Chapter 42
chapter forty-two
LEO
When I pull my car into the drive, relief nearly sends me driving through the garage door, because Marisol is sitting on the step by the front door.
She stands up as I turn the engine off, and by the time I step out of the car and kick the door shut, she’s jumping into my arms.
A wide smile takes over my face as I wrap my arms around her, breathing her in. You’d think it’s been more than a day since we saw each other last, but I think we’re just that addicted to each other.
“Hi,” she says, and I can hear the smile she’s wearing in her voice.
“Hey, covergirl.” I don’t let her go; we just stay here, wrapped up in each other like we can stop time simply by never letting go.
Because once time starts moving again, she’ll tell me about her night and what Chiara wanted to talk to her about, and part of me doesn’t want to know when she’s leaving again.
She wriggles, slipping down the front of my body until she’s got her feet on the ground again. “How was the class?” she asks.
“It was good,” I say. “How long have you been sitting out here?”
She shakes her head. “Not long.”
“Coffee?”
She places her palms together. “Please.”
“Come on,” I laugh as I lead her to the front door, unlocking it and slipping my shoes off. She does the same before finding her favorite spot on the couch as I head into the kitchen.
“You going to elaborate on good?” she asks, and I smirk when I find her watching me expectantly.
“It was…fun,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I shrug it off. “There was a good turnout, and everyone wanted to be there, you know?” She smiles at me as she listens, her chin resting on her arms that are folded over the back of the couch.
“Like there I am, standing up there with Luna, and everyone is waiting for me to tell them what to do.” I laugh.
“It was weird, but it was really good, baby. It felt good to use what I know for reasons other than why I know them.”
“I can imagine,” she says as I turn to pour her a coffee. It’s quiet for a moment, and I can feel her eyes on me like she’s enjoying just watching me exist.
“How about you?” I finally ask, stirring in the creamer she likes. “How was last night?”
She blows out a breath and turns away from me as I walk around the couch with her coffee, then thanks me as I hand her the warm mug and sit down beside her.
“Was Chiara’s chat not something good?” I ask, worried about why she seems so apprehensive.
“No,” she says. “I mean, it was amazing.” I must be fucked up, because while I’m happy for her, I’m also disappointed. Good things for her career mean bad things for me. “She offered me a spot in a huge campaign in three weeks.”
Three weeks. That means I have time before she goes. Time to tell her how much she means to me, because while she’s been gone, there’s been one word that keeps floating around in my head. “That’s exciting,” I say, sliding my hand over her knee for emphasis.
“It’s a month-long trip away.”
Not so exciting.
A month?
“I know,” she says, and my face must have conveyed my surprise. “It’s a long time.”
A month without her. Men used to go to war with only a photo in their pockets of their wives, and they didn’t even know if they’d see each other again. I can do a month.
“It’s okay,” I say, hoping I sound earnest because I am. I want her to do this. It sounds like an amazing opportunity, the thing she’s been working toward for so long now. This is her moment.
“I’m thinking about it,” she says.
My brows twitch. “Why?”
Her head falls to one side, her entire expression downturned. “A month is a long time,” she says. “One single night felt like too long.”
I smile, taking her coffee cup from her grip and placing it on the small table. “It did,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “But this is what you’ve been working for, isn’t it?”
She looks at me, her eyes roaming all over my face before they meet mine again. “Yeah…it is.”
“Then we can make a month work,” I say, leaning forward and bringing her lips to mine with a hand behind her head. She melts into my touch before pulling away.
“I need to shower,” she groans.
“Okay,” I chuckle. “Go.”
She takes another sip of her coffee and kisses me on the forehead before she heads down the hall. I pull out my phone to see a message from May.
May: Was Rafael playing nice on that walk? He said he was, but his version of nice and my version of nice are two different things.
I smile down at my screen as I type out my response, the faint sound of the water running floating up the hall.
Me: He played your kind of nice.
Me: He can’t keep up the tough guy act now that he’s a father. He’s all mushy inside.
May: Trust me. There’s still hard parts.
I snort at the insinuation, whether she meant it or not.
Me: Oh, I’m sure.
Me: How are you going? Feeding getting any easier?
May: It’s on and off, but we’ll get there.
I think I hear my name float through the room, and I look up, as if expecting a ghost to be standing ahead of me. But then I hear it again and realize it’s Marisol, from the shower.
I drop my phone on the couch and head down the hall, poking my head through the bathroom door. “Yeah?”
