A Slave For You.

Thirty Three- You slept with someone last night, Leo?!

Why don't you be the artist and make me out of clay? Why don't you be the writer, and decide the words I say? - Ellie Goulding.

/32/

(2 days BEFORE Cyril & Denzel's shopping day with Kendra.)

Leonardo Blazè's P.O.V:

I fumbled with the lock on my door, trying to quickly get in. My vision was blurred a little, prolonging the process of me gaining access to my house. The woman beside me, who'd gratefully accepted my invitation home, stared at me. I felt her stare. In fact, she'd been doing so from she first laid eyes on me at the bar. That was probably why I felt the need to invite her over.

And to get that dreaded woman off of my mind, for Christ's sake. It was absolutely infuriating.

"Hurrrry, Leo. I can't wait to get my handsss all over you." She spoke, her words slurring every few seconds. I could tell that she was trying to be seductive.

I finally unlocked the door and pushed it open. Immediately, she shoved me inside, her palms square against my chest. When I looked into her eyes, I noticed all the emotions there that I didn't share in return, lust, admiration, eagerness, awe. But, I had to do this. Otherwise, that woman would still be on my mind.

Who was I trying to kid? She'll be on my fucking mind regardless and that's what sickened me. It pissed me off how easy it was for her to walk out of my life like that and how hard it is for me to get over her. What was it? Three or four days since that argument? I know I said some really horrible things. But her words felt she used all of her force and dragged a rusty, sharp dagger through my chest. The feeling the words left was unbearable. There was still a gaping wound in my chest from them.

The woman, who's name I still did not know, leaned closer and started trailing kisses along my neck. I pursed my lips, and discreetly leaned away from hers. She wasn't Kendra. It didn't feel right.

She must've noticed my rejection, because she leaned upward and looked at me with furrowed brows. "What's the matter?"

I blinked. I knew damn well I wasn't in my right mind. I had to be intoxicated. I've got a fine woman standing before me, willing to give me anything I asked for tonight and I was busy thinking about a woman who gave not a crap about me? I had to be out of my mind. Mentally, I shook myself. I had to get it together.

Forcing a smile, I said, "Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it." The words out of my lips seemed to be enough convincing for her, because she was back to kissing my neck in no time. Trying to prove to her that nothing was wrong, I pulled her face to mine and kissed her. Instantly, my stomach clenched. This didn't feel right. Her lips were too huge and wet, sliding all over my top lip. My eyes widened and I tried to withhold my disgust. Whatever was in my stomach sent a warning that if I didn't stop what I was doing, I'd regret it. In short, I gagged.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, her brows pulling together.

I nodded. "My stomach just feels a little weird." I replied.

"Come on," She instructed, throwing my arm around her neck and she dragged me toward the staircase, as if she knew where my room was located in this house. I gritted my teeth.

When we got upstairs, she took me to my bathroom. "You've got anything to let out now?" She questioned, stripping herself of her clothes. I fought for control over my eyes, seen as they nearly widened in disbelief. She was really serious. "Because, when I officially get you to bed, I don't want anything stopping us. At all." She was now down to her underwear. I had to admit she looked really good. But, I've never really seen Kendra in her underwear, yet she still looked better than the woman standing before me.