Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sadie
“ S o,” Liaden says as she shoves my face into the mat while holding my arm behind me in a submission manoeuvre, “can we all stop pretending that you and Leo aren’t secretly rutting away on the quiet like a couple of tasered cats yet?”
Em bursts out laughing. “Yes, please can we get all the shiny details now?! I’m dying here!”
I grumble. “So am I, if you don’t ease up on my arm,” I bitch to Liaden.
“Actually,” our krav maga instructor says, “in a real situation, you don’t want to ease up at all. Pull all the way back, ideally until you hear a snap, and then run to safety while they writhe in pain.” Omar is ludicrously hot, especially in his t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and the bandana holding his dreadlocks back, but right now I could poke him in the eye for making Liaden keep me locked into this hold.
Still, at least we know the manoeuvre works. Like I said when we signed up after Em got attacked, anything that’s good enough for Mossad is good enough for us.
“Yes, thank you,” I say through gritted teeth, “can I be let up now, please?”
“What’s the magic word?” Liaden teases.
I growl. “Seriously? Fine. Please .”
“Nope. Remember my first question?” Shit. “Say yes, and I’ll let you up.”
“Cheeky cow.” I sigh. “Yes, fine, Leo and I are ‘rutting’, as you put it, you friggin’ weirdo.” My arm muscles sing with relief as she lets go.
“Good for Leo,” Omar quips. “Think you can replicate that move from the other side, Sadie Lou?”
I narrow my eyes at my friends, who are low fiving each other. “I look forward to it.”
He grins, and if it wasn’t for my feelings for Leo, and before that my relationship with Peter, I’d have slipped him my number ages ago. If for no other reason because damn, that smile of his is beautiful. “Alright. Try not to kill each other.”
The moment he walks away to another student, Emily cracks. “Ohmygodohmygod, tell us everything , I can’t wait a second longer!”
“OK, OK,” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling. I’m finally ready to talk about it, and although I’m pretending to be my usual cranky self, I’m actually looking forward to sharing everything with them.
But not before I’ve tortured them a bit.
“But only after class.” Em groans in frustration, and I walk towards Liaden. “Now, come at me, Sis. It’s my turn…”
Once we’ve picked a post-class burger joint, ordered, sat down, and started eating, Em’s finally had enough.
“I swear to god,” she explodes, “I have been waiting for this moment for bloody buggery ages , so put down your cheeseburger and tell us everything , or I’m going to stop buying all your favourite coffee flavours for work, and I’ll just buy the tasteless, shitty ones.”
“Oof,” Liaden comments mildly, “I think she’s serious.”
“Not my sticky toffee pudding lattes,” I wail mockingly.
Em ignores me pointedly. “How did you guys finally…” She whirls her forefinger.
“Cut to the heart of the issue?” Liaden suggests.
“Jesus, let me swallow first,” I say through a mouthful of a really fucking fantastic burger. Gooey melted smoked cheddar, an inch thick patty perfectly chargrilled, and sweet maple bacon, with crisp salad and no pickles.
“There’s a ‘that’s what she said’ joke in there somewhere,” Liaden quips.
I open my mouth to crack a joke back, but I see the barely contained impatience in Em’s eyes, and relent. “We talked…” I think for a few moments. “He’s been so patient. It’s just…been a lot to get my head around.”
“I bet,” Liaden says thoughtfully.
“He was amazing when I had that migraine,” I admit, staring at the layers of my burger. “Nothing was too much trouble.”
“That’s the way it should be.” She squeezes my wrist as Em nods. “Peter was not the norm, darling.”
“I know that.” I sigh impatiently. “I knew it back then, too. And yet I stayed with him for far too long for stupid bullshit reasons, and I have to live with that. But I’m not too dense to know that he woefully underdid things, and Leo goes the extra ten miles and then some.”
“Polar opposites. And I am so fucking glad you’re finally letting him do it.”
We both stare at Em. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say ‘fuck’ the entire time I’ve known her. “Easy, tiger,” I tease.
“Not a chance, bish. It’s been so hard not telling you,” she says, sounding almost defiant, “and the thing we’ve all been hoping for has finally happened, so I’m gonna enjoy it.” She takes a huge bite of her spicy bean burger, sauce dripping onto her plate. “Iss ‘bout bwuwwy ‘ime.”
I put my own burger down and sip my cola. “That’s been bothering me. You all knew, and I didn’t, and that makes me feel pretty goddamn stupid.” Em tries to interject, but I carry on talking. “And maybe I was. Because things with Leo…they’re a dream. They’re slotting into place so…disturbingly well, that I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this forever.” I look up at them, and they’re paying attention, letting me ramble. “I just can’t get over the feeling that this is too good to be true, and it’s all gonna come crashing down and leave me with nothing.”
