Blindsided (35 page)

She shudders when I kiss her thigh and pushes her hips up. I flatten my hand on her stomach to keep her hips against the bed and kiss her. Just barely. A sharp gasp meets my ears, and I smile. I love knowing I can do this to her when I’ve barely touched her. I haven’t truly started yet and she’s already wet enough to take me without blinking.

My mouth hovers above her and I blow on her tender skin. Then I drop my mouth, and I run my tongue all along her pussy in one smooth, long stroke.
Fuck. Fu-u-uck.
Her taste fills my mouth, driving me to taste her more, to tease her and please her and make her come.

Leah fights my holding her down, and when the tip of my tongue finds her swollen clit, I push down as I tease it. Her back arches as I work her, gaining speed then stopping to explore the rest of her.

The taste of her is all over my tongue and I love every second of it. She really does taste like perfection—sweet and addictive and fresh. I’d do this all day, every fucking day, if it meant I’d hear the breathy cries leaving her mouth right now, if I meant I got to taste her.

I glance up when the sheet moves. Her fingers are gripping it tightly, her head thrown back, sweat glistening on her damp skin. I’m done fucking around. I want to see the look on her face when she really comes apart from just my mouth.

Her legs tense and a shudder wracks her body as I push hard on her clit, rubbing and teasing. I keep my eyes on her face until she throws her head back, crying out, and gives herself over to her orgasm. I run my tongue along her pussy again as she comes, taking every last bit of her before kissing my way back up her body again.

I grab a condom from the nightstand and roll it on. Leah reaches between us and rubs her thumb over the head of it, and fuck, I wish there weren’t a layer of rubber between us.

“You need to fuck me now,” she whispers roughly, her voice shaky.

I laugh huskily, bringing her mouth up to mine. “No, I’m not going to fuck you, Leah.” I lower my body to hers, my cock touching her pussy. “I’m going to make love to you. I’m going to sink myself inside your swollen, wet pussy and make love to you so slowly and deeply that you’ll be begging me to fuck you and make you come. But I won’t.” I push into her, her muscles clenching around me, and roll us onto our sides with her leg hooked over mine. “I’ll keep making love to you just like this until you come, and I don’t care how it long it takes. I don’t care if I’m inside you until tomorrow morning.”

She digs her fingers into my back as I start my slow assault of her. “Why?”

“Because.” I wrap my arms around her so every part of our bodies is touching. “You’re a beautiful woman who deserves to be loved in the purest and rawest way. No frills, no sugarcoating, no bullshit. This is my way of doing that.”

She slams her mouth against mine and cups my neck. Her hand comes between us and stops me going back inside her.

“You’re clean, right?” she whispers.

“Always.”

“Take it off.” She positions her hand at the base of my cock as if she’s asking permission.

“Take it.”

She rolls her hand down my cock, removing what I just put on, and guides me back to her opening. I ease into her, her wetness so much realer than before. Her pussy really is hot and tight, and it clings to me mercilessly as I rock my hips against her slowly.

She feels more amazing than I ever thought. Being inside her with nothing separating us is exactly the way this should be. Fuck knows I’ve fought long enough to be this close to her, to have her here, so there’s no space for a condom to be between us.

“I
have something to tell you,” Mom says, strolling into the room.

I blink at her from my laptop. “You’re renting my room out?”

“No.” She laughs. “Although, are you planning on spending any time there anytime soon?”

“Couple of days. I only agreed to stay at Corey’s for a week.” I go back to Facebook.

She puts her purse on the table and looks at me. “Don’t you want to know what my surprise is?”

“No offense, Mom, but your surprises don’t have a track record of being good.”

“My last surprise got you a boyfriend.”

“With a whole bunch of bullshit attached to it,” I say pointedly.

It’s been two days since Corey’s surprise pictures were leaked online and his dad reminded me of how ruthless the media can be. And are. Of how they’ll dig until they have something good on me, too.

“You’ll get past it,” Mom reassures me.

“I’ve had periods longer than our relationship. You’re awfully confident.”

“Sounds like I believe more in you and Corey than you do.”

