Broken Course (35 page)

"Fuck," I whisper as she pushes a single finger inside her heat. God, I’d give anything to feel her. I know exactly how tight that pussy is and how good it feels milking my cock.

I quicken the pace over my shaft as I watch her add another finger.

"Talk to me," she says, using her other hand to glide over her breasts.

"You are fucking beautiful. Christ. I’d give anything to fuck your tits right now."

"Mmm. My tits, huh?" She sits up, pushing her breasts into the camera.

"Yep. I’m going to come on them as soon as I get back. I want to see you covered in me." I switch hands so I can tilt the camera down to give her a better view.

"Fuck, baby," she breathes, lying back down with her eyes glued to the screen.

"Circle your clit. I want you to come for me now,
ángel
."

She quickly follows my direction and licks the finger on her other hand before dropping it between her legs. I move my hand over my cock with the same rhythm of her fingers.

"Come on your stomach. I want to watch," she demands between moans.

My pace quickens as I feel the orgasm traveling up from my balls. I’m close, and I fight to keep my eyes open. I want to see her face.

"Oh fuck. God, Sarah." My release lands right where directed and she lets out an approving moan.

Not a second later, I watch as she loses herself in her own high. She doesn’t utter my name. Instead, she whispers a string of unrecognizable expletives as an orgasm courses through her body.

She silently relaxes against the bed, and I head to the bathroom, snagging a washcloth to clean myself off. As soon as I settle back in the picture, Sarah lets out a laugh.

"Fine. You can come on my tits. That was hot."

"Oh, I was coming on your tits whether you agreed or not." I laugh and roll to my side, taking the computer with me.

"Why do you have to travel so much? I miss you," she whines.

"Well, it won’t be as bad next month. Things should plateau off pretty soon. I have enough men now, I think. They can travel for jobs and I’ll be able to stay at home more."

"Good."

"Hey, next week, I have to be down in Florida for a meeting. You want to come with me? We can shut down the office and just have a couple of days to ourselves," I ask.

She smiles excitedly. "You love to take me places, don’t you?"

"I just like being with you," I respond honestly.

"Well, I can’t deprive you of that then."

"Okay, good. I’ll have my secretary buy your ticket tomorrow." I wink.

"Hilarious. If you expect me to do it, I’m buying myself first class," she answers before changing the topic to something random.

We spend the next hour lying in bed naked, talking about how quickly we can get Sarah moved into my apartment. She tries to convince me to wait the two months until her lease is up, but I refuse. I’m more than willing to buy it out. If I had my way, I’d hire movers first thing in the morning, but she refuses, stating that we need to work out the details a little better. I promptly decide to hold her hostage at my place until then.

One week later…

"EVERYTHING OKAY?" I ask as Leo drops his keys on the dresser of a lavish hotel in Florida.

"Yeah, why? What’s wrong?" He eyes me suspiciously.

"Nothing. I was just worried. I thought your meeting was over, like, an hour ago."

"It was, but I had to make some stops. No big deal. Just work shit." He removes his suit jacket and walks to the bed to kiss me. "You look gorgeous," he says, raking his eyes over my chest.

Upon Leo’s insistence, I went shopping today and bought a new dress for tonight. It didn’t take much convincing. Now that we are moving in together, the old purse strings have loosened up a bit. He tried to give me his credit card, but I enjoyed paying for the short, emerald-green cocktail dress myself, even if it is Leo’s hand writing my paycheck.

"Thanks. You look pretty nice too." I pull his baby-blue tie, dragging him down for another kiss.

"
Cásate conmigo
," he whispers as he releases my mouth.

"Will you teach me some Spanish?" I ask. "I hate not understanding you when you say stuff like that. And I know you lie to me when I ask."

He laughs and nods. "Of course. Although I’m not sure what’s Spanish for ‘y’all,’" he teases before stepping away. "We’re going to be late. I made early reservations so we could go out and hit some of the nightlife later."

"Oh, that sounds great. Let’s go." I stand up in my four-inch heels, meeting Leo almost eye to eye. In these shoes, he’s only an inch or so taller than I am. He doesn’t back away, even when I try to take a step around him.

"New shoes too?" he asks, brushing the hair off my shoulder.

"I
needed
them," I explain. "Which reminds me. I
need
a raise too." I turn my head, and he trails wet kisses up my neck, sending chills over my body.

"
Cásate conmigo
," he repeats into my ear.

"What does that mean?" I grab his biceps to balance.

He leans away with a full-blown megawatt smile and answers, "I’ll tell you later. Let’s go eat." Grabbing my hand, he pulls me from the room.

"WOW. THIS place is gorgeous," I say as we walk into a stunning restaurant that overlooks the beach.

"See, aren’t you glad I talked you into getting a new dress?" He smiles, resting a hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the maître d’. "Leo James. We have reservations," he tells the older gentleman, who leads us to a table right by the large bay windows.

