I still remembered what it was like to meet Leo for the very first time. I’d lost count of the number of useless work functions Chris had dragged me to over the years. The endless monotony that came with all his work events blended together like an ad from an antidepression pill commercial. More often than not, those were the only times I was allowed to leave the house.
As my years with Chris dragged on, I had lost all will to even want to pretend to enjoy myself during those outings. Most of the time, I didn’t even know what the event was for. It always seemed to be some kind of award show for his company or a Christmas party or some other sorry excuse for his employees to spend lewd amounts of company money.
But the night I met Leo would forever be ingrained in my memory. Even if I didn’t want it to exist anymore, it would always be there.
That particular event had been the company’s annual New Year’s Eve party. I still remember I had taken up residence at the open bar like it was my right to do so. I was on my fourth dirty martini for the night and I was trying desperately to find the bottom of that bottle. It had been months since I told my parents what had happened to me and yet there I was. Still stuck in an abusive marriage.
I gulped down the last of my martini and scarfed down the olives. I placed the empty glass on the bar and tapped my nose toward the bartender. She gave me what seemed to be a sad smile as she grabbed the glass and started to refill it.
“Extra olives this time, please.” The pretty female raised a regal eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “I skipped dinner.” I smirked.
“You know, if you just wanted a jar of olives, I’m sure they’d be able to give them to you,” a deep sensual voice raked over me as if I were an exposed nerve.
I turned in my seat and assessed the bulking form that stood behind me. I was probably a little tipsy at that point as his good looks didn’t even really sink in until later that evening. I think the fact that I was so far past my limit of putting up with people’s bullshit made me roll my eyes at him and turn back around.
“Better yet, we could go raid the vending machines I saw down the hall,” he said. He slid into the seat next to mine and faced me fully. The first thing to seep through my liquor-soaked brain was his scent of bourbon and cedar. If I had been in a better mood I would have said his scent invited me in. But I wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone that night.
The bartender placed my glass in front of me, this time with three olives instead of two. How generous of her. “I’m not in the mood to deal with yet another one of the almighty Christopher Hasting’s lackeys. Kindly fuck off,” I said as I brought my glass back to my lips. When I heard his booming laughter I turned back toward him in shock.
I was used to Chris’s friends always making passes at me. It was like they had a running bet to see which one would be able to sway me toward them. I always shut them down. Chris never so much as blinked when it happened. It was as if he knew I would always be faithful to him for fear of what would happen if he found out I was less than the compliant, devoted housewife he married.
Even though none of this was new to me, this time was different. This one was different. The man that sat next to me didn’t call me a bitch and stalk away like all the rest. This one laughed and smiled at me like I was the most intriguing creature he’d ever come across. This guy was the complete opposite of the rest.
Now that I really looked at him, I mean truly looked at him, I became curious myself. He wasn’t dressed like the other business partners and employees were. He wore a simple fitted t-shirt and faded jeans. His hair was an unruly mop and his face was covered in a thick beard. His eyes sparkled with laughter as he looked me up and down with an appreciative gaze.
“So, the princess has claws.” He chuckled.
For the first time in a long time, I felt a grin tug at my lips. I slowly turned in my seat and crossed my legs. I held my glass between my thumb and forefinger and twirled it around and around as I stared at him. He looked at me with no small amount of heat in his gaze. I felt the urge to clench my thighs together as an unfamiliar feeling took root in my core.
“I’m far from a pampered princess,” I scoffed before nodding in Chris’s direction. He stood proudly in the middle of his friends looking like the King of Shit Mountain. His three-piece designer suit had been tailored to his exact measurements making him appear immaculate. If you didn’t know the narcissist that lived beneath those fancy distractions, you would say he was everything you wanted or wanted to be. His inner circle surrounded him like they were fighting for the right to be the first to kiss his ass tonight. “You’re not like the others.” I eyed them wearily.
Mr. Casual shook his head without taking his eyes off me. “I’ll take that as a compliment. If I ever become half as needy as any of those poor fuckers, I would hope someone would put me out of my misery.” He finally glanced over at the group and pointed to the tall lanky man next to Chris. “That one with the pained expression, Clark I think. He’s so desperate for Chris’s attention it looks like the poor guy has a pole shoved directly up his ass,” he joked.