“Probably.” I sigh at her raised eyebrows. Shutting the laptop, I say, “It’s not that I don’t believe in him, okay? It’s just that the whole reason I stayed away from him was because of this very thing happening, and the only reason I stopped staying away from him is because I thought that was how I could get him to stay away from me.”

Mom blinks. “That’s a lot of staying away, honey. But it sounds like you don’t know what you want.”

“I want Corey, okay? I didn’t, but now, I do, but I don’t know if I can have him. Which isn’t fair at all.” I swallow and look at the table. “Why does nothing ever work out like it’s supposed to?”

“Because that’s life, Lele.” Mom comes around the table and strokes her hand over my hair. “But I know one thing that’s worked out right.”

“Which is?”

She slides an envelope in front of me wordlessly.

“What is this?” I pick it up and flip it over. The QD logo is embossed onto the flap, and I tear it open. “Are you serious?” I shriek, pulling two tickets out of it. One has her name. The other has mine.

The show?

Mine.

“I spoke to Quinn,” she explains excitedly. “You can’t be backstage, sure, but why can’t you be in the front row with me? You’ve been there before. It won’t be suspicious at all!”

“Are you serious?” I repeat. My hand is shaking, and fuck, my heart is pounding, but I don’t want to believe it because this can’t be real.

“Deadly serious, honey. I’m not going to let you miss your own show!”

I drop the tickets and hug her tight. My eyes are stinging with tears, ones that are full of hope and happiness, because I can see my dream after all. And it doesn’t matter that I can’t be backstage fiddling with clothing and other things.

It just matters that I’ll see my designs. On a runway. On real people.

In five days.

You know your relationship is about as serious as it gets when you’re bundled into a car at nine in the morning with two suitcases and no idea where the hell you’re going.

I eye Corey as he drives out of Los Angeles. A smile has been teasing his lips all morning, and I knew the second I woke up that he was up to something. It was obvious when he didn’t get ready for practice like he should have.

Hell, it was more than obvious the second his morning glory wasn’t followed up by an attempt to get inside my underwear. I actually thought he was sick until I saw a playful, secretive spark in his eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

“Of course you do.”

I smack his arm. “Tell me. Please.”

He shakes his head. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

I narrow my eyes. “I did. Then you threw me in here.”

“I don’t throw you anywhere, babe. Except maybe into bed, but that’s totally acceptable.”

So he has a point there... “Fine. You coaxed me into it.”

“Actually, there was no coaxing involved. You really want to know where we’re driving to?”

“Yes.”

“Long Beach.”

Two suitcases for Long Beach?

“Why are we at Long Beach?” I get out of the car and look at the building in front of us. “At a fucking helipad?”

Corey just smirks at me and pulls the suitcases from the trunk. “I said to trust me.”

Trust you my ass.
“Are we flying? ‘Cause you should really warn a girl if you’re gonna send her into the air.”

“Relax, Leah. It’s not like I’m flying you to London. It’s only fifteen minutes.”

I eye him and follow him toward a waiting helicopter. I’ve only ever been in a helicopter once, and I can absolutely say that I prefer a plane. Helicopters are kinda…rocky.

“Can you just focus on the whole ‘taking you away for the night’ instead of where we’re going?” Corey murmurs in amusement when we’re inside.

“Yeah, I’m still trying to connect Asshole Corey with Night Away Corey,” I tease him. “You’ve been really nice lately—if you ignore the chocolate thing—so we’ll have to come back to this when I’ve got you figured out.”

He laughs as we put on the headsets and strap ourselves in. Actually, I can’t do up my belt, so he does it for me.

“Good luck with that.” He takes my hand in his.

The helicopter lifts off the ground and I chew my thumbnail, looking hesitantly out the window. “Now can you tell me where we’re going?”

He shakes his head, a smile teasing his lips, and looks out of the window.

Bastard.

I’ve heard of Catalina Island, but surprisingly, I’ve never been. Great-Aunt Ada swears by it as the perfect mini retreat to escape the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, but I’ve never needed to escape it. Until now.

This tiny island is a small slice of beauty just off the coast of insanity. From the golden beach to the pier stretching out and the brightly colored houses, it’s incredible. There are no reporters, no photographers, no people trying to figure out how we feel about the change in both of our lives.