Chapter Eight
Sara’s been quiet since they left the gallery.
When she gets back to the suite she takes a seat on the couch, still clad in her leather jacket, her eyes fixed on the L.A.
skyline. Leon decides to give her a little space; he knows that vulnerability comes with a cost. It can leave you feeling wrung out, emotional.
He retreats to the bedroom, rubbing his palm over the top of his head before he removes his suit jacket and places it over the back of one of the chairs.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, and he thinks about what he’s heard tonight, what he’s seen. Her story, her photographs, it gives him insight into her as a person and the truth is, it only makes him love her more.
His girl is brave, strong, fierce.
She’s conquered some horrible shit, but she’s still made a life for herself, a career. He’s seen it go the other way, he knows plenty of addicts who’ve survived the foster system only to end up at the bottom of a bottle or jabbing a needle into their arm. That’s not her, he doubts it ever will be.
He looks up when she steps into the room, she has that wildness in her eyes, the one she had when he first met her back in the Lodge in Lake Tahoe.
Her leather jacket falls to the floor, landing in a pile by her feet before she unzips her dress, stepping out of it.
She slides into his lap clad in pretty black lace and his hands come to rest on her hips, holding her steady.
Her palms smooth over the planes of his chest, playing over his tattoos through the fabric of his shirt.
“Keep it on,” she murmurs, her gaze lowering as she studies the outline of his ink through the material. “I want to fuck you in this suit.”
She reaches between the both of them, her palm stroking over his cock as she seeks out the clasp of his trousers.
His hand encloses on her wrist, drawing it away because he doesn’t want it like this.
He knows what she’s doing. She craves the intimacy of connection, but she wants the distance because being with someone who knows you, who truly knows you - its terrifying.
The two of them are at a turning point. If he lets this continue, he becomes just another guy she fucks when she lands in his airspace. He doesn’t want that, not with her.
“Sara,” he says her name softly. “Sara, look at me.”
His fingertips grace the line of her jaw, tipping up her chin so that her gaze meets his.
“Don’t do this to me,” he whispers against her lips, his voice raw with emotion. “Don’t fuck me like I’m a stranger, fuck me like I’m your man, the one you aren’t going to see for a while.”
He leaves tomorrow for his meeting with King in Pinehurst and she’ll be flying out to Barcelona. It is what it is, a relationship forged within snatches of time. It doesn’t make it any less meaningful, he treasures each and every moment he has with her and the spaces in-between.
They make love that night, because this thing between the two of them is love.
It may be too soon for either one of them to say it, but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel it in his heart.
For the first time in his life there is someone who knows him completely, who accepts him, and it changes everything.
His hands thread through her hair, drawing her mouth back to his as she climaxes.
He drinks down her pleasure as the euphoria erupts through her nerve endings, drowning out the noise in her head until the only thing she can focus on is him and only him.
“Leon…” she whispers, the words on the tip of her tongue as he looks up at her with those gorgeous dark eyes of his.
“I know Mami,” he says before he kisses her again. “I know.”