I laughed at that. It was refreshing to speak to someone in a place like this who was so … real. I kept the smile on my lips as I played with the toothpick that held my three olives in my drink. Picking it up and tapping it against the side of my glass before slowly bringing the garnish to my lips. I watched his eyes follow the movement of my tongue darting out to grab the olive and slide it off the stick. I’d gone from being miserable to having fun with this stranger.
“So what do you do?” I asked him as I placed the remaining olives back into the liquid.
He seemed to think about his answer as he leaned forward in his seat. I don’t know what possessed me to lean forward as well. “You could say I’m a bodyguard of sorts.” He smiled a secret smile I didn’t quite understand.
I placed my drink on the bar and forgot about my mission to get drunk for the rest of the night. I faced the bodyguard again and held out my hand. He grinned and chuckled as he grabbed it and made a show of shaking it with fake seriousness.
“Emily,” I said.
“Leo,” he said and smiled. We stopped our handshake and he held onto me for longer than necessary.
I thought he’d introduced himself because he was overcome with the need to talk to me. Maybe he had seen the lonely person I had become and wanted to help me. I was so wrong.
When I remembered that night and how he had only approached me because I was a job to him, it made it easier to come to terms with my present predicament.
I hadn’t left my room for the last three days. I had all my meals delivered to my suite and hadn’t left once. Opting to be in solitude rather than face the man that had once again wrecked me.
The evening we arrived here, after the heavy petting in the walkway, I slammed the door in Leo’s face and then promptly ignored his muffled voice on the other side. I had all but plugged my ears as I walked into the massive bathroom in my suite, started the shower, and walked in without caring if it was warm. I was so emotionally spent I didn’t even take my clothes off until I’d sat under the stream for a few minutes.
Even over the water’s spray, I’d still been able to hear Leo’s pleas through that damn door. He had begged me to open it, to talk to him about the past. He claimed he had no idea what I was talking about.
I had only exited the shower when the pleas stopped. I’d wrapped myself in the big fluffy robe provided by the resort and exited the steam-filled room. Turning out all the lights on my way to the massive bed before curling up on top of the pillowy duvet.
I was all dried up from my earlier explosion but I was still just as miserable. I’d lay and stared toward the door that separated the interior of our suites. I had to assume the door connected families who wanted to stay close to one another. But, right now that door only served as a reminder of all my mistakes
In the dark of my room, I’d heard a rustle outside that door before light flooded under the crack. I’d watched more intently than I liked to admit, waiting for a glimmer or a shadow of the man that occupied the other side.
When two shadows of legs crept along the bottom, my stupid heart leapt into my throat. He stood on the other side of the door for a long time after that. Never knocked. Never spoke. Just stood there. If I listened closely, I could almost hear him breathing.
I had stared for so long my eyes started to wane before I could stop them. They only sprung open when I heard a slight thump against the door. When I looked back in that direction, those two shadows had turned into one big one. Then another thump had sounded. As if he was leaning against the door and laid his head back a little too forcefully.
I’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep while Leo sat on the other side of that door.
When I woke, his shadow was gone.
The next few days had been spent in solitude. I didn’t speak to anyone but the room service workers. I ate in silence, hearing movement from Leo’s room now and again. The only sign he was even still there was the sound of his door opening and closing. Whether he was going to get food or meeting with his contacts, I didn’t know.
He’d only knocked on my door a few times, trying to get me to talk to him. Trying to see if I was still alive. I never answered him.
I would sit in front of my computer day in and day out. Staring at the damned blinking cursor until I would get so mad at myself, I’d slam the screen closed and push it further down the bed.
Liam had texted me a few times over the last couple of days. I’d ignored him at first and then realized he deserved better than that. It wasn’t his fault I was in a bad mood. I’d gone through the motions of talking with him but nothing sparked as I did. I had the feeling this was how my life would be from now on. Anytime a man would show interest in me, I wouldn’t be able to move past the one I shouldn’t want.
