9

Leo

Weeks later, I’m practicing Jiu-Jitsu with Jimmy when I notice Enya hovering over us. I flip the kid over and clamber off him. Jiu-Jitsu is skill-based, and being bigger doesn’t necessarily mean being better, but with the level of body mass difference between Jimmy and me, he doesn’t stand much chance of coming out on top. He’s not scrawny, but he’s all lean muscle while I’ve got brawn.

“What’s going on?” I ask Enya as I roll onto my butt and look up at her.

She dithers for a moment, which is unlike her. She may not always be as aggressive as Seth’s sister, Harley, but she’s direct. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what’s happening with Cami’s show. I wasn’t sure whether to mention it or not, since it might be a sore point. Is she doing okay?”

Lead sinks to the bottom of my stomach. “What do you mean?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “The influencer. You don’t know?”

I scramble to my feet and put my hands on my hips. “Know what?”

She pulls a face. “Some asshole on social media is calling for people to boycott the show because Cami is the sister of a drug cheat.” She hesitates, then adds, “And he insinuates she’s probably dating another one. He’s calling her designs ‘junkie chic.’”

I try to swallow but my throat feels thick. Shame bubbles in my gut. I’d worried people might view my connection with Camile as another reason to doubt my innocence in the City Fight Center drug scandal, but it never occurred to me I could taint her in the same way. Fuck, I’m self-centered. I encouraged her to reach for her dreams, and now I might be the reason they’re snatched away. I only hope nobody approaches Karson for a comment because after how I told him to fuck off when he confronted me about dating his sister, he might say something spiteful just to mess with us. He’s vindictive like that.

“Does this influencer guy have many followers?”

“I wish I could say not, but he does. He’s a bit of an extremist, and you know how those types are. Their fans are die-hard loyalists.”

“That’s messed up,” Jimmy grouses. “People shouldn’t talk shit when they don’t know anything about it.”

“I have to go.”

I hurry to the locker where I keep my phone during training and grab it. A quick Google search leads me to several hits. I click the top one and scan the text. My stomach rolls uncomfortably. Has Camile seen this? It will devastate her. I pocket the phone and snatch the rest of my belongings, then knock on Seth’s office door. I wait for him to respond. I learned the hard way not to barge in, in case he’s with Ashlin.

“Come in.”

I stick my head around the door. “I need to leave. Something has come up.”

He nods. “You done everything you have to?”

“Not weights yet, but I’ll use my own at home.”

“You’d better. I’ve nearly got this fight with Ricky locked in.”

“Great.” I should be more enthusiastic, considering how badly I’ve wanted that fight, but I’m too preoccupied by thoughts of Camile. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do.”

“See you.” I nod in parting and dodge out the side exit. My mind races as I make my way to my car. The drive to Camile’s apartment—where she’s been working during the day since she finished with her previous job—seems to take forever. Finally, I park in the underground lot, get one of the neighbors to buzz me in, and take the stairs to her level. I pause in the corridor outside, wondering how I want to play this. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll put some distance between us in the lead-up to the show, and the thought of that makes me want to scream. It’s so fucking unfair. Neither of us had anything to do with her brother’s mess and yet, we’re both paying the price.

“Leo?” I turn and find her standing behind me, the key to the apartment clutched in her hand. “Shouldn’t you still be at the gym?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh.” She stiffens. “What?”

I gesture toward the door. “Maybe you should go in and sit down.”

Her mouth tightens. “You’re freaking me out. What is it?”

Reaching over, I take the key from her and slot it into the lock, then I place my palm on her lower back and guide her in. We sit side by side on the sofa, and I clasp her hand in mine. God, I wish I didn’t have to be the one to break the news.

“Some asshole online is calling your designs junkie chic and asking people to boycott your show because of me and Karson.”

Her expression doesn’t change, and that’s when I realize: she already knows. What the hell?

“He’s a sports guy,” she says. “His following doesn’t overlap much with my target audience.”

How can she be so calm about this?

“But what if his message spreads? What if he has connections?”

“Then we’ll deal with whatever happens, but at the moment, nothing has.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m so sorry, Cami. This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” She gently removes my hand from my face so she can look at me. “It’s Karson’s fault. He’s the one who made both of us look dirty. This isn’t on you.”

I press my lips together, knowing she’s technically correct, but in my soul, I feel responsible. I knew we had the potential to damage each other’s reputations. I just figured her connection to Karson would end up impacting mine, and I was prepared to take the risk. I didn’t expect it to happen the other way around.

“Why didn’t you mention it?” I ask.

“Because I knew you’d react this way.” She waves a hand up and down my body as if to say “case in point.” “But it’s not a big deal, and making it one just gives that loser more credit than he deserves. Don’t let it get to you.”

