Chapter 3 Regret
REGRET
DAPHNE
My head throbs as I pull the sheet over my face, trying to block out the sunlight streaming through the annoying little slit in the curtains. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I try to swallow, getting the first taste, which I’m not sure any amount of brushing will ever wipe away.
Last night, I had way too much to drink. I totally blame Morgan for continuing to ply me with alcohol long after Leo left. Aunt Fran was partially to blame because she got the ball rolling with the bottles of whiskey, sabotaging my plans to stay sober.
“You’re awake,” a deep, gravelly voice says beside me.
I freeze as my eyes widen.
Who the fuck is next to me?
I knew I was trashed, but I didn’t think I’d had so many shots I wouldn’t remember inviting someone back to my hotel room, but clearly, I did.
Lying here, thinking about last night, I remember being at the reception, laughing with my cousins. But for the life of me, I don’t remember walking through the lobby, the ride up in the elevator, or the last few steps to my room.
Shit.
This could be bad.
Like, really bad.
I squeeze my eyes shut and say a silent prayer, hoping like hell I didn’t sleep with one of my brother’s friends. Either way…this has to be my dumbest moment of my entire life.
Well, at least the second dumbest because that time under the football stadium bleachers with Tommy Pasquale probably takes the cake. But I’ve blocked that memory out for so long, I refuse to breathe a whisper of it to another human being for the rest of my life.
Maybe the guy and I passed out, and neither of us will remember a thing about last night.
That would be the best scenario at this point.
I can at least hope that will be the case.
Maybe he was so drunk he couldn’t even get it up, or I’ll find him completely dressed and on top of the sheets because he was a complete gentleman.
A hand slides across my bare thigh and puts all doubt and hope I have to rest. “Please, God,” I whisper.
Rarely has the Almighty come to my aid, but there’s never been a time I needed him more than right now.
The bed dips as the stranger rolls closer. When his bare skin touches mine, I know my prayers have most certainly not been answered. By the way his morning wood is digging into my thigh, I can probably assume we fucked too.
“Morning, bella,” he says.
Oh shit. For real? I close my eyes again, and flashes of leaving the hotel come flooding back like giant slaps in the face in that perfect spot that makes you feel like your skull’s going to explode.
My entire body goes rigid. Leo’s naked. I’m naked. His cock is touching me, and I can’t remember a damn thing.
Just great.
“Did we…?” I suddenly feel ill.
I don’t give him time to answer. I don’t even care I’m naked as I roll off the bed and run toward the bathroom, knowing I’m about to hurl every single thing that could possibly be left in my stomach into the toilet.
Leaning over the porcelain goddess, I gag, waiting to vomit, but nothing comes. My chest heaves, and tears sting my eyes with the realization I’ve fucked up by sleeping with him.
Not just a little, but so damn big.
After growing up surrounded by men who easily could’ve walked straight out of The Sopranos, I told myself I’d never get involved with anyone in the family business.
My father ruined the sexiness Hollywood had portrayed. I knew the lifestyle wasn’t as glamorous as many people believed. Besides that, mobsters were dangerous as fuck. But out of all the guys in Chicago, why the hell did I have to sleep with one who’s the son of my father’s enemy?
The tears fall fast and hard as the stupidity of the entire situation hits me.
“You okay in there?” Leo asks from the other side of the door.
I can’t help myself. I start to laugh as the tears plop onto the seat of the toilet, popping like my shame.
The doorknob jiggles. “I’m coming in.”
“No!” I yell and bite down on my lip, trying to stop the giggles that have suddenly taken over. “I’m fine. Go away.”
“No, bella. Not until I know you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. Just fucking great.” I start to laugh louder than before and slip, falling backward and hitting my back against the bathtub. I howl like an injured wild animal as the edge digs into my skin.
Leo doesn’t bother asking if I’m okay again before he barges through the bathroom door in all his naked glory.
Well, damn.
My laughter dies. I gawk at his body. My face is covered with tears, both from pain and embarrassment, and I’m as naked as the day I was born.
I’m a mess and in pain, but damn it…the man is fine.
Thick, muscular thighs. Abs that resemble an old-fashioned washboard, complete with the most perfect happy trail, which leads to a long and perfectly thick cock.
His pecs are even off-the-charts hot. The man is built.
Then there’s his face. His dark eyes, full lips, stubble, and somehow, he pulls off bed head.
Goddammit, why does he have to be nothing short of perfection?
“Jesus.” Leo scoops me into his arms, not waiting for me to ask for help.
I’m about to slap his hands away, but my back aches and then there’s the fact that I’m so hungover, I’m not sure I could make it back to the bed while staying upright.
“Are you hurt?”
I don’t answer.
His hot skin against mine is doing crazy shit to my insides and totally scrambling my brain. I’ve never been that girl. The one rendered speechless by a guy. Somehow, I’ve turned into her, and Leo Conti’s to blame.
