Chapter 30 Commitments
COMMITMENTS
LOURDES
Ifiled through Leah’s massive wardrobe to steal clothes, landing on a pair of yoga pants. I pulled a red shirt out that said, “Punch a Tory, live longer.” I shook my head.
“Where the fuck does she get these things?” I asked, continuing through a row of jumpers and pullovers.
Leah remained the sort of beautiful enigma I could only chase—or did she?
Last night, I’d felt her walls come down.
Mine had, too. I wanted nothing more than to wake next to her every day.
In the low light of evening, it felt easy to choose her.
Now, the cold reality of my situation hit.
Once more, I felt the pull of having a stable career and the risk that loving her posed.
I figured it was chilly enough to put on a heavier layer. I grabbed an oversized, well-worn pullover in solid blue and wandered into the kitchen. Perched over the kitchen island, Leah ate a bagel in an oversized t-shirt from her alma mater and a pair of red cheeky panties.
“I ordered you one with lox,” Leah nodded at the bag on the counter. “I called down to the place across the street. You’ve got a cappuccino, too.”
“Did you answer the door in that?” I laughed.
“Just a crack. Although maybe that would have been a second tip?”
I kissed her, slowly. “I will say this with all the kindness in the world, Leah, but your wardrobe needs help.”
“How dare you!” She laughed.
“You have a shirt that says, ‘punch a Tory’. In what world could you ever wear that.”
“Oh, my cousin got me that. I don’t wear it out, but I laugh every time I see it.”
“Which cousin?” I asked, confused.
“Duncan.”
My mouth dropped. “Wait? The Prince of Wales is a Labour supporter?”
“Oh, I doubt Duncan thinks much about politics, he just knows I hate the Tories, so he saw it somewhere and bought it.”
“Risky.”
“He’s a nutcase,” Leah said.
“I do not understand your family still.”
She tucked my hair behind my ear. “And you don’t need to. But I like that shirt on you. Keep it.”
“It’s comfortable. I shall.”
“So, today? What do we do?” Leah braced against the kitchen island.
“Celebrate survival and nurse a hangover?”
“Uh-huh. And… talk about last night?” She winced.
My face gave me away.
“Lourdes, here’s the thing. Last night was amazing and… I’m too attached. So, if you’re going to break my heart, let’s go back to being friends… or not… and you can stay out of my love life.”
“Did you practice that monologue?” I asked.
“Dozens of times,” she admitted. “For over ten years.”
It broke my heart and shook me. I hoped we could just spend the day not thinking about clarifying if we were or weren’t a thing.
Now, I was confronted with her need to codify it.
This time, my resolve weakened. Maybe it was the feeling of us coming together or the heady post-opening-night buzz, but damn if I didn’t love Leah Roughy.
Unable to fight the urge, I kissed her, pressing her into the counter. I didn’t have many words to describe how I felt. At least, if I had them, the words weren’t enough to convey the sheer strength of the feeling.
Leah pushed me back. “No. I need more than sexual chemistry, Lou. I need partnership and investment. I need… you. And I need you to tell me we’re good. I know we’re good in bed, but I’m afraid you’ll wake up tomorrow and climb two steps back into that closet.”
“That’s fair. My words fail.” I shook my head. “And shouldn’t my actions speak louder?”
“Not now. Because I love you. I am in love with you. I realized last night I have been since we were in London together and…” She dropped her eyes. “If I’m in, I need to be all in and I need to know you aren’t going to break my heart.”
Slowly, I cupped her face, tracing her cheeks with my thumbs.
“I’m not ready to go running on stage to declare my love for you,” I sighed.
“But I do think I’m almost there. I know I love you and that I can do it.
I want to do it, but I’m still feeling through this whole thing I’m going through.
Let me sign my divorce papers and be truly on my own—back with my own bank account and name—before we hard-launch anything. Is that fair?”
Leah considered my words. “But it’s not a no?”
“It’s a ‘not now but later’.” I swallowed how hard it was to admit I was on my way to doing the Big Thing I most feared.
“You never should have left London like you did,” Leah said softly.
“What?”
“I had this thing planned for you, Lourdes. I was going to tell you how I felt and suggest we should try but you left—probably because you worried I’d tell you what I wanted to try. I mean, honestly, I would have begged you. And I tried again when I left London, but… Gabe ran me off.”
“Ran you off?”
