Leon's Way Page 16

  Yeah, that was not the plan. “Sure, if you want to.” My reply is short and not at all genuine, a nuance that’s completely lost on Inga.

  “Wooh!” she shrieks, dancing as she puts my plates in the cupboards, mixing them with Leon’s. This I can’t watch. One thing is to put more of my clothes in Leon’s drawers and take some closet-hanging privileges. This, though—finding room for my cream-and-peach colored knick-knacks, cookware, and freaking paintings in his black-and-silver living space—is daunting.

  At one point, everyone but Kat has left the apartment. I stare at the pastel image of a mermaid. We’ve banged a nail deep into Leon’s flawless, white wall to hang it in between framed black-and-white Bruce Lee posters. I’m having a serious moment of doubt.

  “Katsu,” I groan. “I really don’t think Leon will be happy. What have we done? Jesus!” I point at the offending piece of art. “I adore this picture, but he’s going to flip. And what if he’d rather I not move in at all? We never asked him! Dammit, Kat—your brother’s a bit volatile. Especially with…”

  “Women?” She smiles big at me. “No, you’re different. There comes a time in every man’s life,” she sings in a serious, TV-drama voice, “where he finds his match in a female.” She winks and ends her story short with an imaginary drum fanfare before she points at me with a nonexistent stick.

  She’s funny. If it weren’t for the circumstances, I would have appreciated the humor. “Ah, I just wish we’d left some of my junk at the apartment. Really, what about this table?”

  The daintiest little piece made of salmon-colored lacquer stands next to Leon’s coffee table. His is sturdy, modern, with a steel frame and black accents.

  Kat squints, eyes darting between the two. “Mmyeah. We could find a better place for yours, maybe? Like, the guestroom.”

  We both grin. She’s entertained. Me? I start laughing out of nerves. The baby kicks, and I raise a hand to my side, touching an itty-bitty foot or elbow. “He seems to wake up whenever I laugh.”

  “What? The baby does?” Kat’s face brightens with awe. “Is he still moving?”

  “Yeah, you want to feel?”

  Kat lets out an excited whimper. “Are you kidding? Of course, I want to feel.”

  As her palm forms to the side of my belly, I think of how I haven’t done this with Leon yet. The baby’s been moving inside of me for a while now, and over the last couple of weeks, I’ve touched him from outside too. We’re always busy, though, at the club, and then I’ve been sleeping at home.

  Yeah, I understand Leon’s frustration. He has mentioned it several times, but it took Kat’s concise explanation for me to realize that he’s losing out on a lot right now.

  “He could play soccer,” Kat says. “He’s strong! Wow.”

  “Right? I bet no other babies kick this hard,” I joke, and she snorts. “You’re funny, Arria. Man, I hope Leon doesn’t blow it with you. I adore you, and I already hyper-love this crazy soccer player you’re brewing up.”

  “He might be the next Bruce Lee,” I suggest, jutting my chin up toward the posters that flank my peachy mermaid.

  “Like Daddy!” Kat has stars in her eyes. Literally.

  My cell buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and read Leon’s message.

  Are you okay? I’ve been calling. I’ll be back around 9.

  Shit! Oh, God.

  “What?” Kat widens her stare at me. “Something wrong?”

  “Yeah.” I suck in a breath to correct myself. “No, your brother’s returning early because I’ve missed some calls.”

  Kat chuckles. “Perfect.”

  “Yes, perfect!” Ingela shouts from the doorway, startling both of us. “Should I get balloons? Oh, oh! We can do the baby shower again and make a night out of it!”

  “Kat?” I plead, hoping she’ll have a reasonable response. Sure, I’ll suffer through the two of them seeing Leon’s reaction, but—to make a night out of it? I’m already a nervous wreck.

  “Inga, I think we’d better leave them to themselves.”

  I can tell Ingela is trying to figure out the underlying meaning to Katsu’s message. She’s having a hard time. “We could party, though?” she suggests.

  “Aren’t you working?” Kat asks sweetly, and Ingela frowns. “Yeah, but they’re here, upstairs! I’ll run up and down.” I want to laugh so hard. Of course Inga wants to party and work at the same time.

  “Sure. I bet they’ll want to try out the new bedroom setup, though.”

