Blindsided (34 page)

I
f it isn’t an ass-battering from Coach about all the media attention swarming me since Leah and I went public about our relationship, it’s the pictures I didn’t even fucking know about until yesterday being leaked.

And if it isn’t that, it’s the frostiness that’s lingered between us since we left my parents’ place last night. It’s the slow withdrawal of her from me. And the worst thing is that it’s my past. The one thing I didn’t think would make a difference to us when I proved to her that this is it.

The fake way I lived could destroy the realest thing I’ve ever known.

Yet she’s still here. So she lay pretty much fucking still last night, both of us barely sleeping but neither of us talking, and she’s said all of two words to me this morning, but she’s here.

She’s. Still. Fucking. Here.

I rub my temples and glance at her. She’s crouched on the floor in front of the coffee table, paper spread out all over the wooden surface. Her pencil flits across the page with ferocity, the scratch somewhat audible over the sound of the TV. I’m too far away to see what she’s drawing, but it doesn’t take a fucking genius to work it out.

It’s a cruel reminder of everything she works to hide. A cruel reminder of everything that could be taken from her in an instant if someone digs too far.

She’s still fucking perfect though. It feels like there are a thousand years spanning the few feet between our bodies, but I can’t help but stare at her. She’s the only thing that makes this whole situation better. She’s the only fucking thing that makes all the bad shit melt away.

That’s the thing though. Be enough of an asshole, and when shit finally goes right, it’ll get taken away from you.

I’ve never been as scared of anything as I am that this girl will get up and walk away from me.

Right now, I want to handcuff her to me, lock her body against mine with a thousand solid padlocks. I want to keep her right here with me, because that’s where she belongs.

Hell, never mind that. I belong with her. One hundred fucking percent, I belong with this girl.

I belong with my girl and she belongs with me. The end. Happily fucking ever after.

I get up and walk around and crouch behind her. She doesn’t move as I do, her focus entirely on the page in front of her. I can see now what she’s drawing. It’s an evening gown, long and flowing, and I’ve never seen anything like what she’s creating right in front of my eyes.

I sit with her and wrap my arm around her waist. I rest my chin on her shoulder and watch her work. She’s completely at peace, her hand moving nimbly across the page, her eyelashes fanning her cheeks when she blinks. She nibbles at her lip as she works, denting the pink flesh with white with every bite.

“We have to bake Ada a birthday cake,” she says out of the blue, her pencil stilling. “Did you find out how to make one?”

“Uh…”

“Corey.” She puts her pencil down and shifts so she can look at me. “I thought you were going to learn.”

“I was. Then I got…distracted.” Not a lie.

She sighs. “It’s a good thing I can make a killer chocolate cheesecake, isn’t it?”

“Wait,” I say, stopping her from getting up. “You can make a chocolate fucking cheesecake and you wanted me to learn how to make a sponge?”

“Um, yes. Pretty much.”

I pull her to me and brush my nose against his. “Fuckin’ hell, babe. Good thing I didn’t learn, huh?”

She nods. “I’ll teach you how to make chocolate cheesecake. I already bought everything.”

“I don’t want to learn.”

“I like chocolate cheesecake.” She taps my nose. “So if you ever happen to piss me off, which is a regular occurrence, as we both know, then you can make me a cheesecake and I’ll be your friend again.”

“Friend? You’ve never been my damn friend. You skipped straight from enemy to lover.”

“So I did.” She grins. “Come on. We have to cook it now before we have to go for dinner.”

“In a minute.” I bring her face back toward mine and seal my mouth over hers.

She doesn’t fight or back away like I expected her to. Instead, she cups my face with her hands and holds her lips against mine.

“Now?” she asks.

“Fine.” I sigh and stand up with her. “I can’t bake to save my life, for the record. Not even fuckin’ cookies.”

“I guessed that when I discovered that I had to buy a cake pan.” She throws a sassy smile over her shoulder and pulls said pan out from a cabinet I don’t think I’ve ever used. “Just do what I tell you to, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now take off your shirt.”

