No Love Attached

chapter twenty one : ghosts of sex's past

| No Love Attached |
chapter twenty one : ghosts of sex's past
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You've all seen the romance trope. The man storms out on the damsel in distress, realizes what a mistake he made by leaving, and then rushes back to sweep her off her feet; which this day and age translates to: "throw her up against a wall to fuck the shit out of her."

I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't pleased Leo reappeared outside of my room because I knew what came next. I was a publisher with a soft spot for romance, after all. And I'd be a liar if I said I didn't hate myself for being ready to welcome it with open arms.

So, there he was, in all of his ridiculous fuckable glory. That sympathetic look was wiped from his face with no evidence of it ever being there at all. Instead, it was replaced the only thing that could overcome pity, and I could spot it from a mile away. Lust.

I made the mistake of letting my eyes soak him in once more. That chiseled face that I thought about more often than I'd like to admit was right in front of mine. His black Henley clung to his broad shoulders while I pictured ripping it off. That signature scent of tobacco, mint, and vanilla clouding my thought process.

"Leo," I started slowly, trying to gather the words. The alcohol was still stinging my tongue.

"Vera," he knew exactly where I was going with it.

In that moment, something strange happened in my mind. It was as if every moral or ounce of logic was blurred. Each thought that's ever entered my brain was covered in some sort of hazy red film. No one thing was clear, yet the fragments all came together to justify one desire.

Without another second passing, I collided my lips onto his. There was no surprise of adjusting needed, he took me in and kissed back with a hunger I hadn't felt in years.

His lips were soft but the kiss was firm. Hard with a level of anger, even. The stubble along his jaw scratched and tickled at my skin. There was nothing gentle about the moment. His hands went from being tangled in my hair, to the small of my back, eventually finding their way to my ass. After a hard squeeze, he lifted me up. I responded immediately by wrapping my legs around his torso. Leo took the initiative to carry me to the kitchen counter, all without breaking the kiss.

The counter was cold but I didn't care because my blood was on fire. Like lava pumping through my veins, getting hotter at each touch. It was all a fast daze of hair pulling, lip biting, and the tugging of hems that were begged to be ripped off. My nails dug into his sculpted back as his lips finally parted from mine, just to plant a trail of bites and kisses down my neck, sending tingles south.

I finally got a hold of his shirt, ripping it off and throwing it as far away from his body as possible. My stomach dropped as I stared at his perfectly chiseled body, that I didn't know was moderately covered in tattoos until now. The thick black ink decorated the sides of his chest, all the way down his muscular arms.

A moan escaped my lips as his hand found its way between my thighs, working magic. Not being able to take it any longer, I undid his pants. I haven't had a penis anywhere near me in four years, there was no way my body could handle another second of foreplay.

"Wait -- Vera," Leo pulled away breathless. "I can't. We shouldn't. It's not that I don't want to, because believe me, I really, really fucking want to. It's just, I can't be that guy who takes advantage after you just told me about your fiancé." He rubbed his chin in disbelief at his own words.

Now, that my body had remembered what it was like to be touched, it couldn't stop there. I needed more. I could still feel the imprints of his hands where they roamed and grabbed.

"Leo, I'm a big girl. You couldn't take advantage of me, even if you tried. " I sensually opened up my legs that dangled off the counter, giving him a clear view of my lace thong. His eyes slowly trailed from my eyes, to my body, down to what I was offering him. His mouth was agape in lustful awe as he feasted on me. After a moment of indulging, he bit down on his lip and closed his eyes.

"Vera, you have no idea how hard you're making it for me to be a good guy right now."

Yes, I actually did have an idea of how hard it was based on the tightening of his pants and it was just making me more and more determined to take them off.

Leo made his way back over to me. His strong hands snaked around my waist, pulling me close. I was soaked in anticipation of getting what I wanted. His minty, alcohol infused breath blurred my senses once again before he leaned in to press his lips against mine.

This kiss was different. It was long and slow, and made me sick to stomach when he pulled away. Leo's sea green eyes had darkened into the deep hazel ones I dreamed of every night. The scar above his eyebrow had suddenly disappeared, along with his scruff. His nose took on a different shape entirely. It was the beautiful face that had haunted me for years. And just as fast as he appeared, he morphed back in to Leo, gone again. The heated butterflies I had felt just moments ago were poisoned by acid about to explode. My clothes that were just suffocating my body, I was now wishing were permanently super-glued to my skin.

The guilt had begun eating me from the inside out. Not because I couldn't bear the thought of being with someone other than Josh. But because I was dying to. Because even after I saw his perfect face that I loved with my entire heart, I still wanted Leo to fuck me. It was the closest I had felt to my old self in a long, long time, and it felt fucking great. It was official. I was a horrible, horrible person.

"A word from the drunk and wise: being good doesn't get you anywhere. Shit still gets fucked up." My mouth was sour as my jaded realization poured out.

He nodded, knowing what I meant before a small smile appeared on his full lips, "You're a really bizarre woman."

"Well, you met me at a bizarre time. You should have met me in college, you would have really liked me." I laughed thinking of how much fun I was, always doing one of the following; drinking, laughing, or fucking.

He looked at me for a long second, with a smirk that could have made anyone feel like they were the most interesting person in the world. "I like you now."

"No you don't," my eyes rolled despite the strange, girlish feeling his words gave me. "You like the idea of me."

"Do you really think I'd be trying to be a gentleman and restrain myself from fucking you right now, if I didn't have some sort of feeling towards you?"

"I don't know. You're a really bizarre man." I repeated his words with a smirk, in a true Leo Wells manner.

We had another drink and ordered room service. We went on as if the previous heated events of the night didn't happen, even though we both knew we were each replaying it in the back of our minds. The tension of what could have been hung thick in the air of the suddenly cramped hotel room.

That night, I dreamed of Josh, like I often did. Ironic enough in the dream, I was in sex addicts anonymous meeting. Josh sat right next to me with a cup of coffee in his hands, but never said a word.

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Author's Note:
Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. This was by far the hardest chapter I've written for this book so far. I must have rewritten it five times, and I'm still not even sure if I'm 100% happy with it. So please leave some comments with your thoughts or with what you're hoping will happen in the future! Thanks for reading!