  I’m flushing. “Really, Kat?” I mouth.

  Ingela doesn’t think twice before answering. “Yes, but he’s hungry for her so they’ll be done fast, and then we can party!”

  My damn cheeks. They’re burning. Inga wants to wait out our sexcapades to party. Knowing her, she’d be fine hanging in the den in the meantime.

  A silent snicker escapes Kat. It makes her sound like her brother.

  I won’t be going into detail about the long-lasting joys of Leon’s attention, I think to myself. Not to Ingela, who believes sharing is caring, and not to his, um, sister!

  “Rain check, Inga,” Kat finally manages, “which means—some other day.”

  Kat is a natural with Ingela’s special brand of foreigner: giant, awkwardly used English vocabulary combined with a very… exotic culture. They’ll get along just fine.

  My manager at Choice came highly recommended, with tons of experience in the nightclub business. I hijacked him from a successful establishment up north, but you can’t be sure until you try them out. This one, he’s trustworthy and does the accounting all right. His marketing, however, seems random at best.

  What I know is that Ralph lacks connection with his employees, which causes hitches in the day-to-day routine. Three of my Smother staff relocated here after my New Year’s fiasco. They were all perfect for the business, and yet they’ve all moved on to new opportunities, the last guy a week ago. Whenever I come, Ralph’s got new staff, his selection not necessarily sound in the first place.

  A text ticks in from Arriane while I’m driving home. I glance at my cell in the passenger seat and catch I’m fine. Got a surprise for you. xx

  Strange message coming from her. The surprise better be good after today. The two Xs are promising. Virtual kisses, I guess.

  The first thing I’ll do at Smother is corner my girl and pull her with me to the office. I miss her body against me, and I’m going to get my fill of her tonight even if it’s not very private.

  I don’t get why she’s afraid of Kat walking in on us. I’ve told her—Kat would never enter my bedroom if the door is closed. I take mental notes of adding a lock. Yep, that’s definitely worth a try, I think and grin wryly at how I’m grappling for crumbs; maybe she’ll sleep over now and then if I do.

  Christian is running Smother for me tonight. My Choice days are my days off. Generally, I end up spending whatever time is left of the night at the club anyway, but I don’t mess with the responsibility I give him; Christian always finishes the job nicely.

  I pull into Smother at 9 p.m. sharp. Hop out of the car, give Jason a handshake at the door, and walk in. It’s not busy yet. Ingela waves at me from the bar, and Kat’s there too. It’s been a while since Kat’s just hung with the bartenders, and I’m pleased to see her this way. I give her shoulder a squeeze. I look around but can’t see Arriane.

  “Hey, Sis. My girl not here?” I ask.

  “Hmm,” Kat says through a short lull between songs. My DJ, Robin, bobs at a tune he’s got on his ear, raises a hand to me in greeting, and I nod back.

  “I think she went upstairs,” Kat says.

  I frown at that. Arriane hasn’t gone upstairs during work hours since she was sick. “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah, uh-huh.” Kat shrugs. I stare at her, trying to read her. She’s blank-faced, the way only I can be. Family. I shoot Ingela a look, and so does Kat.

  Ingela’s bursting with secrets. Happy secrets. She’s wringing her hands and ends up stuffing them into her jeans
pockets, ignoring the customer waving a twenty at her.

  I don’t have time for this. I spin and weave through the crowd, past the patio stairs and to the steps leading to my apartment. The door’s ajar?

  I don’t think. I take the stairs three at a time. Kat and Ingela—and Cameron? Are all at my heel, following as fast as they can. I stop at the top and turn, glaring at them. Ingela giggles, and Cam looks like he ended up on my stairs by accident.

  “Do you mind?” I snap.

  “Forgot something I need,” my sister quips back. I can’t intimidate her, and Ingela wouldn’t get it if I tried. Enough bullshit already.

  Adrenaline has me barging through the door with too much force, and beyond it, beyond it, I find…

  Arriane.

  She dons a red minidress and high heels. Her hair coils down over her breasts and to that sweet stomach. Mostly, though, she’s wearing a big, nervous grin. There’s something different in the apartment. I notice the scent first. It’s distinctly Arriane. A flowery-spicy smell I only get from burying my nose at the nape of her neck. Now, it surrounds me.