“He threatened to tank my film career, Lou. All because he wanted you. So, when you get on this moral high horse about me—”
I glared, but she shook her head, “We can’t fix that. We can’t undo the fuckups or get the time back. The time wasn’t right for whatever reason, and I honestly wasn’t ready to be the person you truly needed, but I think I am now.”
“But you need me to be the person you need.”
Leah nodded. “And you are.”
I wanted to be. I hoped I was. I pressed my forehead to hers and let out a long breath.
She waited for me to calm before looping her hands around my waist. Her eternal sweetness and hope momentarily quelled my fears.
Her belief in this was so pure in a way she never expressed.
If I’d known she waited ten years to tell me, would I have acted differently?
I laced my fingers through her scarlet hair, needing to feel her lips pressed to mine in hopes it may feel real. She pulled me in, hips pressed to mine. I wanted this. I needed this. Then, she bit my lip, insistent on more.
“I should punish you for not telling me back then,” I said.
Leah’s nostrils flared defiantly. “Then, punish me.”
She brushed past, wanting me to follow. Casually, Leah sipped her drink—no doubt an americano with however many shots.
I braced her against the counter and kissed her neck.
“What are you doing?” She laughed, coyly.
“Take off your knickers, Leah.”
“No,” she replied.
I spanked her ass which bounced delightfully. “Take off your knickers.”
She backed her ass into me defiantly.
I responded by pulling her knickers down, spanking her bare ass. “If you won’t obey, I will.”
Leah looked back. “I did nothing wrong.”
“And yet…” I slipped my hand between her legs. “Here we are…”
She moaned, butting her hips against me. Leah’s grinding made me wet. Until last night, I’d never even thought I could get off like this—no matter how many times she’d told me to try. Now, I was convinced.
Leah looked back, demanding more.
“I shouldn’t let you come.” I ran my fingers over her wet clit.
“And I shouldn’t let you do this to me.”
“Do what?” I wanted her to say it.
“Fuck me from behind like this,” Leah panted.
“I don’t think I can,” I admitted.
“Try it and see. If not, I’ll eat you out,” Leah said.
I kicked my leggings and knickers aside. I kissed her while pressing her body into the kitchen island. We rolled our hips together. Once more, I touched her clit and rolled my fingers torturously across it.
“Oh, fuck,” Leah moaned. “More. Please more. I want you to come.”
I continued rolling my hips, now gripping hers with one hand.
I pulled her t-shirt aside, to better kiss her neck.
She shuddered at my touch in sweet anticipation.
I sucked on her neck and continued thrusting, enjoying the sensation of being pressed against her ass.
This had to tick a box for Leah. She loved to be dominated.
I slid my hand once more between her desperate thighs, enjoying how wet this made her.
“Are you going to behave, Leah? Are you going to listen to me?”
“Uh… uh-huh,” she panted. “Fuck me harder.”
I gripped her, again pulling her hips into mine as I found myself closer to my climax.
We hit some sort of magical rhythm which began to send me over the edge.
I didn’t know what got into me, but I bit down on the exposed part of Leah’s shoulder.
I came, then landed back on earth realizing that would leave a mark.
“Did that hurt?” I panted.
“It hurt so good,” Leah moaned. “Fuck me, Lou. Make me come!”
I picked up the speed and slipped my fingers inside her. She screamed, unable to control her orgasm a second longer. Nothing made her happier than to be given orders. She braced on the counter for stability as she wound down.
“We… have to do brunch… at Brian’s,” Leah panted.
“Uh-huh,” I noted. “And we haven’t even bothered eating.”
“I really don’t care,” Leah giggled. “That was damn hot!”
I examined her shoulder from the side. “God, I love you. I am sorry I bit you. It’s going to leave a bruise.”
She turned around. “Don’t apologize, baby. That was hot as fuck. Makeup can cover it. People are going to wonder what sort of vampire I’m fucking.”
I snickered. “Sadly, just one overzealous soprano who finally understands the concept of tribbing.”
“She only waited forty years to try it,” Leah teased, reassembling herself. “Speaking of which, what do you want to do for your birthday?”
“Nothing, please,” I pleaded.
“Not even a super fancy dinner?” Leah asked. “One where we get all dressed up.”
“I don’t have the energy, Leah.”
“Well, I will plan it,” Leah said. “Don’t you think about it. It’s your birthday. Let me take you out properly.”