11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Leo
W hat the hell happened to Juliet Mitchell?
I tear off my clothes after switching on the hot water in the shower, the downpour thundering against the floor. Frustration that’s much hotter burns under my skin, and it doesn’t cool from my lack of clothes.
She never would’ve marched up to me and jabbed her finger against my chest in the past. She never would’ve shouted at me or insinuated that I was lazy.
This Juliet is far different from the Juliet that I used to know.
She’s confident and bold with her words when she used to be as soft spoken and quiet as a mouse. She could barely look my father in the eyes because he intimidated her so much .
Now, she’s giving him orders, and he’s following them. He listens to her more than me!
I scoff to myself and yank back the shower curtain to step under the pouring water, droplets rolling down my back. The roar of the downpour fills my ears as I keep my head under it, but my thoughts still manage to break through the noise.
I never thought she would become this confident woman.
And I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t attractive.
It drives me crazy in a way that I can’t control.
I exhale slowly, but I can’t dial down the desire rising within me. I can’t stop myself from getting hard at the thought of her getting so damn close to me. How good her perfume smelled. How she held my gaze with ferocity.
“Fuck,” I breathe out as I place one hand on the shower wall in front of me, letting the water rain down on the back of my head.
My other hand slides down my chest and stomach, following the trail of water down to my hardening cock. My fingers wrap around the base before moving up and down, pumping slowly .
I close my eyes, my lips slightly parting as my breathing picks up. Heat spreads throughout my entire body, pulses of pleasure echoing through me with every stroke of my hand.
I picture her hands on my chest. Her thighs on either side of my waist. Her lips on mine.
I remember how all of that feels. I know how good she feels when I’m inside of her.
A faint groan escapes me, rumbling in my throat. I quicken my pace, imagining myself flipping her over and burying my cock in her. Rocking in and out of her hard and deep just like she likes it.
“Juliet…fuck…”
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter as the pleasure starts to crest, pressure building to its max. I clench my jaw as my cock pulses, spilling over the top of my hand. I exhale heavily, rocking into my fist until I’m completely spent.
My forehead presses against the cold shower wall as I catch my breath, the heat slowly ebbing away. Reality floods back to me, reminding me that I’m not in bed with Juliet.
I’m in yet another damn fight with her .
A heavy sigh breaks from me as I push myself off the shower wall, dread and uncertainty weighing me down. Just when I think things are settling down or I’m figuring stuff out, I run into another wall.
I’m cornered here, and I hate feeling that way.
I just want to…run.
~*~
I wake up the next morning at the sound of rattling.
I draw in a sharp breath as I look over at my bedroom window, the hard wind battering the glass over and over. Bright light spills into the room, and I can already see the haze of heavy snow from my bed.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter as I throw off my blankets.
The storm wasn’t supposed to hit until a little later, but it definitely came early. The wind shakes the trees outside, snow already blanketing the ground as it pelts down at an angle. I can feel the chill through the window, so I can only imagine how much the temperature dropped overnight.
I dig around in my suitcase that I haven’t bothered to unpack and pull out a hoodie to throw on. Dad has a mountain of blankets and pillows in his room, but I still can’t help but wonder if he’s warm enough.
He’s frail. He probably gets cold a lot quicker now.
I brush my teeth and run a hand through my hair, taming what I can before heading to his bedroom. The moment I step inside, he sighs, and I feel like walking right back out.
“You’re still here?”
“I’d be on a plane right now if I still didn’t have business to take care of,” I assure him as I remain in the doorway.
He shakes his head, not looking at me. “What do you want?”
“The storm is here. I’m just making sure you’re warm enough,” I tell him as I cross my arms.
“I’m fine.”
He said that when he broke his hand while working. He’s that type of person, even when he’s on his deathbed.
“I’m sure I can find an extra blanket somewhere if you need one.”
His cold eyes land on mine. “I said I’m fine. You can go. You don’t need to stay somewhere you don’t want to be. ”
There’s a slight waver in his voice that makes me frown. I can’t tell if he’s upset or just really pissed off. I’ve never been able to tell.
“You don’t have to be like that.”
“Like what?”
I roll my eyes. What’s the point? He’s just going to argue and then I’ll argue back, and we’ll be tossed back in this vicious cycle that began years ago.
“Are you going to sell the estate to Devon too? My Corvette?” Dad questions me with a sneer. “What else of mine are you going to hand him for a check in return?”
“It’s just business,” I tell him. “This isn’t personal.”
“It is personal! It has always been personal!” he bites out.
I blink in surprise at his outburst. “Relax, Dad.”
“Don’t tell me to relax! You’re going to sell everything to him to punish me for the past. I just know it.” he says, starting to wheeze.
I walk toward his bed, anxiousness creeping up the back of my neck .
The brightness of the snow outside makes him look even paler and pronounces the dark circles under his eyes. His cheekbones are more visible, and I can see every little painful grimace and wince he tries to hide.
“I’m not trying to punish you,” I say, moving to his bedside. “Can you just relax and take a breath?”
Dad weakly pushes at my arm, trying to shoo me away. “Don’t lie to me. I know you. You can’t lie to me.”
“Dad, stop,” I tell him as I grab his hand and place it on the mattress next to him.
Dad gasps for breath and grabs at his chest, his eyes squeezing shut. He exhales faintly before drawing in an even weaker inhale.
“Dad?” I say, cold fear spreading throughout my chest.
His shoulders lift and drop heavily as he struggles to breathe, his eyes opening and darting to mine. Panic fills them.
I grab his oxygen mask and help him press it against his mouth and nose. “Just relax. Just breathe. ”
Dad grabs my hand as tightly as he can, still gasping and wheezing. His other hand claws at the front of his white t-shirt.
“Is it not working? You still can’t breathe?” I ask him, my words tumbling out in a nervous tone.
Dad leans over like his strength is leaving his body.
My heart slams against the inside of my ribcage, threatening to flee. I don’t know what the hell to do. What if he dies right now?
No, no, no. That can’t happen.
Not now. Not like this.
I stuff my hand into the side pocket of my joggers, digging out my phone. My fingers tremble as I tap around, bringing up Juliet’s contact. I never deleted her number.
I just hope she didn’t change it since then.
“Please pick up,” I murmur as I listen to my phone ring over and over, my hope dwindling and my fear skyrocketing.
He can’t die. He can’t fucking do this to me!
“Hello?” Juliet says .
“It’s Leo,” I tell her, my voice punching out loud and quick.
“What’s wrong?”
She still knows my tone.
“Dad can’t breathe. I put the oxygen mask on his face, but he’s grabbing at his chest,” I say as I glance over at him as he continues to struggle. “I don’t know what to do, Juliet. I think…”
“Keep the mask on his face. Try to get him to relax,” Juliet tells me, her voice coming out far steadier than mine. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“But the storm,” I say, my eyes shifting to the window as snow continues to fall outside.
“I’ll be there,” she promises me. “Stay with him.”
The call ends, and I do as she says, not leaving my father’s side as he fights for a single breath.