  I swipe the room with my stare.

  What the hell?

  My walls… they’ve got mermaid shit on them. Pink thingies mingle with my black pieces of art on the shelves above the TV. Five pairs of tiny women’s shoes in the hallway. A palm tree by the window—greenery scattered everywhere as a matter of fact.

  “Baby?” I ask, finding her eyes.

  Arriane’s smile wobbles a little bit. She’s worried. Her hands are folded tight over her stomach. “Do you like it?” she whispers.

  I walk up to her, hold her face with my hands and kiss plump, delicious lips. Tip her face up so I can lock her gaze. “Did you move in, Arria?”

  “I might have,” she titters. She’s still nervous but more at ease than before I kissed her. So I kiss her again.

  “Really?” I hum out. “You really, truly moved in?”

  “Yeah… sorry about the—”

  “—pink stuff throwing up all over my apartment?”

  “Check out your bedroom!” Ingela shouts from behind us. Right. I forgot that we had an audience. Turning, I pull Arriane into my arms and squeeze her into me.

  “You guys accomplices to all of this? Who splattered pink everywhere?” I can’t seem to keep my smile under control. It stretches across my face on its own.

  Ingela and Cam both point and start elbowing each other when they discover how the other person’s thrown them under the bus.

  “No, ’twas this gay here!” Ingela screams, while Cameron counters, “I like pussy too much to be gay, dork.”

  “You want to show me the bedroom, baby?” I murmur into Arriane’s ear. Her arm… it’s bare, and I’m giving her chills. Fuck. I can’t wait for the rest of her. Today’s a kickass fucking awesome day.

  She nods. Leans her head on my shoulder for a moment before she leads me to the bedroom. Our bedroom. “It’s different, sweetie,” she warns. “I can change it back.”

  Behind me, my sister and what seems like my entire staff follow us toward the bedroom. “How long will we have, um, visitors?” I whisper loudly to her.

  Her laughter is breathy. I hope to God I’m interpreting it correctly, that she’s ready to chuck them headfirst down the stairs so we can have alone-time.

  I stop in the doorway and stare. Sure is different. This room is also pink. “We have… what—statues?” I ask even though they can’t be missed.

  “Greek gods,” she giggles.

  “There’s an army of them,” I inform her, but she shakes her head. “Nope, only three. They’re just a bit big so they’re imposing.”

  “I’d say. I like the boobs.”

  “Right?” Cameron chimes in from the doorway.

  “That’s Aphrodite, the goddess of love,” my girl says, smiling.

  “Or the goddess of pretty boobs,” Cameron croons to Ingela. Without looking, I hear the smack she gives him upside an ear.

  I pull in a deep breath. Absorb how I’ve got some sort of see-through curtains draping high over my headboard. Matching blanket, and a fluffy rug on each side of the bed. It’s ridiculously feminine. Very Arria.

  “I love it,” I say because I’m smart, and I have sunk low. I’ll take whatever sleeping accommodations, as long as this girl, right here, lets me ravish her. And that’s about to happen in exactly two minutes.

  “You doooo?” Violet eyes sparkle with happiness, and no lie has ever been a better choice.

  “Of course, baby. You have great taste in… pink.”

  “Peach and cream.”

  “Right, exactly.”

  Kat bursts out laughing. My cue to spin and address everyone.

  “Guys, thank you so much for helping Arriane and being part of her surprise for me. I’m blown away. Now, scram. Thanks.”

  “Aww.” Of course Ingela is disappointed. As they say their goodbyes and walk down the hallway, away from us, Cameron mumbles to Ingela, “So you’d like to be part of a threesome with them, huh? What’s wrong with my threesomes?”

  “No, booger-head. I just wanted to party,” is her reply.

  “Tomato—tomato,” Cameron says.

  The apartment door closes behind them, muffling Robin’s music downstairs. I push Arriane to the bed and give her knees a light nudge so that she sits on the mattress at the bottom.

  “Stay,” I tell her. I stride out and lock the apartment door. Then, I purposely let the door to our bedroom stay wide open. “See? No one’s here. No one’s coming in. The front door is locked, and you and I?” I take a pause for effect, long enough for Arriane to reply with a “What?”

