Page 96 of Worst in Show

He holds still, his lips skimming my shoulder. “You good?” he whispers.

Good is an understatement. I feel like I’ll blow if he so much as exhales too hard. Heck, maybe I’ll go for it. “Give me more,” I say, moving my hips a little.

He’s quick to oblige, adding another finger, and now I couldn’t stay still if my life depended on it. The position we’re in has the flat of his hand pressed up against my entire sex so when he starts working his fingers, every last sensitive nerve ending joins in a chorus of pure elation. I come hard and fast, my hips quaking beneath his grip, and all the while he whispers encouragement against my neck—how sexy I am, how beautiful, how hard I make him. I’m ready for more before the first orgasm has completely subsided.

“I want you,” I pant. “Come here.”

I don’t have to ask him twice.

It’s still early when I’m startled awake by the insistent ring of a phone somewhere in the room. I groan and flop onto my back. “Make it stop.”

Leo is already out of bed, searching the pile of our clothes for the intruding disturbance. I think he’s about to turn it off, but instead, his form grows tense, and he mutters something that sounds like “Get some more sleep. I’ll be right back.”

I doze for a little, the cave beneath the covers warm and lush. My pillow smells like Leo, and that makes me smile in my half-gone state. I’m tired to the bone. Not a lot of rest was had here last night.

At some point, I become more aware of his absence and also of low talking in the kitchen. I wrap the comforter around me and tiptoe across the cool wood floor to the door. It’s open a crack, and I peer out, careful not to intrude.

“Respectfully, I fail to see how this reflects on the family at all,” Leo says. “No one knows I’m here. The store’s been open since early October and even you just found out. Thanks to Bennett. And it’s doing well.” He has his back to me, and one of his hands is resting lightly against the tabletop. “Who’s they?” He pauses to listen. “I don’t know any of them.”

Whoever is on the other line must be raising their voice because Leo pulls the phone away from his ear. When the other person stops talking, Leo hangs his head. “Mom would like me doing this.” He listens again and then slams his palm down on the wood. “You know that’s not true!” His words ring out in the dim room.

I push the door open and pad across the floor, a deep need to make things better rising. Leo startles when he sees me but doesn’t object when I take hold of his arm. The man before me is not the same one who fell asleep spooning me last night. This version is rigid and edgy, the tendons in his neck taut, his brow low.

“I can’t talk to you right now,” he says into his phone before disconnecting the call. He throws it down on the table and runs a hand through his hair. It was already on end before, and it makes me want to smooth everything down. Settle him.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my thumb gently massaging his forearm.

He tries but doesn’t succeed in adjusting his expression. “Nothing.” He inhales quickly through his nose. “My father.”

Uh-oh. That can’t be good. “What did he say?”

“Apparently, I’m humiliating the family by being here.” He frees himself and goes to the faucet. “I don’t want to talk about it. Sorry I woke you up.”

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe having parents who care too much isn’t better than having parents who don’t care at all. I go to him and place a hand on his back, unwilling to let him slip away to a dark place. Little by little, he relaxes under my touch.

“It’s not true.” I make him face me. “You couldn’t humiliate anyone. You’re the most determined person I know. Look at you—you’re ambitious, goal-oriented, and hardworking. You inspire loyal customers, and your organizational skills would make any neat freak drool. All of those are admirable qualities. Ones I wish I had. Why does it matter what your dad says?”

“Because he’s my dad.”

“But it’s your life.”

He pulls away from me again. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I cross my arms. “Try me.”

“No.” He looks about him like a trapped animal searching for escape. When he can’t find one, he finally meets my gaze, and the fight goes out of him. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I’m being a dick, and believe me, this is not how I wanted this morning to go.”

The apology is sincere, and since I had other hopes for this morning, too, I stop pushing. “Parents,” I say instead, shaking my head.

That brings a cursory smile to his lips. “You can say that again.” He rolls his shoulders and shakes out his arms. A loud sigh. Then he bridges the gap between us and places his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He pulls me to him and inhales deeply. “Did you at least sleep okay until all this?”

I nestle close to his chest. “You’ve seen Harvey’s alcove bed, right? Do you really have to ask if your memory foam wonder did it for me?”

“Ah, so you were in it for the mattress? Ouch, my ego.”

I smack his arm lightly and tilt my face up. “Honestly after such a thorough ravaging, I could have slept anywhere. Always knew you’d be an overachiever in your time off, too.” I smirk. “No, the bed was a bonus. You were the prize.”

A shadow flickers behind the contentment at that, but he blinks it away instantly and leans in to kiss me. His lips are cool like the air in the room this morning, but they warm beneath mine, as does my skin where he touches me. Our lips linger and tease while, outside, the sky brightens.

---