“What the hell does that have to do with baking?”

“Nothing,” she admits, still smiling. “I just like the view.”

I smirk and toss my shirt on the table. “Better?” I step up behind her and cup her hips.

“Hmhmm,” she responds, tilting her head to the side and grabbing a package of cookie. “Now be a doll and crumble these into this bowl.”

I sigh and let her go. “Yes, ma’am.”

She purses her lips, but the happy twitch gives them away. “Just do as you’re told, cowboy, and this will go smoothly.”

“I prefer things rough.”

She flattens her hands on the counter and drops her head back. “If there’s anyone up there,” she directs to my ceiling, “I could do with an extra bucket-load of strength to deal with this guy. Thanks.”

I laugh at her exasperation and, in my distraction, crumble cookie all over the floor. “Shit!” I laugh even harder.

“Corey! Oh my God! How can you fuck up crumbling cookies?” Leah looks at the floor then at me. Then she shakes her head. “I… I don’t… Just don’t make any more mess, okay?” She looks away, her shoulders shaking lightly.

“I know you’re laughin’,” I utter under my breath.

She glances over her shoulder and pokes her tongue out, the dancing of her eyes warming me inside.
There’s my girl.

She drops another pan on the stove and throws some butter into it to melt it. I keep crumbling cookies into the bowl until she tells me to stop and throws the melted butter in with some sugar.

“I’m trying to decide if I want to let you mix this.” She stares at the bowl. “I’m going to regret this,” she says, handing me a spoon. “Try not to flick it everywhere, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stop saying that!” She narrows her eyes and lightly jabs my arm. “Now be quiet because I need to concentrate.”

I focus on mixing as she does whatever else she needs to do. Then, so I don’t look totally stupid, I slide my phone onto the counter and Google a chocolate cheesecake recipe. It’s pretty dumb since she’s already guessed that I’m like a virgin in a strip club when it comes to baking, but hey.

“Uh, babe?” I look up from my phone. “Isn’t this supposed to go into the fridge before you do the chocolatey stuff?”

Leah’s eyes snap to mine. “Yes. But we don’t have time because I forgot to do that this morning. How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” I discreetly put my phone back in my pocket.

“Corey Jackson, did you just Google a recipe?”

My eyes widen. “No. I’d never do that.”

“You’re such a liar!” She gasps, turning the stove off. “I can’t believe you.”

I grab the bowl and stir in front of my body because she looks like she’s about to put this spoon somewhere uncomfortable.

After a long moment, she turns away and pours some melted chocolate into some cream and sugar. She grabs a cream-covered whisk and glances at me every few seconds, her eyes narrowed. Shit. I’m in trouble.

Maybe I should stick to being a baking reject next time.

Next time? No. Fuck this. I’m not baking shit ever again.

Leah puts the chocolate mixture down and goes to the fridge. I set my bowl next to hers and dip my fingers into the chocolate, my lips twitching. She turns, and I swipe my finger down her nose.

“You did not just put chocolate on my face.”

I grin and step back into the counter. “Me?”

Her lips twist into a half smile, half purse, and she advances on me, her own fingers dipping into the mixture.

“Now, darlin’, think about what you’re doin’ here…”

I hold my hands up, but quick as lightning, she launches herself at me and smears three fingers across my cheek. I laugh and scoop some back off, going after her. I get her cheek, some of it spreading onto her mouth.

She pauses to lick up that mixture. Then, with a tiny, “Mmmm,” she shoves her hand in the bowl and presses it flat against my cheek.

It covers one-half of my face, still warm from when the chocolate melted. I stare at her in disbelief. She giggles, backing up against the counter, her face and hair brown from my attack.

I pin her to the counter then rub my mixture-clad cheek against her clean one.

