Page 73 of Reckless Kiss
Yes, I just lost ten points for overuse of the wordfuck.
He followed my flailing hands with his eyes but kept his distance. He was a good ten feet away with his gorgeous hands on his hips, his blazer pushed back behind them. Have I mentioned how much I loved this suit? It was one of the bright blue ones that made his eyes pop.
“If none of this happened would you still be in love with me?”
I tried to respond—really I did—but my jaw was on the floor and I couldn’t seem to pick it back up.
He stepped closer (much to my terror) and kept talking. “Because I’d definitely still be in love with you, of that I’m sure. So I guess what I’m really wondering is if we fix this—make it all go away—do you think we can be happy?”
How—what? Why? Why were we talking about our relationship (and why did he keep sayinglove!)when there was clearly a much bigger problem to deal with first.
Much. Bigger. Problem.
“Leo, you can’t be serious.” I pointed back at the pictures (why did I torture myself with those?)
“I’m completely serious.” He kept advancing and he had his sex eyes going. Dark, hooded, glowing, and intent on my body. When we left my office I couldn’t stop twisting my hair (because nerves) so now it was piled up on my head in a terrible bun. I was in my normal teaching clothes of a white t-shirt, jeans, a black sweater, and today I wore my glasses.
And yet Leo seemed more attracted to me than ever.
And that made zero sense because I just confessed to him that I had committed several felonies.
Maybe he preferred bad girls?
That would be a problem if that were the case because despite my propensity to break the law and engage in risqué sexual activities, I was at my core a very quiet, very nerdy woman. A good girl, if I’d been allowed to be.
But I wasn’t allowed to be. Or maybe “allowed” was stretching the truth. I wasallowedto be a good girl—in fact it would have been preferred—but my default underlying personality trait was one of individuality, and thus, when told I had no choice but to comply, I had a tendency to do the exact opposite.
So technically I was allowed to be anything. Instead Ichosea different path.
“If—and let’s be clear, it’s a pretty big if—I fix this, why would you want to be with me?”
I’d been trying to figure out who’d taken my formula and used it for themselves. I also couldn’t fathom why this mysterious person was so intent on implicating my father. I wasn’t upset about it as that was my initial intention, but what possible reason did someone else have to take up my revenge?
I was missing key pieces of data.
“Esmeralda.” Leo rarely said my full name but when he did it had an impact. His deep silky voice and that accent, it made the syllables roll off his tongue in a way that made my panties wet. To add to the effect he took my jaw in his hand. “I love you. This,” he waved at the room, “doesn’t change that.”
“It should. I’m basically a stranger to you.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “You are my Esme and you always will be. You’re needy.” Somehow I was in his arms being plopped onto one of the file cabinets. “You’re sexy as fuck. And if I thought you were brilliant before this I was wrong. I now need a brand new word to describe your intelligence and how attracted I am to it.” He discarded my sweater and reached for my shirt.
I stopped his hands. “I don’t understand. Please explain.”
“First your shirt.”
I may have growled. “First explain, then we’ll discuss my shirt.”
He lifted a brow then ran his index finger along the skin of my hip. “Esme, we both think better when we’re calm. Your skin calms me. Please give me your shirt.”
I melted. Every single time he asked politely for my clothes they somehow came off. I’m not sure how as I have no recollection of peeling them off in record time and throwing them across the room, never to be seen again.
“That’s better,” he rumbled. Then he made my bra disappear.
Magic.
“Explain.”
His hands roamed my body as if he were checking to make sure I was real, then he crushed me against his firm, muscular chest. He sighed with great exasperation. “Esme, at the age of eighteen you single handedly orchestrated the greatest con in the history of American Football.”