He places my bottom on the bed and then starts to inspect my body for any damage. Leo’s hand skates across my skin while I’m face-to-face with his cock. I don’t mean it’s nearby. I mean, if I stick my tongue out, I’ll get a taste.
I can’t make myself look away either.
He may be my father’s enemy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the man and his off-the-charts hotness along with the sheer perfection of his dick. This is by far the biggest clusterfuck of my life.
“I’m fine, Leo,” I lie and cover my face with my hands, totally embarrassed and wishing I could get a do-over. “You should go,” I tell him and try to keep my eyes on his face instead of his beautiful cock.
If anyone in my family catches Leo in my room, it’ll be game over for both of us.
He backs up, his cock waving around like it’s taunting me, and places his hands on his hips. “This is my place. Where do you want me to go?”
Fuck my life.
“Why me?” I groan and drag my fingers down my face.
Leo kneels in front of me and pushes my hands away. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“I remember,” I say quickly, completely defensive.
I don’t want to be that girl.
You know…the type I clearly am.
The corner of his mouth turns upward. “Tell me what position we did it in?”
I laugh and wince all at once because the tiny monster inside my head is jackhammering away like a boss, probably etching the word “Whiskey” onto my skull as a reminder. “Come on. That’s so easy,” I scoff.
He raises an eyebrow. “Then tell me.”
I mentally flip through every possibility as quick as I can. Since I was drunk off my ass, there’s a high likelihood I wasn’t on top because…hello, I could barely walk.
Leo doesn’t look like the missionary type of guy either, so that’s right out the window immediately.
Two down and only a few hundred to go.
“Doggy,” I blurt out. I’m almost positive this guy is an ass man. If ass men had a look, they’d be Leo.
The smirk on his face turns into a full-on smile as he shakes his head.
“Against the wall,” I say, trying again.
When Leo shakes his head again, I know there’s no way I can go on pretending that I can remember any goddamn second of last night.
“Fine. I don’t remember.” I feel all kinds of whorish, like I need to run to the nearest church and beg for forgiveness in the confessional.
“You’re cute.” He slides his massive hand against my cheek and cups my face. “I didn’t think you were that drunk, or else…”
I glance away, trying to avoid his dark, penetrating gaze. “Now, he has morals,” I say before he can finish the statement.
“Hey,” he says, drawing my eyes back to his. “I always have morals, especially when it comes to women.”
Suddenly, I realize how very naked I am. I was so taken by his bare skin, I completely forgot I wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing and had done nothing to shield myself.
“Fuck.” I push his hand away and scramble to my feet, taking the top sheet off the bed with me. Wrapping the material around my body, I glance around the room, trying to find the monstrosity I wore last night. “Where’s my dress?”
He pitches his head toward the door. “In the living room.”
Living room?
“You have a suite?”
He shakes his head, and that cocky, drop-dead-sexy smirk is back. “We’re at my place.”
“I’ve got to go.” I rush toward the door, not giving two fucks about anything except getting the hell out of here.
Leo wraps his hand around my arm and hauls me backward. “Don’t you want a few memories to take with you?” There’s a smug grin on his face.
I glance down to where his hand is against my skin and grind my teeth. “You want to keep your cock?” I raise an eyebrow as I gaze up into his eyes.
“You’re feisty. I like it,” he teases before he releases his grip on my arm. “Tiger through and through.” I know he’s loving every moment of my misery.
I don’t even have time to ask what the fuck that means. I’m all kinds of sideways. “Pretend I don’t exist.” I run out of his bedroom, scrambling to find my dress to get the fuck out of his place.
Leo leans against the wall in the living room as I scoop my dress off the floor.
I drop the sheet, giving him a full view because he’s seen it all anyway. “Get your last look.” I yank the dress over my head.
Leo’s standing there, arms crossed, looking all kinds of sexy, with his cock waving in appreciation.
“It’s the last time you’ll see me,” I tell him.
“Bella.” He closes the space between us in three quick strides before taking my chin between two of his fingers. “You made promises last night.”
I gawk at him, blinking uncontrollably and totally lost. “What?” I ask him, not exactly knowing what the fuck he even means by that statement. “I was drunk. You can’t hold me accountable for anything I said or did.”
He slides his finger against my jaw as his thumb comes to a rest behind my ear. “It means we aren’t done. Not by a long shot,” he tells me, like he’s making all the sense in the world, and somehow, I’m just supposed to agree.
My eyes are locked on his. I can’t bring myself to look away, no matter how hard I try. “We can’t do this again, Leo.”
“We won’t. Next time, you’ll be sober and begging for my touch.”
Butterflies start to buzz around my stomach at his words. Or maybe it’s the liquor still sloshing around, waiting for its perfect moment to remind me of all the ways I fucked up. I swallow down every bit of lust this man fuels in me and lift my chin, ever defiant.
He leans forward like he’s about to kiss me. I hold my breath, wanting him to both do it and not at all at the same time.
I pull away, moving quickly toward the door, and I glance over my shoulder. “Forget I exist.”
“We’re not done, bella,” he tells me as the door closes.