Chapter 38
38
brIAR
L eo lashing out is expected. What’s not expected is the hurt I feel.
I wanted this. I wanted the pain. I wanted the angst. I wanted to be yelled at. I wanted to be discarded.
But this pain isn’t as familiar as I thought it would be.
This pain fucking sucks.
“You okay mom?” Elara says, standing at my door. I’ve been spending more and more time in bed, when I should be spending more time with my daughter. Having Leo home all the time isn’t something I enjoy. If he wasn’t hurt, and we were getting along then sure, it would maybe be fun having him around. He would hang out with Elara and take Champ for walks, and I would do anything he needed done.
We would show the world that we were dating, and on some level, we would both almost believe it ourselves.
But that’s the thing about fake things. At some point, you talk yourself into believing that they’re real. The closeness starts to feel a little too much like home, and then, one day, it’s over. It’s done, and you’re left with nothing.
Absolutely fucking nothing .
“I’m okay Bub, thank you.”
“Do you want to go for a walk?” She looks at me with hope in her pretty brown eyes, her hands twisting her shirt in front of her.
I debate saying no.
“Yeah, that sounds really nice Bub. I’ll be ready in about five minutes, okay?”
She smiles, nodding enthusiastically before running back to her room.
It’s been four weeks since Leo’s injury.
The team has won three games since that day with the help of Dirwin, who’s been an absolute ace.
Leo always said that he was surprised that Dirwin was a backup. He could throw better than half the quarterbacks in the league, and although Leo has begrudgingly watched the games from his TV upstairs, I know that he’s happy to watch his friend succeed.
His attitude hasn’t gotten much better, but I’ve adjusted to it. At some point you learn to take things less seriously.
It’s about a week until Christmas now, and we still don’t have any real plans. Leo thought his parents were going to fly in, but there was apparently some emergency involving a cow and they couldn’t. That, reasonably, pissed him off a little more than well, everything else.
As for me, I’m just trying to get through my days without passing out.
“Where’s my pills?” Leo calls from the kitchen. He was put in a boot a couple days ago, and although he was told he could put some weight on it, he’s been a little too generous when it comes to the amount of time he’s been spending walking around. Hopefully in about four more weeks, he’ll be okay to start a more vigorous physical therapy routine.
Anything to get him in better spirits, because this version of Leo is a brat.
“In the usual drawer,” I call over to him as I sit on the couch with my laptop, going over my new recipes I came up with for my cookbook.
“I looked there,” he snaps, setting his cup down loudly.
I turn, watching him rip through other drawers. “Are you okay?” I ask, my eyebrow arched.
“I just need shit to be where they’re supposed to fucking be,” he hisses angrily, smacking the counter.
I flinch, and a look of regret flashes in his eyes, but he doesn’t say sorry.
“Okay,” I say as I get up, closing my computer and heading to my room.
Elara is at school, and I’ve been trying to get as much work done on my cookbook as I can during the day. That means recipe testing, photographing, and coming up with the perfect thing to say about each. Formatting a cookbook is also super hard, and it’s taken a lot out of me.
I miss when Leo was sequestered upstairs. It was peaceful down here, at the very least.
“Briar!” he calls out, but I’m not having it.
Safe in my room, I sit on my bed, thinking about what the next steps are. I can’t be here forever. Leo is clearly spiraling, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
There’s nothing anyone can do about it. Owen has come over numerous times, but Leo has seemingly regressed and is holding a grudge against him for what happened with Isla again.
I know he doesn’t really care anymore. I know this.
God, he’s so fucking insufferable.
A knock on my door snaps me out of my thoughts, but I don’t answer, not that that stops him from peeking in.
“I need to talk to you,” Leo says, his face hard.
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t have anything to say myself.” He opens the door wider, standing in the entrance with his arms crossed over his chest, his baseball hat turned backward on his head.
If he weren’t acting like such a fucking asshole I’d think he was hot like this. If he looked like this a month ago, I may have even let my guard down.
“Leo, I don’t need this.”
“I’m not trying to be a dick, I’m just trying to let you know that I think I can get someone else in here to help me in about two weeks.”
I look around, shocked. “You’re kicking me out.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“You know,” I chuckle. “I really thought you changed.”
He shrugs.
“Fuck you, Leo,” I hiss with as much venom as I can possibly muster. And I mean it.
“It’s not good for you here anymore, Briar. You need to go somewhere that’s better for you.”
“Because you know what’s best for me?”
Nothing.
“How are those therapy appointments coming, Leo?” I ask, tilting my head. Sitting on the side of my bed, I cross my legs, resting my palms on my knee.
