25. Azaria
AZARIA
"We leak it," I say immediately, sitting up straighter on the bed. "We take everything Logan found and we give it to someone who can make noise. The Times, the Post, someone with reach."
Theo's expression hardens. "Absolutely not."
"Why not? We need the court of public opinion on our side. Once this is out there, Massimo can't bury it."
"He can absolutely bury it. His legal team will destroy any journalist who runs with incomplete evidence, and then we'll have nothing."
I swing my legs off the bed, standing to face him properly. "So we just sit here while they plan their next move? While they figure out how to eliminate their problem?"
"We go to the police with what we have."
"With what? A guest list and some financial patterns?
They'll file a report and forget about it within a week.
" I cross my arms, feeling my pulse quicken with frustration.
"These men have been moving money for years, Theo.
You think the NYPD is going to take down a federal money laundering ring based on our amateur detective work? "
"I think we need more than theories before we make ourselves bigger targets."
"We're already targets! The only difference is whether we fight back or just sit here waiting for them to destroy us completely."
Theo steps closer, his jaw tight. "Fighting back without a plan is how you get yourself killed, Azaria. This isn't about your reputation anymore—these people eliminate problems."
"So what's your brilliant plan? Investigate for another six months while they frame me for everything they can think of? Wait until the evidence is so airtight that even you feel comfortable acting on it?"
"I want evidence that won't get thrown out the moment Massimo's lawyers look at it sideways."
"And I want to stop being a sitting duck while you perfect your strategy. This is exactly what you do—you need to control every single variable before you'll make a move."
"And you charge at things without thinking about what happens when they push back."
His grey eyes are darker than usual, and I can see the muscle in his jaw working as he tries to maintain that infuriating control.
"Maybe some things are worth the risk," I say, taking a step closer to him.
"Maybe some things are too important to gamble with."
We're standing close enough now that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. Close enough that I can see the way his chest rises and falls with each controlled breath. Close enough that the air between us feels electric.
"You can't protect everything by refusing to act, Theo."
"And you can't fix everything by rushing headfirst into danger."
"I'm not asking you to fix anything. I'm asking you to trust that sometimes the only way forward is through the chaos."
His hands clench at his sides. "I'm asking you to trust that some chaos isn't worth surviving if it gets you killed."
The frustration rolls off both of us in waves, mixing with something dangerous. Something that's been building since the moment he stepped between me and that reporter. Since he chose me yet again over his carefully constructed life.
"We're not just talking about the investigation anymore, are we?" I whisper.
His eyes drop to my mouth for just a fraction of a second before snapping back up. "No. We're not."
I grab the front of his shirt and yank him forward. Our mouths crash together. Just teeth and tongues and frustration finally boiling over. He tastes like whiskey and something darker, something that makes my pulse spike.
Theo doesn't hesitate. His hands are in my hair, fingers twisting in my braids, pulling just hard enough to make my scalp tingle. I gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, his tongue pushing deeper like he's trying to claim every part of me at once.
My hands are already working at his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle because I need him naked now. He growls against my lips when I finally get it undone, the sound vibrating through me. His hands leave my hair to grip my waist, lifting me effortlessly onto the bed.
I land on my back with a bounce, but before I can even think, he's on me—knees between my thighs, hands ripping at my top—his top. I don't care. I'm too busy pulling at his shirt, nails scraping down his chest when I finally get it off him.
"Fuck, Azaria," he groans when my hands find his belt again, this time working it free completely before moving to his zipper. "You're going to be the death of me."
I bite his lower lip hard enough to make him hiss. "Good. At least you'll die happy."
"Not nearly happy enough."
Then his mouth is on my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below my ear before moving lower.
He doesn't bother with my bra—just pushes the cups down, exposing my nipples to the cool air.
I arch into him when his mouth closes around one, tongue swirling in slow circles that make my back bow off the bed.
My hands find their way into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. "Theo, please?—"
"Please what, princess? You want my fingers? My tongue? My cock?"
The words send a jolt straight to my core. I spread my legs wider, hips lifting in silent invitation. "All of it. I want all of it."
He doesn't make me wait. His hand slides down my stomach, fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties before yanking them down my legs.
The cool air hits my wet pussy, making me shiver.
Theo's eyes never leave mine as his fingers find me, two of them sliding through my folds before pressing inside.
I gasp at the intrusion, my body clenching around him. "Oh god?—"
"Look at you," he murmurs, fingers curling just right to make my vision blur. "So wet already. Is this for me, Azaria? Did you get this wet just from fighting with me?"
I can't answer. Not when he's moving his fingers like that, not when his thumb finds my clit and starts rubbing slow, torturous circles. My hips buck against his hand, chasing the pleasure that's building too fast, too intense.
"Answer me," he growls, fingers stilling inside me.
"Yes," I gasp. "Only you. It's always only been you."
Something dark flashes in his eyes at that. His fingers start moving again, faster this time, deeper. I can feel my orgasm building, my body tightening around him?—
Then he stops.