“That’s a trauma response,” Em cuts in. “I felt the same way when I left Gav. You think that this is the way life is, and that good things only happen to other people. But that’s bullshit.”
“So, what, you’re saying that Peter ruined my ability to enjoy anything?” I sneer. Not on my watch. That bastard spoiled enough of my life, he’s not getting any more of it.
“Well, yeah. You expect less, so Leo seems outlandishly good. But all he’s doing is loving you properly.”
I mull that over. “Wouldn’t have said I was traumatised, but there you go. And I’m still going to keep things easygoing while they settle into…well, whatever they’re going to settle into.” I shrug. “I’m not going to make the same mistakes twice in a row.”
“Doesn’t that…” Em pauses, clearly searching for the right words. “Doesn’t that rather punish Leo for what Peter did?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.” I pick my burger up again, mostly for something to do while I consider it all. “I’ve got to look after myself first and foremost, and take things at my pace. Not Leo’s, not anyone else’s. Or I’ll fuck it up.”
“What is it that’s really bothering you?” Em’s food is completely forgotten as she leans forward intently in her chair.
I sigh. “Honestly? He’s idealised me in his head for years. He’s got more one night stands to his name than anyone I’ve ever met. And he hasn’t had anything approaching a serious girlfriend the entire time I’ve known him. I mean, I know why, now, but…come on. No attempts at a relationship at all? With anyone?”
They look at each other, and then Liaden laughs easily, shaking her head.
“Sadie,” Em starts, “I love you very much, but get your head out of your arse.”
I lift an eyebrow at her. She is unintimidated and undeterred.
“Leo is the real deal. You’re beyond perfect for each other. Sometimes it literally is as simple as that. Stop creating problems and obstacles and get it together already . You deserve the good shit after Peter.” She picks up her burger again. “This is life blowing you a kiss. Don’t waste it. Grab him and be happy, you utter turniphead .”
My chat with the girls has left me too thoughtful and listless to watch TV or read when I get home, so I just lie on the sofa, staring at the small cracks in the ceiling close to the light fitting. I must get around to arranging for them to be filled.
I want to brush Em’s words off as an overdose of enthusiasm on her part. After all, from her perspective, it must have been like watching The Vampire Diaries and wondering whether Damon and Elena would ever get it together, except Em had the live show.
My years with Peter were a total and utter waste of time. It’ll take me a while to stop being angry with myself about that.
This time, I’m keen not just to stop spending any more time or head space on that, but also not to lose Leo to a failed romantic experiment, which, like it or not, is a possibility. But I don’t mean to punish Leo with my cautiousness. Is that what I’m doing?
No, of course not. I’m being perfectly reasonable. Just because he’s…felt that way about me for a while, doesn’t mean I have to race to catch up with him.
But am I really racing? Or am I just finally opening my eyes to what was right in front of me all along?
When I spoke to that David guy that night on the cliffs, I resolved to take Leo’s offered heart and hand him my own. Why won’t I just do that?
I grumble to myself. I’m getting very introspective, when normally I prefer to be a doer rather than a thinker. So, in the absence of anything constructive to do, I get up and focus on what I can do to get back into a better headspace. Fleetwood Mac usually cheers me up when I’m cross, so I flick my playlist on. Go Your Own Way starts up, one of my favourites, and I smile. I am going my own way, and that’s OK. That’s downright necessary.
My phone is on the table next to me, and I start to consider my next steps. Use it. Take action.
My head and my instincts are at war. My brain wants me to be sensible. My gut thinks the time for that has long since passed and is now actively getting in the way.
I go with my gut.
Calling up my text conversation with Leo, I start to type. In spite of my tangle of conflicting thoughts, one urge stands clear: I want to wind him up, in the best way. I wanna play. So I stop overthinking for the night and decide to have some fun.
Sadie: I’m off to bed. Just so you know, I’m definitely gonna touch myself while I think about you…
I grin to myself as I brush my teeth, humming along to the next track, Little Lies . This will get a response before I’ve even spat out the minty foam.
But it doesn’t.
I’ve still heard nothing by the time I’ve changed into my satin cami and French knickers for bed.
I frown. Damn it. I was looking forward to a little sexting this evening. And, having had Leo’s long, fat cock inside me, my vibrator just isn’t as good anymore. It still gets the job done, but it’s the difference between a firecracker and a canon.