“I haven’t been in a few weeks, why?”
“Because it’s really fucking obvious you haven’t been. Before subjecting anyone else to this bullshit, you may want to go.”
“I don’t need?—”
“Leo, if there is quite literally anyone on this goddamn planet who needs to go to therapy it’s you. Don’t you understand that? Instead, you feel better spiraling out of fucking control, and why? Because losing your absolute shit is the only thing you can control at the moment? You can’t control the team. You can’t control what happened to you. You can’t control me, so you’d rather push me away. You’d rather push everyone who gives a single fuck about you away because it’s the only fucking way you can control a god damn thing. And years from now, when you look back on this, you’re going to realize that you fucked up. That you threw away something good because you were too in your poor feelings to understand how you were hurting other people for a quick break from self-pity.”
“You don’t care about me, Briar.”
“Since when have I ever shown you that I don’t care about you, Leo?”
He throws his hands up angrily, his nose fairing. “You made it clear to me months ago! And the day before Thanksgiving, Briar. You’ve made it clear numerous times that you only see this as a business transaction. So I’m letting you go. You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain. You don’t have to deal with me anymore, okay? You can go off and do whatever the fuck you want to do on your own, without me, and you can date people you actually like.”
I pause, biting my cheek so hard the taste of copper floods my mouth. “Do you know that I’ve never felt anything close to what I felt for you back then?” I ask him steadily.
He pauses, his face red.
“I wanted you more than anything, Leo. But, this is fake. A pressure cooker of bad decisions. You’re you. I’m me. We’re so fucking different, and yet we’re both just desperate for someone to give us attention with no one else but the other here. The difference is, I have a daughter who looks up to you. A daughter who adores you. I have two hearts to care about. And while mine can maybe heal after you’re done with us, hers won’t. Because not only does her sperm donor not want her, but the only other man she’s looked up to doesn’t either.”
His face softens for a moment. “I loved you, you know that?” he says quietly.
And I freeze.
“Don’t do this, Leo.”
“I did.”
“And you don’t now.” It’s not a question.
He just looks at me. Doesn’t confirm nor deny.
“Get out,” I tell him, about to get up and slam the door in his stupid fucking face.
“Briar—”
“No.”
Making my way to the door, I attempt to close it, but he blocks me. “Briar please.”
“I don’t want to speak to you. I’ll be gone the second I can.”
“Briar wait!” his voice thunders through the room, and I flinch back a touch before collecting myself.
His face is inches from mine, his eyes wild. “I want to love you for the rest of my life.”
“I—”
“I want to love you for the rest of my life, Briar.”
“Then why are you pushing me away?”
“Because you were pushing me away first.” His face falls, pain flooding his eyes. “I’ve lost everything, Briar.”
I shake my head. “You haven’t lost everything. You’ve lost a small portion of time. An insignificant amount of time really, Leo. The end of a football season. Not two, not three. You’ve lost two months of football. Two.”
“I was losing you.”
“No, no you weren’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
As I watch his green eyes peer through me, I know that he means it. For once, he means something he’s saying .
Just because he’s gone into crisis mode and decided that the one thing he can control is pushing people away, doesn’t mean that I have to put up with it. It doesn’t mean that I deserve it, and it sure as hell doesn’t mean that I have to forgive him.
Breaking eye contact, I back away, turning and heading to the chair at the very far side of the room. Sitting, I rest my elbow on the armrest, perching my head on my fist.
My head knows that I’m going to regret what I do next. I know it.
But my heart needs it more than it needs blood.
“Get on your hands and knees,” I demand, my voice monotone.
“Excuse me?” he says, his face twisting in confusion.
“I said, get on your hands and knees, Leo.”
He breathes deeply, looking around the room before he does as he’s told. The big guy falls to his knees, the floor shaking slightly as he does. It’s hard for him with the boot, but he manages.
When he drops to his hands, his eyes flash to mine, his lips a thin line.
And I smirk. “Now crawl to me.”
Without a word, Leo does as he’s told. A part of me had hoped he’d argue. Hoped he’d say no, get up, and leave.
Part of me hoped that him making the decision not to would be the final nail in the coffin for us.
And yet it’s not. Instead, Leo makes his way across the large room, his eyes never wavering from mine as he does. The only sounds I hear are my own heartbeat thundering in my chest and the quiet scraping of his boot across the hardwood floors.
When he reaches me, he doesn’t bother to ask what I want. Instead, he kneels in front of me, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he places his hands between my legs, spreading them open before trailing his fingers up my outer thigh, leaving fire in their wake, before he reaches the top of my pajama shorts. Tucking his fingers into the top of them, his eyes darken as he pulls them down.
