivy suffocates scraggly rosebushes in the flowerbeds.

I ask the receptionist for Leon’s room number, but he’s not “at liberty to tell me.”

“I’m his girlfriend, and I’m surprising him,” I explain, which he admits is sweet. Nonetheless, he’s firm about the company policies.

I pull out my cell and call Leon in front of the man. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Hey, are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine, listen—”

“Baby being a good boy?”

I smile into the phone. “Yeah, he’s not acting up. Blood pressure under control—all’s good. What room do you live at in Talco?”

“Two-oh-four. Why?”

“Just wondering. A bet with Cameron.”

“Of course, and somehow I’m guessing the backstory is TMI.”

“Right. I love you,” I say, and it’s such an intimate thing on the phone in front of strangers. Over these days apart, we’ve missed each other. Yesterday morning, he even said he needed me. But “I love you” are words we don’t toss around unless we can’t help the way they slip out.

He’s silent for a few seconds. Then, he returns the sentiment before we hang up. “I love you too.”

“Two hundred and four,” I tell the receptionist. “All I want is to leave my suitcase in his room and freshen up. After that, I’ll be surprising him at work.”

He thinks hard. In the end he lifts a finger in a “one minute” gesture and turns to the wall, talking low into the phone. He grins wide when he spins back to me. “Yes, we can accommodate you, Miss. Take the elevator outside to your right, and follow the numbers to two hundred and four. The maid will let you in.”

Funny how my heart is about to skip out of my ribcage as I enter Leon’s room. He doesn’t know I’m coming. What if I don’t like what I find in here? What if he really goes to gentleman’s clubs? Brings girls home with him? He could be living a whole, secret life filled with broken-girls in my hometown. God knows he’d have more than enough willing contenders. His gorgeous, hard-bodied self would have no problem tipping most of the female population in Talco onto their backs. The way he did in Deepsilver.

Damn. I need to stop thinking.

I nod to the maid and shut the door behind me. Now I’m alone with my fretting heart. The bed has been made. Honestly, I’m not sure if that’s Leon’s or the maid’s doing, because he’s so meticulous. On the night table, there’s a half-empty water glass and nothing more.

His suitcase is propped up on a stand by the TV. It’s closed. I resist the temptation to open it. Breathing out, I head to the bathroom and grab a towel. Pull in the scent of him by the sink where his toiletries are lined up like soldiers by the mirror: toothbrush and toothpaste in a glass. His cologne. In the shower, there are shampoo and soap only.

No unfamiliar, feminine scents. No lingerie anywhere.

I’m so relieved I groan.

Half an hour later, I’m driving to Choice. I haven’t even called my mother to let her know I’m in town. I will, though, I tell myself. Once I’m done obsessing over meeting up with my boyfriend.

The baby stretches a languid foot against the steering wheel as I drive. It’s as if he too understands how I’m yearning for his father. The butterflies rustle in my chest since there isn’t room below for them to rummage.

Outside Choice, I feel stupid. What was I thinking getting here so late? If I’d come earlier, I would have stayed clear of lines. It’s Friday night—of course they’ll be busy! Briefly, I consider letting the bouncer know who I am. Then again, I want to be brave. See Leon’s first reaction when he realizes I’m here. I’m hoping it’s a good one. I’m also hoping I’ll catch his true feelings before he hides them, sweeping them away as fast as always.

I’m the only overly pregnant lady in this line. I get some side-glances, but that I’m used to from Smother. My baby sleeps well with the music booming around him. It’s what he knows, and I suspect the bass vibrating through the sounds where he rests are simply nice and familiar to him.

When it’s my turn, the bouncer looks up and frowns. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, just one, please,” I say. “Is the owner around?” I immediately regret asking. My heart double-bounces at the thought of him not being here. I’m starting to understand something about myself. I’m becoming possessive of this man. I’m… wanting to control him too. Not that I’d ever have a chance. I better get that thought out of my head fast.

The bouncer, who’s tall and meaty like our guys at Smother, says, “Ma’am?”

“Leon Stonewell. Is he home?” I joke.

“Sure, yes…” He’s wondering. Clearly people don’t inquire about Leon much in this town. I’m glad, because in Deepsilver, the ones who ask for Leon are either exes or girls in line to become broken-girls. Not my favorites.

“Thanks,” I reply, whip out the cover charge, and get my hand stamp.

I’m about to surprise my love. Against Katsu’s direct recommendations, I’m doing this. And praying that he’s happy to see me.

Crap.

Choice has a loyal, informal second-in-charge, and I’m going to use her for what she’s worth. The woman’s good looks and seductive mannerisms is all Ralph has appreciated in her so far, but over the last couple of days, I’ve pointed out her strengths to him.