Speaking of canons, my door is booming, beaten so hard it may well come off its hinges.
I don’t even need to peer through the peephole to know who it is. When I race to the door and throw it open, sure enough, Leo’s leaning on my door frame, catching his breath as he gives me a scorching look. “Need a hand?”
Leo
She can’t send me a text like that and think I won’t come running. Literally, I ran hell for leather the entire way. I can feel a bead of sweat trickling down my back, and my throat is dry from sprinting here, sprinting with a boner, I might add, which feels exactly as weird as it sounds. But I don’t care. I just want my arms full of her, her taste in my mouth, and I want those things right the fuck now.
And despite being out of breath, I can’t help yanking her towards me and crashing my mouth against hers. She’s way better than oxygen, after all. Especially when she responds to me so instantly, so passionately, wrapping her arms around my neck and hanging on for dear life as I pull her closer still, wanting to feel every inch of her beautiful body against me.
The slippery satin she’s wearing abruptly annoys me, and I snap the straps of her top pulling it off her. She kicks off the pants, and she’s so glorious, so naked and silky and mine , that I can’t wait a second longer.
So I pull her to the floor, right where we were standing between her lounge and her bedroom, and taste her mouth again.
She’s a wildcat, and feeling her tear at my clothes to get to me is something out of my horniest daydreams, and it’s actually happening . It fries my brain every time something like this happens, and the novelty shows no signs of going anywhere. My shirt is off, and the moment she frees my cock, I pin her down, line it up, and sink into her. Home . I couldn’t restrain my groan of pure lust if my life depended on it. She feels better than I remembered, even though I was inside her just last night.
Barely have I had the chance to savour the feeling of that first thrust when she starts to move, undulating her hips insistently, working me until she finds a rhythm she likes. The trouble is, I like it, too. Way, way too much. So I withdraw before I can blow it by coming too fast. She always gets me this way, fighting not to come too early, and it’s as maddening as it is addictive. She mewls with protest, and, as I look down at her face, the way her beautiful hair is spread around her in a ripple of bright ginger, my breath catches in my chest.
There’s a faint sheen on her skin, and her neck is flushed rosy. I dive down to taste it. It only makes me want to taste even more of her. So I kiss my way down her stomach, pausing to lick the V of her hips on both sides, before wrapping her thighs around my neck and going to town on her clit.
Any complaints she may have had about me pulling out of her have melted. She opens her legs wider and holds my head in place. As if I’m going to move away from my favourite place in the world. The purring, harsh sighs she makes are making my head spin. All I want is to keep making them happen, over and over.
Dimly, I’m aware of some music in the background. Fleetwood Mac. I grin as I carry on. That’s my girl . Fleetwood Mac is her happy music. Rhiannon is playing, and it hits me as utterly appropriate for this moment of pure heaven I’m experiencing. Stevie Nicks sings about the promise of heaven and asks me if I’ll ever win. And I know that in some ways I’ve already won, but I swear here and now that, no matter how long it takes, I will . I will win all of it - her heart, her soul, the third finger of her left hand - all of it.
I’m not going to fuck this up, no matter what it takes.
She’s grinding against me, hard and fitful, her face screwed up in concentration. “Harder,” she begs, redoubling her efforts. “I need…”
I wonder?
“I know what you need,” I whisper darkly, leaning back and spanking her, almost full force, on her pussy, hitting her clit sharply.
Her eyes fly open in shock, in rebellion, and then… Yes . She whimpers, widening her legs and nodding hard. An evil smile spreads slowly across my face, and I do it again, harder this time, making her gasp. Once more and she’s crying out, “ God, YES!” The last time, I end by placing my middle fingers inside her, rubbing her hard, wanting to crow when she comes all over my hand. She’s wrung out by the time it fades, her thighs soaked with her arousal.
Satisfying my woman like this brings out my inner caveman. This was a bigger rush than I can ever remember feeling before, and I can’t do anything except rush back up and bury myself in her once more, almost sent to the moon when I feel the very last throes of her pleasure twitching around me.
I have to hold on by my fingernails, but I manage to send her over the edge one more time by dragging my cock over just the right spot inside her, again and again, the same place I stroked with my fingers mere seconds ago. The moment she climaxes again, however, I’m done for, and I bury myself as far inside her as I can go for the most intense, mind-blowing explosion I’ve ever had. I swear, it drained the very life out of me.
But somehow, I find enough energy to carry her to her bed and fuck her twice more before allowing us both to sleep for a few hours. And I can’t help thinking that, if she drained every last drop of strength out of me, I’d die a happy and grateful man.