At first, I don’t budge.
“Lift your hips before I lift them for you,” he whispers.
And I do.
And when he pulls the bottoms off me, he captures my leg, running his tongue along my shin before hooking my calf around his neck. With one fluid movement, Leo lifts me enough to get me to the very edge of the chair, my center completely bare to him.
“Fuck,” he whispers, nipping at my inner thigh as his lips make their way closer and closer to my core.
The closer he gets, the harder his nips are, and at the top of my thigh, he bites. Hard. When I let out a loud moan, his tongue flickers over the same spot, easing the pain.
He looks up at me, his backward hat keeping his scruffy hair out of his eyes.
His expression is hungry, as if he hasn’t eaten in days and now’s his chance. He licks his lips, the act looking like pure sin.
I press my lips together, trying my best to stay tough. To show him who’s in control here. And although it started out with me on top, I know the second I see that twinkle in his eye that it’s not staying like that for long.
“You said no one has been able to make you come, right Sunny?” he asks, and my nickname on his lips makes a shot of desire hit me, my toes curling.
“I’m not sure that’s going to change today,” I taunt.
With a smirk, Leo’s lips meet my clit, and the most intense, beautiful sensation takes me over.
The truth is, no one has ever gone down on me before.
While his large hands grip my waist, holding me in place, I rope my other leg over his other shoulder, angling myself better for him, pleasure and the hottest feeling of desire ripping through me already as my eyes roll back into my head. I buck my hips, rolling them from left to right to see what feels the best as his tongue flickers over me.
My clit, already swollen, screams for him as his mouth clamps over it, sucking it into his mouth as I let out a loud moan, my hands reaching for my breasts.
Hiking up my shirt, my fingers capture my nipples between them, rolling them gently as Leo watches from below, his tongue massaging me.
And when he moans, I almost come undone.
“God dammit, Leo,” I moan, biting my lip and throwing my head back.
Reaching for him, I throw his hat to the ground. For as hot as it is, I need something different right now.
Burying my fingers in his hair, I grip it at his scalp, pushing his face into me while pulling his hair at the same time. His eyes close as he devours me, and I can feel the buildup within me.
The thing about sex is that it’s a game of control. Due to power dynamics, it’s almost always been the men. We see it from the moment we’re exposed to it. It’s the men demanding we get on our knees. The men who grip our hair while slamming their cocks down our throats. The men who grip our faces as they release all over us for their pleasure.
And honestly? I want that. I do.
But having this power over a man, no matter how small, feels like a win. Especially a man like Leo.
I can feel my pulse thrum throughout my entire body, and for once in my life I find myself unable to think about anything else other than the man looking up at me as he moans into my pussy, seemingly feeling as much pleasure as I feel simply from eating me out.
Leo’s fingers dig into me as I push him harder and harder into me, and when he growls into me, I lose control.
Thrashing in the chair, my legs tighten around his head, and even when I’m ready to tap out, Leo’s lips clamp onto me harder, rolling over my clit as it pulses with pleasure. It rips through me violently, and I find myself unable to help the scream that comes out of me as my fingers tighten in Leo’s hair.
The ecstasy I feel is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Because sure, no man has ever made me come. But I’ve been able to make myself finish. But no vibrator has ever left me feeling like this.
It feels like ten minutes before my body settles down, the heavy thumping in my chest subsiding.
With a deep breath, I open my eyes, finding Leo in front of me, his lips shiny with my release, and I watch him lick them clean as he watches me.
“I, um, do you want me to return the favor?” I ask, surprisingly excited about the prospect.
Leo purses his lips before shaking his head. “Not right now, Sunny. Right now is all about you.”
“Apparently,” I breathe out.
“Was that real?” he asks, leveling me with his intense stare.
My brows furrow. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“You said you’ve never come before. I want to make sure I actually made you come, Briar. You deserve it. I don’t want you faking it with me.”
My face grows hot. “It was real,” I tell him, almost embarrassed at being called out. I used to fake it all the time with Tony.
I got really good at making it look real, not that he cared. Not that he waited for it.
“If I don’t do my job, you tell me and I’ll try harder. You understand?”
I nod.
“Good. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of our day, Sunny. You’re in charge. ”
I think about it for a moment, my brain still in a haze. “I think I just want you to hold me and watch a movie,” I tell him finally.
He nods, getting to his feet. Shifting uncomfortably, he winces. “I’ll be right back Sunny, I’m just going to change.”
And he’s off.