“Could you pass me my shampoo? I left it in my toiletries bag.”
“Yeah,” I say, stepping into the steamy room. God, it’s like a sauna in here. I unzip her toiletry bag and search for the shampoo amongst everything else.
I find the pink bottle and pull it out, opening the shower door just enough to pass it in. Marisol grabs it, but then she pushes the door all the way open, leaving me staring at her naked, glistening body. “Wash my body?”
I stand there like an idiot, and Marisol’s smile grows with every second I spend staring at her.
She reaches out, pulling on my shirt and yanking me into the shower.
I gasp when the water hits my clothes, and Marisol looks up at me hungrily as she pushes my shirt up my chest. I rip it off, my pants following, and Marisol giggles as they splash against the ground.
She looks me over, her hand finding my cock in seconds, and I have to fight myself to pull away.
She grumbles as I turn my back to her, finding the bar of soap that sits on the small shelf and lathering it between my palms. Marisol’s hands slide up and down my back, her hands exploring every inch of my body.
“I missed you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to my back, and I have to stop myself from asking her to never leave again.
She squeezes my ass with a small giggle, and I’m smiling when I turn back around, my hands covered in suds. “Turn around, baby.” She does as I ask, and boy, do I love that.
I step forward, my hard cock fitting perfectly between her two cheeks as I pull her against me, my arms sneaking beneath hers, and my hands gliding over her stomach.
She leans her head back on my chest, and I bring my lips down to her neck as I slide my hands up and over her tits, working the soap into her skin. Her lips part as my finger dances around her nipple.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say, and then my hands move down her body, one of them finding a home at her waist and the other dipping between her legs.
Her mouth falls open, and she slides her hand up the back of my neck, tugging on my hair.
“So pretty like this, baby.”
She groans in response.
I nudge my hips, my cock sliding down the seam of her ass, and she arches her back, her pleasure building with every breath she takes.
My fingers stroke up and down her pussy, the soap easing my movements as she moans, her voice echoing off the walls around us.
In this moment, it feels like we are the only two people in the entire world.
My entire universe, boiling down to this.
“Say you’re mine,” I grit out, my possessive streak coming through.
She moans again but doesn’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” She turns around, one of her dainty hands wrapping around my cock. “And you’re mine, Leo Romano.”
“Yeah, covergirl,” I say, walking her back until her back hits the tiles. “I’ve been yours.” She glides the tip of my cock up her center, and I brace my forearm on the tile behind her, my breath coming out in a shudder.
“Please,” she whimpers. “I need you.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I use my hand on her hip to spin her around, and she gasps when I palm her perfect ass. She pushes her hips back, and I slide my fingers between her legs. “You want my cock, baby?”
“Yes,” she moans, her fingers clawing at the tiles. I smile, one hand climbing up her back as I use the other to guide myself into her.
“Fuck,” both of us curse as she takes me all the way in, pressing her hips back to take every single inch of me.
I slowly pull back, and the water creates extra friction between us, her pussy gripping me tight. She moans as I push back into her, her arousal easing the movement. My eyes roll back in my head as we find our rhythm, my hands curling around her hips.
“Fuck,” I groan as she matches me stroke for stroke, pushing back as I thrust forward. We don’t waste time going slow, and the sound of our skin slapping together floods the room. “You take me so well, covergirl,” I say. “Like you were fucking made for me.”
“God, Leo,” she whimpers as she rests her head on one of her arms that is pressing her back from the wall. The sound of my name on her lips has pressure building at the base of my spine, my breath turning ragged.
Our movements become frantic, all rhythm abandoned.
“That’s it,” I say as her moans build, holding myself back as I slide my hand over her hip until I can feel her delicate skin under my fingertips.
She curses as I trace circles around her clit, still pushing into her from behind, and then she’s exploding.
Marisol cries out, pushing even further back as her release crashes over her, her head hanging forward. I pump into her a few more times before I’m pulling out, my cum spilling over her back as I groan. I gently tug on my cock, every drop of release landing on her skin.
Marisol slowly looks over her shoulder at me, a satisfied smile on her lips as she giggles. I smile as I grab the shower head and rinse my release from her body.
She stands up straight and melts into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I move the shower head, letting the warm water fall over her hair as she closes her eyes. “Can you wash my body every day?” she asks.
I chuckle before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “What did I once tell you?” I ask. “You tell me when and where, and I’ll be happy to comply.”