I whimper at the loss, hips lifting off the bed. "Theo, what the fuck?—"
He smirks, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean. "Patience, princess. I want to taste you properly first."
Before I can protest, his mouth is on me, tongue sliding through my folds in one long, slow lick that makes my back arch off the bed. He groans against my pussy, the vibration sending sparks through my entire body. "Fuck, you taste even better than I remember."
I can't form words. Not when his tongue is doing that thing where it flicks against my clit before swirling around it. Not when his fingers are back inside me, curling just right to hit that spot that makes my vision blur. I'm so close, so fuckingclose?—
He pulls away again.
I actually whine this time, my hands fisting in the sheets. "Theo, please?—"
"Tell me what you want," he demands, grey eyes locked on mine as he licks his lips.
"You," I gasp. "I want you. Your cock, your fingers, your mouth—I don't care. Just fuck me."
Something primal flashes in his eyes at that. In one fluid motion, he's on his feet, shoving his pants and briefs down his legs. His cock springs free, thick and hard and already glistening at the tip.
I lick my lips, watching as he strokes himself once, twice. "Condom?"
He grabs my ankles, pushing my legs up until my knees are practically by my ears. The position leaves me completely exposed, completely at his mercy. Theo lines himself up, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
Then he thrusts inside me in one smooth, powerful motion.
I cry out at the intrusion, my body stretching to accommodate him. He's big—bigger than I remember—and the angle makes him hit places that make my vision blur. Theo groans above me, hands tightening on my ankles. "Fuck, Azaria. You feel incredible."
I can't answer. His hips snap against mine, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. I can feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein—it's almost too much, but I don't want him to stop.
"Harder," I gasp, nails digging into his forearms. "Fuck me harder, Theo."
He obliges, hips snapping against mine with enough force to make the bed creak. His cock hits that spot inside me with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure crashing through my body. I can feel my orgasm building, my body tightening around him?—
"Look at me," he growls, fingers tightening on my ankles. "I want to see your face when you come on my cock."
I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his grey eyes is almost too much, but I can't look away.
"Come for me, princess," he murmurs, hips snapping against mine in short, sharp thrusts. "Let me feel you."
The words push me over the edge. My back arches off the bed as my orgasm crashes through me, my body clenching around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me.
Theo groans above me, hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me with his release.
For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing and the feel of his cock still twitching inside me.
Then Theo collapses on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress.
I wrap my arms around him, fingers tracing idle patterns on his back as we both come down from the high.
"Fuck," he murmurs against my neck, lips brushing against my skin. "That was?—"
"Intense," I finish for him, a small smile playing on my lips.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, grey eyes searching my face. "Are you okay?"
I nod, pulling him down for another kiss. "More than okay. That was exactly what I needed."
I stand up and grab the towel from the chair and wrap it around myself, padding toward the bathroom without looking back. My legs still feel unsteady, but I force them to carry me across the room with as much dignity as I can manage.
"Why do you do this?"
Theo's voice stops me at the bathroom door. I can hear the rustle of fabric behind me—him pulling on his clothes.
I don't turn around. "Do what?"
"Act like nothing happened. Every single time we—" He cuts himself off, and I hear his belt buckle clink. "You disappear the second we're done."
"Because nothing happened." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I force it out anyway. "It's just sex, Theo. Really good sex, but that's all it is."
"Is it?"
Now I do turn around. He's sitting on the edge of my bed, fully dressed except for his shirt, which he's holding in his hands. His grey eyes are fixed on me with that intensity that makes my chest tight.
"Yes. It is." I grip the towel tighter. "Why can't you just be a normal guy and be happy to get some without all the feelings? This would be so much easier if you'd stop acting like it's more than what it is."
His jaw ticks. "And what is it, exactly?"
"Physical. Chemical. Whatever you want to call it." I shrug like my heart isn't hammering against my ribs. "But it's not more, Theo. It can't be more."
"Right." He pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. "Physical."
"Exactly."
He stands.
"Theo—"
He pauses in the doorway but doesn't look back.
Then he's gone, and I'm alone with the sound of my own ragged breathing and the ghost of his hands on my skin.
I wait until I hear his footsteps fade down the hall before I close the bathroom door and turn on the shower. The water takes forever to heat up, but I step under the spray anyway, letting the cold shock my system.
The tears come without warning. Hot and fast and completely silent, streaming down my face and mixing with the water from the showerhead. I press my palms against the tile wall and let myself break apart where no one can see.
Because I lied. Of course I lied.
It's never been just physical with Theo. But wanting more doesn't mean I get to have it. Wanting more doesn't erase the fact that I'm a walking disaster who destroys everything I touch.
How long before my chaos becomes too much? How long before he realizes that loving me means watching his carefully built life crumble?
The water turns scalding hot, but I don't move. I just stand there and cry until my chest aches and my eyes burn and there's nothing left inside me but the hollow certainty that I'm protecting us both by pushing him away.
Even if it's killing me to do it.