  “You and I can make love on every surface of the entire apartment. It’s ours, only ours—” I frown.

  Shit. Katsu.

  Arriane’s smile widens. “Are you thinking about your sister?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Well, I locked. She’ll leave us be.”

  “Go check out her bedroom.”

  I don’t ask why. Instead I stalk down the corridor to the guestroom, fling the door open, and find none of my sister’s clothes, makeup, or computer equipment. It’s filled to the brim with pink shit!

  “Yes.” I growl. “Yes. Yes. YES!”

  I return to our bedroom. Back Arriane onto the bed again. “Did I not order you to stay put?” I hiss against her throat.

  “Yeah,” she gasps, so ready for me.

  I hoist her ass up so I can pull her skirt above her belly. She leans on her elbows, watching my ravenous stare as I take in golden thighs, the way her stomach swells over small panties. “God, you are gorgeous,” I whisper. “I fucking need you so bad right now.”

  “You do?” Her voice is light, dreamy, and I want to devour it too.

  “Yeah. You drive me crazy. Finally, you’re here.” I lick her belly. “What happened?” I ask between mouthfuls of her. She lifts up, letting me pull her thong off.

  “Your sister—she’s moving into my apartment.”

  I rumble a laugh as I yank her dress over her head. My girl’s chest is heaving, unsure of what I’ll do next. Exactly how I like it.

  Her bra. It’s huge now. I’m a lucky man who gets to cup these delicious tits and squeeze them inside this new, enormous frame. I lose patience fast, though, because I need my mouth on them.

  “Your old apartment must be empty by now,” I murmur, not caring in the least. “No pink shit left for my sister.”

  “Ingela’s got plenty, plus I left the big stuff behind,” she stutters out. At this point, I’m beyond listening. Her mouth can move—that’s fine. I’ll keep it moving. Gasping. Fucking squealing.

  Her knee… I bend it up enough to enjoy the sight of her ass. At first, I caress it lightly, and then I give her a playful slap.

  “I won’t hurt you, baby.” I whisper the reminder to us both. I crawl in close. Work to get my pants off fast enough and allow my cock to spring out the way it wants to.

  “All night,” I promise her. “All. Night
.”

  We haven’t even started, and she’s whimpering for me.

  I’m a teenager. “Shit, Arria. I, ah… miss being inside of you.”

  She spreads golden thighs for me. Above them, her breasts ripple, brown areolas puffy with ripeness. “Please,” she whispers.

  I climb on top of her, ease my dick into her slowly. Her stomach is in the way, and it’s cute, beautiful, sexy all at once. I make sure I don’t lie down on her. As I slide in and out, building the desire in both of us, I lean on an elbow, watching her lips part in little pants.

  “Baby, you like this,” I tell her. “You love it when I take you slow. Can you feel me?”

  Of course she can. Her hips rise against me. Meet me, help me. “I… do.”

  My girl tightens around me, the best sensation in the world. “Is it good right now?” I tease her, knowing she’d rather not talk.

  Her breath is erratic, and I lean in to catch her gasps with my kisses. Suck on her tongue, insist. I’m in her face—in her pleasure. So hard.

  “Hmm? Do you want me to stop?” I ask when she doesn’t answer me.

  “No,” she whimpers, bowing against me in her climax. I link both arms around the small of her back and wrench her into me, riding her, riding her.

  “There,” I soothe, my lips at my woman’s ear, puffing through my own climax. I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, because it’s too much.

  When I shudder, she takes me. She receives my release and my moans. She clamps her arms around my body and pulls me in so tight I almost worry about the baby. There’s a sob in her voice. I hear it, and I should worry about that too. I can’t, though. I’m still relishing how the stress pours from me. The tension of months together without ever really having her.

  I need her.

  Is she mine now?

  “I love you,” she whispers to me. “I love you. I love you.”

  Everything I own is too small. None of my pants can be pulled up even close to covering what Leon calls a “healthy belly.” Healthy indeed. And it’s only going to get healthier.

  “This one?” Leon asks from the opposite side of Big & Beautiful. Quite the name for a store. In such a tiny town, the choices of stores for pregnant women are few, and this one caters to all ages and upper sizes.