When I wasn’t trying to write or texting Liam, I spent most of my time soaking in the bathtub with only my thoughts to keep me company. Wishing I wasn’t such a fucking coward. I was in this beautiful place with all these areas to survey and explore, but I refused to leave my room because of the man next door.
The only time I’d seen him was when he would emerge to his terrace. I would cower onto the huge bed and watch him from a distance at first. The windows along the sliding glass patio doors were tinted on the outside. Allowing whoever was inside to look out, but if you were outside you couldn’t see in.
I’d watched him every day these last three days as he stripped his shirt over his head before plunging into our private pool in nothing but his swim trunks. I couldn’t even lie to myself, I had sat there and drank in every one of his details like he was a bottle of water and I was in the desert.
The way his hair slicked back when he got it wet reminded me of all the times we had showered together in that tiny stall at the motel. The water along his tan, inked skin, gracefully glided over all those bulges and crevices. I watched those powerful muscles flex and pull as he swam laps in our tiny pool. And every day, without fail, he would stand up out of that pool and look straight in my direction.
At first, I had squealed before ducking behind the massive bed, as if he could see me. It took me several minutes to realize that hadn’t been the case. He would keep his eyes trained on my door as he hooked his thumbs in those swim trunks before pulling them down to his ankles. I had swallowed thickly as I’d watched him shamefully. I eventually came up from my hiding spot and walked to the door.
Our joint suites were closed off from prying eyes but I had the feeling even if others could see him, he still wouldn’t care. I knew he was putting on a show just for me and that thought alone made me want to run out that glass door and take him right then and there. Damn the consequences.
I would gobble up every detail as he stood in front of me with a ravenous gaze. Every day, he stood there in all his glory as if saying he would lay himself bare for me. Only for me. I would watch the water bead on his skin as he let his wet hair fall in front of his face. Water droplets dripped to the ground. He held a towel in his hand but never made a move to cover himself as he continued to stare. His thick muscular legs held up that impressive form and I would become hypnotized just watching the way his muscles worked under his skin. Especially that thick cock my mouth watered for each time I saw it.
The way it would bob between his legs as if it was telling him which way it longed to go. I felt the flood of arousal soak my inner thighs, preparing for something that would never come. After long-drawn-out moments, he would wrap the towel around his waist, taking away my view but never leaving. Then we both just stood there and stared.
He never said anything and I never opened the door. His honey eyes searched the outside of that glass as if he could see straight through to me. To my soul. The longer we stood there, the hotter I would become. Even if all I wore most days was that plush white robe and the room was chilled, I would always melt while watching him.
As the days went on, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was being cruel to him. I hadn’t ever given him a chance to explain himself. I kept replaying the pain in his eyes as I slammed the door in his face over and over in my mind. Hell, I hadn’t even dared to go outside since we’d gotten here for fear of having to face him.
Truth be told, I didn’t even want to hear his side of the story. I just wanted to move on with my life, but being around him just kept me in the same spot I’d been three years ago. Not in that shitty little motel with him. But instead, I was still on the floor of my bedroom, being kicked like a dog. The sad thing was, that kick had been mild compared to the pain I felt regarding Leo’s betrayal.
When he would finally divert his eyes, it seemed like all the air would leave my lungs in a rush. As if I had been holding it and hadn’t realized it.
I watched him back away from my glass door and head back over to his side of the connected terrace. I would stand rooted in that same spot as he would place his towel on one of the hooks to dry before he returned to his suite. Sometimes I stood there until I heard him leave his room to go roam the resort or do whatever he did.
That’s exactly what I did now. I stood in that same spot, stared out the glass door, and waited for him to leave his room. It was so quiet in my room you could hear a pin drop. So it was easy to hear the rustle of clothing in the other suite. I listened as he got dressed, grabbed his room key, and then left his suite with a muffled clink of the door.
I stood stock still in the same spot for a few more minutes before I stepped toward the terrace. I didn’t let myself think about what I was doing as I unlocked the sliding glass door. I slid it open and was immediately accosted by the sultry heat of the early afternoon.