“She’s a goddamn red-headed version of Marilyn Monroe,” Ralph tells me. “It’s damn near impossible to work around her!”

It’s not. The guy’s got to pull it together. He hired Kayla three months ago, and she’s already the most sought-after bartender both by male and female guests. She’s fast, makes clear-headed decisions effortlessly, and the staff comes to her with questions instead of looking for Ralph. The girl’s a natural.

“Boss,” she hums next to me, never turning off the sex she oozes. I understand Ralph—her mannerisms do make you wonder what kind of firecracker she’d be in bed. Not that I’d test her. I don’t do staff… usually.

“Tonight’s gonna be a tequila night. The group at the bar? Bachelor party for a football player. I know him—he’s tequila all the way. We might want to check if Adam can work. He’s a big guy with a calming effect on the rowdy ones.”

“Good idea, Kayla. Give him a ring, please,” I order.

Kayla knows how to use her voice. Now she’s all but whispering to me. “On it, boss.” Then, she juts a hip and sways over to the phone. It’s her insolent intimacy that makes my thoughts go to Arriane. I want to call her, but she’s probably elbow-deep in Smother business, terrorizing my staff with her pregnant whims and lack of management skills. Such a handful these days. I feel my lip curl in a smirk.

The Miller tap is leaking. A bartender, whose name I’ve yet to learn, runs for a screwdriver. The handle is about to fall over, and I’m not sure how this happened. I catch it last minute. Ralph is at the other end of the room chatting with a couple of girls, grinning and waving a dishrag.

“Sir, Adam wants a word,” Kayla purrs. “Do you mind?” She pushes the phone to my ear while I hold on to the tap. This is not good timing, but it’s my business.

“Yep,” I say.

“Sir, I’m Adam, one of your employees,” Adam informs me. Kayla leans against the bar top, closing in on me until she obliterates my personal space. With an elbow on my arm, she supports the wireless for me, pink lips pouted in a playful curve.

“I know. What’s up, Adam?” I look at Kayla: “Lower the phone against my shoulder. I’ll take it.”

“Oh, it’s no bother, boss.” She winks, getting comfortable between the counter and me.

On my ear, Adam buzzes, “Sir, I was wondering. My girlfriend is at my house, and I know it’s not policy to let people in for free but we’re both broke. I was going to have a night off with her. Then, Choice needs me, right, and…” Adam stumbles through his plea, not getting to the actual question. The rule he alludes to is news to me, another thing to discuss with Adam.

“Of course. Bring your girl. Once you’re at the door, have the bouncer buzz me, and I’ll clear you. She’ll get free access and two drinks on the house.” I nod to Kayla, who gives me a chipper bob back, acknowledging my order.

My man with the screwdriver finally returns. The beer keeps trickling through my fingers, and Kayla bunches up dishtowels to soak it up on the counter in front of me. Yep. Personal space is not one of her fortes.

Despite the line clamoring for alcohol, somebody’s full attention draws me from beyond the crowd. I lift to stare, and it takes me three seconds to find her behind the row of wiggling partiers. I squint, trying to decide if I’m right.

I am.

Man. It’s the strangest sensation. Her face is so unexpected in here. So fucking gorgeous. Eyes wide and wondering, she slides from looking at me to Kayla. “Hold, please,” I tell Kayla. She’s quick to reach for the tap, and I take the needed steps out on the floor.

Arria hasn’t moved, but her arms cross over her boobs, and I’m mad because she must have come by car. If she’s here alone, she’s in trouble. That’s some serious mileage—anything could have happened! She needs to be in my arms and fast.

A customer back-steps. It’s only ten p.m., but he’s drunk enough to lose balance and almost step on her toes. I launch forward and grab her, haul her out of the way. “What are you doing here?”

“No, what are
you
doing here?” she shouts back.

Oh, right. This is about Kayla.

“Working, baby.” I drag my fingers through her long, thick, silky hair and clench them tight to absorb the texture. “Kayla’s like that.”

Violet eyes find Kayla in a stone-hard stare. “She’s all over you nonstop, you’re saying?”

“No, I don’t let her.” I shoot Kayla a glance too. Now, she’s helping her colleague, one hand on his hip and with a chin on his shoulder as she holds the tap for him. “I didn’t have time to be squeamish. The tap was literally falling off, Arriane. I did consider barking out a ‘Stop touching me,’ though.” I smirk.

“Oh!” says my moody, pregnant girl with the huge, gorgeous, mad eyes. She shoves my hands off her and strides past the crowd to the bar. She enters, causing Screwdriver Bartender to look up, surprised. I see a “hey” on his mouth at a customer breaching their work sphere behind the counter.