I clench my teeth. All the well-meaning platitudes in the world won’t undo the damage he might have already done. But we can get out in front of it and do damage control. “Would it help if we made a public announcement that I’m not affiliated with your fashion line? Maybe I need to keep a low profile so people realize you’re more than just an extension of Karson or me. Whatever we need to do, tell me.” I hate feeling helpless. “Even if it means I can’t come to the show. I’ll stay away to protect you.”

Camile flinches and her eyes shine with reproach. Damn, I’m already hurting her and all I’m trying to do is make it better.

Camile

I can’t believe Leo would even consider not coming to my first fashion show. Especially when he’s the reason it’s happening. Without him, I can’t be certain I’d have had the guts to approach investors in the first place.

“You’re coming,” I tell him, not allowing a smidgen of uncertainty into my voice. “I’ve had a lifetime of people overlooking me or not being there for me, and I refuse to let you be one of them.”

His face falls. “Baby, I promise, that’s not what it’s about.”

I raise my chin and fight really hard not to waver. “I want you to come. My parents are never going to be as supportive as I’d like, but having you on my team for the past few weeks has meant everything.” I rub my chest, feeling an ache deep within it. “I’m falling for you, Leo, and that’s more important than whether a handful of people boycott my event out of some misguided sense of justice.” When something dark flickers across his expression, I add an entreaty. “Isn’t it?”

He softens. “Of course.” His arm wraps around my shoulders and he draws me close. I lean into his strong chest and enjoy how protected he makes me feel. He’s so big. So solid. And so very sexy. “It’s just not right. People shouldn’t be able to act as judge, jury, and executioner with no proof.”

I sigh. Honestly, the influencer’s crusade bothers me too, but Lena has already promised to balance it out with some positive articles, and other than that, there’s nothing we can do, so there’s no point in stressing. “That’s how the court of public opinion works.”

He kisses my forehead. “It sucks.”

I giggle because he’s not wrong. “I know. But please don’t let it keep you away from the show. I need your support.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, but his brow is furrowed, and I know he’s still mulling it over. I’m getting better at figuring out when his brain is stuck on a hamster wheel because he gets this annoyed, faraway look. “Whatever you need, baby.”

I smooth my thumb over his forehead. “Everything will be okay.”

The crinkle forms again almost immediately. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Sensing that’s the best I’m going to get out of him for now, I press my lips to his and tease my tongue along the seam of his mouth. He groans and grasps my face so he can deepen the kiss.

“I want you so bad,” I murmur. Over the past few weeks with Leo, I’ve grown more comfortable with my sexuality. He’s proven he likes me as I am in every way that matters.

“Same.” He groans as I reach between us and cup his cock. “God, yes. More.”

I rub the growing bulge his shorts don’t do much to contain. When his breathing becomes ragged, I slip my hand beneath the waistband and into his briefs. I fist his cock and stroke it slowly enough that his hips jerk, seeking more.

His eyes find mine. They’re dark with desperation. “Please, Cami. Need you.”

Yes. I love the way this man makes me feel. I’m already wet for him, and desire soaks my panties as I watch him struggle to take what I’m giving without overpowering me. He’s riding the edge of control. My favorite place for him to be. I release his cock and it thumps against his belly, smearing precum on his shirt. He throws his head back and curses. But before he has time to make demands, I lift my skirt, shove my ruined panties to the side, and straddle him.

“Fuck.” He grips my thighs and shifts me into place above his throbbing dick. I encircle it with my fingers and guide myself, sinking onto him inch by inch as he fills me. We’ve been going without condoms for a few days now because we’re both free of STIs and I’m taking protection, but the sensation still overwhelms me. A shudder racks my body. He’s so hard and hot. I can feel each pulse as he fights to hold on to control.

I whimper. “I’m so full of you.”

“You’re so tight, baby.” His voice is soft but strained. “So goddamn snug. Like your pussy was made for me.”

I place my hands on his chest and ride him, working myself up and down his cock, feeling the drag of his thick shaft against my clit. Every time he bottoms out inside me, I feel like he’s touching my heart. I watch his face, enthralled by the harsh lines and shadows.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, reaching between us to thumb my clit. “Take what you need.”

Sensation winds tighter and tighter within me. My body draws taut like a bow string. I work my hips faster and capture his mouth for an intense kiss.

“I’m going to—Oh God!”

“Yeah.” His fingertips sink deeper into my hips. “Come on my cock. It’s the only cock you’re ever going to come on again.”

His possessive words send me careening over a precipice. My channel flutters around him, and I scream as an orgasm consumes me. He thrusts furiously and then stiffens and grits out my name. I feel liquid heat scorching my insides and shiver in the knowledge that he’s branded me as his.

I am his.

Every part of me belongs to Leo Delaney.

But I belong to myself too. Because even as I lie panting against his chest, cracks are appearing in the blissful world we’ve been building. I clutch him and pray our relationship won’t crumble. But if it does, I’ll survive, because I finally know who I am, and that woman is strong and capable. I’m never going back to the woman I used to be.