“Lief,” I beg.
But he steps out of the shower and holds up a fresh towel for me. I step into it and feel him tighten it around me before he nudges my legs apart and uses the towel to rub between my legs. I shiver and bite my lip.
“You’re killing me.”
He stands up, cups his hand around the back of my neck and holds me just far enough away that I can’t kiss him, but I can feel his breath. “When I leave, I want you still thinking of me.”
“It’s impossible not to think of you.” Honesty comes easily.
But I’m not allowed to kiss him, to touch him, nothing until he’s dressed. Then he jerks me against him and gives me a kiss that mysoulfeels. Crushing me against his mouth and taking everything. All I can do is react, moan, try to beg for more with my tongue and hope it doesn’t end.
Lief threads his fingers through my hair and pulls me back to bite my bottom lip. “I want you to be able to remember me without a sticky-note.”
“I will.” I cling to him. “One more time?”
He considers it, then his lips turn up. “Moderation, Valerie.”
And with that, he’s out the door, leaving me a panting, breathless mess. We fucked three times and I still want more. I want his hands on me, I want more satisfaction. I groan as I fall back in bed, then jump up to lock the door to find he already took care of that.
I take a picture of myself with the towel open, only covering my pussy, and send it to Lief.
The response is immediate.
LIEF: Next time.
I groan and bury my face in my pillow. But when I turn the lights out, planning on going a solo session, but I’m too comfortable, too tired, too … pleased. I fall right asleep. When I get up, I scramble to grab my things when I see the time, only to notice it’s Sunday.
Sighing, I drop back in bed. Turning, I stretch in bed before smiling. Lief didn’t need to be worried about me forgetting him. How could I possibly forget that toe curling night? From wild beginning to frustrating end, every detail is etched into my head. The sounds he made as he was inside me, the way he gave me his entire, unflinching attention all night, and every bit of pleasure he gave.
He spoiled me right up to the end. And then that no to another round, him not letting me do the taking care of … Who knew being denied could be so hot?
I take the day to focus on myself and take care of things at home, drinking so much water I’m sloshy, making myself a full meal to satisfy my growling belly, and cleaning, even though I want to leave my pillow cases because they smell like Lief. It feels silly, but when I press a pillow to my face and smell that mix of spice and earthy tones, I moan and give in.
Collapsing in bed, I check my phone. Elaine asks me how my night ended Friday with a winky face and I laugh and send her a zipper faced emoji. I’m not sharing a damn thing about Lief.
But the text from Chase is a little more demanding.
CHASE: I can’t stop thinking about how you taste.
My legs tighten painfully and I whimper
VALERIE: Are you free this weekend? You’ll have more than a taste.
We leave it at that and then I check the news, preparing for any new clients. Lo and behold, the bane of my existence and his brother are on the front page. I snort to myself and pull my blanket tighter around me.
“Millionaire playboys were seen leaving a strip club with smiles on their faces and no ones in their pockets.” I roll my eyes.
It’s not fair, I know. I shouldn’t expect Chase or Hunter to only get their kicks with me, but still. A strip club? Really? After asking me how to help get information out of a friend? But I see another picture of them with a guy who isn’t Lief.
Of course, it’s not Lief. Lief was here for ninety percent of the night showing me exactly how much like heaven torture can feel. I do a reverse image search on the guy and find his name.
Stefano Rossi. Rossi … that name feels familiar, but the article fills me in. Heir to an empire of money, rumors, and old time – obviously cut – mafia life. I rub my thumb over my bottom lip, then bite the nail without breaking it.
“Why would Hunter want information from you?” I murmur.
My phone rings, making me jump and I rub my eyes before I answer it on speaker. “Hello?”
“Saturday?” Chase asks.