Page 68 of Tommy
The best thing that ever happened to me was seeing her still alive after the attack. The first one. The second one almost ruined me. But that first one? That showed me my greatest fear. That her innocence was being lost, and I was doing nothing to stop it.
So I stepped in. I was never going to let her go, but the Kings gave me a gift in the form of her feeling obligated to stay. She might think this is all for her debt, but I haven’t thought about the money since that first night unless Bobby brings it up.
It might sound like I paid for her, and honestly, I did. But she’s worth every cent. And more.
Once we pull into my garage, she waits to get out. I’m only too happy to offer her a hand as she puts her legs down and exits. Her ass is impeccable in her dress. It’s an off-the-shoulder strappy, almost bondage-style dress that’s dark pink. The way she keeps picking that color makes me think it’s her favorite, despite the fact that she rarely wears it at the club, instead choosing dark colors like black or blue as if to blend into the rafters above.
Her hair is down with a slight wave to it. More than once tonight, I’ve twirled it around my finger. First when she came out and showed me her dress. Then again as I held the chair for her at dinner. A few more times as I draped my arm around the back of her chair at the ballet. Every time I did it, she noticed, but she never told me to stop. Didn’t even question me doing it.
When we get to the apartment, she exits the elevator first, and I watch her ass move behind the skintight dress. Until she whirls, catching my stare.
But she doesn’t smile when I look up at her with a knowing smirk. Instead, her face is full of concern. I step closer to her, sliding my hand up her arm, steadying her.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head, but she wrings her hands together once more.
“Nothing. I was… I just.…”
I stop my movement on her arm but don’t let go. Instead, I apply a little bit of pressure to keep her grounded. “Breathe.” I smile at the way she closes her eyes and does what I say without question. “Tell me what you want.”
Slowly, she opens her eyes, and they’re the most beautiful color. Blue with gray at the edges. It’s as if the bluest of seas has been cast in shadow from the clouds blocking out the sun. There’s a bit of mystery to them, as I almost can’t tell what she’s hiding behind them, but I know I shouldn’t be worried. Nothing she says will push me away or make me think differently about her.
Just like my father and his father before that, I’m stuck in the moment with her. Mama says it’s a pride thing,like a scent match or something where you only get one true mate. Or true love. One you’ll burn the world down to have. And when you know, you know. That’s how it’s been for all the Leone men thus far, if you ask my mama. My father called it something else, “just good timing.” He wasn’t the romantic in the family.
I don’t know what to call it. I just know not to question it.
“Can I dance for you? I’ve been… I mean, I did….” She closes her eyes and fists her hands at her sides as she builds her courage. It’s borderline adorable watching her struggle but then push through it. Like the true jewel she is.
Her eyes open, and I see the resolve in them. “I practiced. I’m better than… well, than before.”
I stare at her for a long moment. Not making a noise, hardly breathing. I process her words instantly, but the blood that drains to my cock takes every coherent thought along with it. All I’m left with is nodding once.
A nod that releases the tension in her shoulders. “Can I borrow your phone?”
I hand it over to her without question. She messes around with it before putting on a song. I take the phone back and adjust it so the music comes from the Bluetooth speakers in the wall.
“Where do you want me?”
She bites that delectable lip of hers, and I don’t resist the urge any longer. I reach my hand out and pinch her chin, slowly drawing her lip out from between her teeth. I want to lean in and bite it myself. Nibble on it as I kiss it, at the veryleast. But if I start this, then she can’t dance for me. And from the way she’s acting, she really wants to.
She practiced.
For me.
Maybe because I told her to do so, or perhaps just to get me in a chair, but does it matter? I’m the one who benefits. What she hasn’t realized yet is that I’ll be theonlyone seeing her like this.
Ever.
“Um, the couch?” she questions with a bit of a squeak at the end, and I can’t even hide my smile at her uncertainty.
My jacket is still unbuttoned from the car, and I keep it open as I sit but don’t touch anything else on me. If I start, I might not stop till I’m completely naked. Which would then require me to make Payton do the same since I wouldn’t want to be the only one in my birthday suit.
The music is a nice touch, but when she goes to the lights and dims them? Fuck if I don’t get harder. Her setting the mood is a fucking turn-on, though I know it’s not about a seduction game for me, but rather to prove she’s listening to my desire to get money out of her.
She probably “practiced” after seeing my gift. A gift that was just meant as that. When I left her last night, I felt bad. And the only way to keep me focused on work was to make sure I did something for her. First it was the tickets to the ballet. But that wasn’t enough. And honestly, if I plan to keep her here, she needs to do something more than dance in a three-by-three-foot area in a small part of my gym. I hardly spar, and if I need to, I can go someplace else or just put the mats back. Of course, I already moved the matscompletely out and had one of my guys donate them to a gym, but that’s beside the point.
I don’t help, just watch as she pushes the coffee table out of the way. Once she seems satisfied with the look of the room, I give her an eyebrow raise.