"I feel like we’re eating on the beach," I tell Leo as he pulls out my chair.

"I think that’s the idea,
ángel
."

The menus are placed in front of us and I begin studying the entrées as Leo orders a bottle of wine.

Growing up in Savannah, I was exposed to every possible seafood you can imagine. I loved it all. Fresh shrimp and fish are some things I’ve missed while living in Chicago. As my eyes race over the menu, my stomach lets out an audible growl.

"You hungry?" he jokes.

"Well, I didn’t think I was, but the sight of this seafood section has changed my mind." I glance up to find his menu closed and resting on the table in front of him. His smoldering eyes are locked on me. "You already know what you’re getting?" I ask curiously, wondering how the hell he could have possibly decided that fast.

"How about you just order two meals and we can share? I think you are frothing at the mouth." He laughs.

"It all just looks really good." I go back to reading the menu and moan when my eyes find shrimp with truffled grits.

"I can tell." He laughs again, reaching out to hold my hand.

"Okay, it’s decided. You are getting the salmon and scallops because they are calling my name. And I’m getting the shrimp and grits because what kind of Southern girl would I be if I didn’t?" I look up to find him watching me intently once again.

"Whatever you want,
ángel
." He interlocks our fingers and rests them on the table.

The waiter shows up with the wine, but Leo never releases my hand. We fall into comfortable conversation with his thumb lazily stroking mine.

When dinner arrives, I have to fight my hand out of his grasp. Just as I suspected, the food is amazing. It isn’t until I am halfway done with the grits that Leo informs me that he doesn’t like salmon or scallops. I want to be annoyed with him for not having told me before I ordered, but he just shrugs and pushes his plate toward me. I, on the other hand, do love salmon and scallops, so I gladly switch with him.

As he polishes off my grits, I may fall in love with him all over again. He tells me how his grandmother used to cook grits when he was a kid. Finding a man in Chicago who loves grits may very well be as rare as hitting the lottery, but somehow, I did it. Maybe karma doesn’t hate me after all.

"As an employee of Guardian Protection Agency, I am officially volunteering to accompany you on all further business excursions to Florida. That was delicious." I place my napkin on the table and take the last sip of my wine while Leo pays the bill.

"Well, as the owner of Guardian Protection Agency, you are welcome to join me on all further business excursions to…well, everywhere." He pauses before lifting my hand and kissing my palm. "
Cásate conmigo, ángel
."

"Please tell me what that means? That’s, like, the third time you’ve said it tonight."

He ignores my question and stands up, using my hand to pull me to my feet beside him. "You want to go down to the beach?"

"Only if you promise to speak in English."

"No promises." He winks and leads me from the restaurant.

We walk down the long boardwalk toward the beach. It’s the middle of the week, so there are only a few people milling around. We both remove our shoes, and Leo stashes them under the boardwalk before heading into the sand.

"God, look how big the moon is," I sigh just as my toes touch the water.

"It’s a beautiful night." Leo wraps his arms around me from behind and drags his nose up my neck. I suck in a deep breath, reveling in the mixture of his scent and the salt in the air. "
Cásate conmigo
," I feel him say against my skin.

"Okay. You are really starting to freak me out with that. Please just tell me what that means. I feel like you’re calling me fat or something." I turn to face him, and Leo bursts out laughing.

"I’m definitely not calling you fat,
ángel
."

"You know what? Fine. I’m going to Google it." I look down and realize that I didn’t bring a purse. "Give me your phone," I demand, snapping my fingers at him, making him laugh again.

When he hands over his phone, I quickly bring up the search engine.

"Okay, now can you spell it?" I ask when my first attempt at phonetics doesn’t return any results.

Leo shoves his hands in his pockets, and I swear I can see the ripples of his muscles thought his shirt. It’s almost distracting as he begins to rattle off consonants and vowels, but I forge ahead. I click enter and stumble back a step as the translation flashes on the screen.

Marry me.

My pulse spikes as my eyes fly to Leo, who’s watching me with a nervous grin.

"I…um…think Google is broken," I rush out then quickly hand him his phone and speed-walk down the beach.

Oh my fucking God. Is he proposing? Surely, ‘marry me’ must mean something else in Spanish. Fuck, his first language is English! Maybe his Spanish isn’t as good as I thought. Maybe he thinks it’s some sort of term of endearment like
ángel
or
mi cielo
. Maybe he—

"Sarah." He interrupts my inner panic attack by grabbing my arm from behind. "Stop overthinking this. Let me explain."

I let out a relieved breath. "Oh thank God. I thought you were about to propose." I laugh and wipe away the tears that started to form in my eyes.

"No, I
am
proposing. I’m just not okay with letting Google do it for me."

"Oh my God," I squeak, throwing my hands up to cover my mouth. "Leo, I, um…" I begin to stutter.

"Shh. It’s my turn to talk." He grabs my hand, and my vision begins to swim. Dropping to a knee, he pulls out a ring I can barely make out among the unshed tears.