I’m close behind. Damn, she’s cute when she’s jealous. Fucking adorable.

“Kayla?” she says to Kayla.

“Yes, can I help you?” Kayla is polite with her customers as always.

“Don’t ever put your paws on my man again.”

I jump in before more damage ensues. “Guys, this is my girlfriend, Arriane. She’s visiting from Deepsilver.” The grin sits loose on my face. It’s hard to subdue.

“Goodness!” Kayla beams. With a last rotation of the screwdriver, the other bartender finishes up the little re-installation of the beer tap, and Kayla’s free to greet Arriane. “You’re so pregnant! Ah, what are you having?” She’s truly happy for us, and Arriane’s fury instantly shrinks.

“A boy.” She isn’t smiling yet, but when Kayla sneaks an arm around her midsection and body-hugs her like they’re best friends—or lovers—Arria sends me a wary look.

“Told you,” I mouth.

“Jeez,” she mumbles.

Leon wasted no time getting me out of Choice. At eleven p.m. we’re already in bed. The cheap motel surroundings mean nothing when Leon’s touch glides over my stomach and he chuckles at the baby sidestepping his hands. My sweetheart is relaxed. Happy.

Deepsilver, Katsu, his father: it’s far away from us here.

A small bedside lamp is all that’s lit, casting him in a low light while his hand travels up, over my breast, stopping to knead it once before reaching my lips. I meet eyes that glitter dark. They sink to my mouth, watching his index finger press in. Instinctively, I open to allow him access. A quiet sigh emits from him as I roll my tongue around the digit, suckling.

“Why did you come, baby?” he whispers. “I’m working, you know.”

“Because you missed me,” I make out, the words slurred from his finger. “You need time off too. It can’t be all work.”

We aren’t broaching our issues. He doesn’t say that he gave me space to slacken our relationship, that he’s trying to make it dissipate. I don’t tell him that I’ve come to my own conclusion in regard to our future, how I’m here to fight for it.

But Rome wasn’t built in one day. Tonight is not about misaligned goals.

Leon skims down to my thigh, caresses it with a flat palm, gripping around and bending it to a side. Sure fingers touch and discover me like he doesn’t already have every inch of me memorized. Warm, alive, present, he cups me there, holding me still while his mouth goes to mine.

Leon is here with me. He’s not lost to anger, not using me as a catalyst. I tear up through his kiss. I’m propped against fluffy pillows, and the liquid trickles down my temples. My heart doesn’t listen to me—it does its own thing, scampering off with the fear of needing him forever.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

His face, his lips. Leon is so much, so intense. All that he struggles with—right now he isn’t hiding. His demons are dormant, but I know they’re still with us.

Then, there’s the baby. The being a good mother. Doing the right thing. What the fuck is the right thing!

Close, deep, Leon presses inside of me, causing my channel to clamp around him on instinct. My nipples are hard nubs, and I lift my knees, letting him roll my butt up so he can go deeper. My stomach is in the way, but we make it work, oh, yes we do. Because nothing matters as long as he’s buried deep.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers, relishing us too. I move with him, barely, but more than enough. He responds, fulfilling my need for him. For this moment, my worries leave me be. He’s everything there is right now. It’s just us, just pleasure, just—

Ecstasy.

I wake up with my love sideways behind me. The room is pitch black, the night still a living thing, but he needs us again. A hushed puff bursts against my cheek as he nibbles. He’s got a hand wedged beneath me, forming around my boobs and pressing me to him so we’re skin to skin.

“More?” I ask unnecessarily. He’s already rock hard and sliding in the slick sensation he left behind last night.

He shoves in fast, making me cry out. “You feel that?” my sweetie asks.

“Yes.” I arch my back against him. He’s holding me tight, demanding and taking in short, hard, rocking moves.

“Get up,” he hisses, desire overruling consideration for me, and it’s so hot, I’m burning for more. “All fours.”

I barely have time to obey before he slams into me. I squeal, the sensation so exquisite I sink to my elbows. He encourages it, puts a hand on my back and presses down. With the other, he grabs a hip, raising me so he has better access. “You’re my heaven, Arria,” he huffs out. “My. Fucking. Heaven.”

He leans over me, blanketing me with muscle and warm skin while he fucks me. Gathering my breasts in both hands.

I’m losing control.

“Mmm.” My Leon nuzzles in beneath my ear, rumbling against me. “I feel you. Don’t hold back.”

His words make me tighten faster, and suddenly I’m there. I’m weak and whimpering around him as he pulls out so only the head teases me before he shoves back inside as hard as he can. The bed rocks to the wall, rhythmic, loud in the darkness, my hushed cries spouting on each, merciless thrust.