Page 62 of For Butter or Worse
When Leo stepped forward, his bare torso briefly brushed against her back. His skin was warm in contrast to the cool air, and goose bumps erupted across her arms in response. She hoped he wouldn’t notice her body’s reaction to being so close to him. At least he couldn’t see that her gaze was fixed straight ahead, on the pesky bed nearby...
His fingers grasped the top of the zipper, and he pulled on it just enough that she stumbled back and against his chest. She muttered an apology under her breath as he slowly lowered the zipper down her back. His knuckle grazed the track of her spine, and his hand stopped at the bottom, just above her ass. She wondered if his eyes were roaming over her exposed skin. And he didn’t move his fingers from the zipper right away, which made her feel like he wanted the back of his knuckle to stay exactly where it was. Neither of them moved. She was afraid that if she did, she’d break the fantasy of Leo examining her—of him potentially wanting more of her.
Eventually he leaned down, and the shadow of his beard scraped against her ear as he said, “All done.”
If she wanted more to happen between them, she sensed that all she’d need to do was say the word, because his mouth still hovered just next to her ear, and his hand was still on that zipper.
Her hand moved from her side, and trailed behind her to find the spot where his hand was. She skimmed her fingertips along his palm until he caught her hand in his and turned her to face him. She looked up and her eyes searched his as her chest practically heaved against him.
Was she really going to take this next step? If they crossed the more-than-make-out-buddies line, they wouldn’t be able to go back. And she knew Leo wasn’t a relationship guy; he just didn’t seem the type.
Then his thumb brushed across her cheekbone—so feather-light that it made her breath catch—and any doubt she’d had about doing more with Leo vanished.
“Last time, you stopped me and said...” he trailed off.
“Fuck what I said,” she murmured. “Devil.”
“Witch,” he replied.
And without thinking of the consequences, or what their relationship was, or how Leo might view her afterward, she crushed her lips against his.
He didn’t miss a beat. He took her face in his hands and pressed more urgently into her. His tongue meeting hers. His legs walking her back so she was pressed firmly against his bedroom wall.
Nina waited to hear the warning sirens in her head blaring to remind her that this was a bad idea, but there was nothing but Leo’s hungry growl as she nibbled on his bottom lip.
She trailed her hands down his back, and was delighted to feel not only muscle, but also softness. She wanted to thank him for having what felt like a healthy body, and one that she was now getting to enjoy, but she didn’t want to disentangle her mouth from his. Instead, she pulled him closer, letting the warmth of him turn her into melted caramel.
He’d shown her more of himself, and she wanted to return the gesture. While she was rarely self-conscious about her curves—she’d eaten so many delicious meals to get them—she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive as she tugged slightly on the straps of her dress so that they fell away. Was Leo going to like what he saw, just as much as she’d liked him?
Leo pulled back to watch as she stepped out of it. His fingertips traced a line along his jaw, and he licked his lips like she was a ripe fig that he wanted to bite into. The strain against his pants confirmed what his longing expression told her, too.
“Nina...” he began.
Before he could make some ridiculous joke and ruin the moment, she interrupted with, “You’re wearing pumpkin pajamas.”
Well, that wasn’t any better, was it?
“That’s what really sent you over the edge, isn’t it? The sight of these round, luscious—”
“You really do need to shut up,” she laughed.
“Keep telling me what to do. I’m into it.” He pressed closer and traced a finger between her breasts. His gaze darted from her lips back to her eyes. “I can stop,” he said.
This was the moment. If she wanted things to end, she could just say so. She knew he didn’t care to stop, and she didn’t want him to either. As inexplicable as the situation was—she and Leo almost naked in front of each other—she craved more of him.
“Not to sound dramatic, but if you stop, I might actually die.” Her hands tightened around his triceps, and they pulsed back against her grip.
“We can’t have that.” A relieved smile crossed his face. Was he relieved that she wanted to hook up with him? Did he think that just because she was half-naked in his bedroom that this was going to be a regular thing? And would that actually be so bad?
Whatever, she wasn’t going to overthink the situation. Obviously, they were attracted to each other. She knew not to mix business with pleasure, but she wasn’t technically in business with Leo. They were helping each other’s careers—and occasionally hooking up, apparently.
So she wouldn’t allow herself to get in too deep, which is why she needed to say, “I’m not looking for anything serious.”
As she said the words, she realized that part of her hoped that it did mean something—that she meant something—to him. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but she didn’t want to feel discarded by him.
He hesitated, then said, “Okay.”
A little hard spot formed in her chest, but she nodded back.Okay. Definitely a word that didn’t suggest he was fighting her on it. He was attracted to her, but nothing more. She’d asked for the answer, and she had no right to be offended by it.