“Corey! Coreeeey!” she shrieks, trying to get me away, but it’s entirely in vain. I’m stronger than she is, and besides, she’s too busy fucking laughing at me.

“What?” I ask, pulling back. “Hey, it’s a good look for you.”

“Dick!” She reaches behind her and grabs the sponge.

Instead of wiping her own face, she throws it at mine. Soaking wet. It smacks me in the cheek and hits the floor with a loud, wet
thwack.
I bend down, grab it, and wipe my face clean.

It smacks me in the cheek and hits the floor with a loud, wet,
thwack.
I bend down, grab it, and wipe my face clean. “Thanks, babe.”

“What about me?” She looks at me, her last laugh still playing with her lips, her eyes wide and sparkling.

“You threw it at me. I didn’t know you wanted it.” I rinse it under the tap. “Did you?”

She pouts.

“Okay, fine. Here.” I push it onto her nose and water drips everywhere. It runs down her chin and neck and soaks her shirt.

She gasps, grabbing the sponge and blinking at me. “Oh my God.”

“I’m sorry!” I swallow my laughter and take it from her. “Here. Let me help you.”

“I don’t trust you at all!” She darts under my arm. “I’m going to shower and you can clean this up. Okay? Good.”

I watch her go then spin to see the kitchen. Yeah. There are crumbs all over the floor, and they’re now accompanied by water puddles and chocolate drops and smears.

I’m going to join the shower thing.

I run upstairs after her and shrug my jeans off in my room. My boxers go down with them. Then I walk into my bathroom and yank the shower door open. The large space inside gives enough room for us both, and Leah turns, unsurprised.

“I knew you’d do that,” she sighs, running her fingers through wet hair.

Her tits bob as she roughly rubs her scalp, and my eyes fall down to them. Her nipples pebble beneath my gaze, and I grasp her waist.

She moves toward me without my urging, her wet body pressing flush against mine. I ease one of my hands up her body, my palm rubbing over her nipple, and cup the back of her neck. Her lips part as I tug her head back, and she shuts her eyes. I look at her for a moment, ignoring the begging of my cock, before I finally take her mouth.

She whimpers beneath me and slides her hands up my back to my shoulders. She curves her hands around them and moves so close that I know there isn’t an inch of space between us. I want nothing more right now than to push her against this wall, slip my cock between her legs, and fuck her. I want to let go of the stress of the last twenty-four hours with her.

But it isn’t right. I need more. She needs more. So instead of flipping her back onto the wall, my hands fall to her ass and curve around her thighs. I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me. My cock bobs against her pussy, the temptation coiling all my muscles.

I carry her into my room so I can drop her on my bed and lean over her. Her eyes crawl over my body and she draws in a sharp breath, ghosting her fingertips over my stomach. She sits up halfway, her hands on my sides, and brings her mouth to my chest.

“No.” I grab her hands and pin them to the bed. Then I lower my face to hers so she feels my words instead of just hearing them. “This is the part where I get to kiss every inch of your body, not the other way around. There are so many spots I haven’t touched yet. So many spaces I need to taste, to touch, to feel.”

She gives a small gasp when my mouth lowers to her breasts. I wasn’t fucking lying to her when I said that I want to kiss every inch of her body. I should have done that way before now, but I needed her too badly. I needed to be inside her more than anything else.

Now, it’s all about her. It’s about me and her, more than a fuck. It’s about us getting something from nothing. Right now, I intend to show her the time of her goddamn life.

Her chest rising and falling as her breathing picks up, and I feel her stomach clench beneath my lips as they travel along the skin above her bare pussy. Breast to belly button, I brush my lips over her body. Belly button to hip, my tongue swirls. Hip to hip, I dot hot, openmouthed kisses along the invisible line there.

I lift her leg and brush my nose down it, pausing just before the apex of her thighs. Then I do the same the other side. Being so close to her pussy and not touching or tasting it is driving me insane because I can smell her. Shit, I can see her wetness glistening on her gorgeous, pink flesh.