Panty Dropper (A Sexy Standalone Contemporary Romance) (13 page)

I
arrived
at Leo’s office and parked my car in the underground garage. I was full of nervous energy, an army of butterflies fighting in my stomach. I was excited to see Leo again, but feeling a little shy at the prospect of taking him on a date. In public. We’d only been out at restaurants of his choosing so I’d always figured in the back of my mind that if someone snapped a picture of us, I couldn't feel guilty—or be blamed. But now it was like he was on my turf—a landscape I hardly knew.

I was escorted into his office by one of his assistants—I think he had four, but I couldn’t be sure. Most of the vast office was empty, it being late in the evening on a Friday.

“This place is a regular Fort Knox,” I said, taking in Leo’s expansive office with a killer view. “I had to go through four gatekeepers, a key card–protected turnstile, and a metal detector.”

“People want to steal ideas as much as they want to steal money,” he said.

“I guess the ideas are money, huh?” I said, setting down my bag.

“And a lot of money at that,” he said. Finally, his eyes took me in. “So we’re going to
watch
this movie?”

“Yes,” I laughed.

“And I’m expected to watch a movie sitting next to you, in a car, wearing that.” He stepped closer, stopping just from me, his hands tucked safely in his pockets.

“What’s wrong with this?” I said, looking down at my cut-off shorts and tank top. I’d decided to forgo any
Crush
closet clothes and opted for my own, picking out something I would wear on a casual outing with a normal person. None of which was true, but I was trying not to overthink the evening.

“Absolutely nothing,” Leo said, “if you want my hands all over you all night.”

“We’re watching the movie,” I said firmly. He groaned.

The woman who led me into Leo’s office stuck her head in the doorway. “Do you need anything else from me?” she asked.

“No, thanks, Elaine. See you Monday. You can close the door,” he added. Once Elaine had gone, the door firmly closed, he turned back to me, his eyes blazing with desire.

He closed the small bit of space between us. He slid his hand down the front of my shorts, grabbing hold of my crotch and pressing his fingers into me. I sucked in a breath, my eyes falling shut.

“Did you think wearing these would keep me from you?” he said, dipping his head close to my face. “Did you?”

“No,” I breathed, as his hand continued to move slowly across me.

“I didn’t pay you,” he said, pushing on my now wet pussy, “nearly enough attention this weekend. I intend to make up for that.” He guided me backward until the back of my legs hit the armchair in the corner. “Sit.” I did. He nudged my shoulders back, then pulled my hips down lower on the seat.

He started by kissing the tops of my thighs. My heart raced, seeing him down on the floor in front of me. I reached for his head to run my fingers through his hair; he caught by hand with his lips, kissing me. His eyes found me, the lust in them clear, and I thought I’d cry out before anything really started. He made my body feel as if it were floating.

His hands continued on my thighs, his palms running flat across them, kneading them and making me squirm. He unbuttoned my shorts and slowly pulled the zipper down. I lifted my hips, moving myself a little closer to his face as he slid the shorts down to the floor. He moved forward and covered my thighs with kisses, his hands all over me, on my hips and up my stomach, over my breasts. My eyes fell shut, and I couldn’t sit still, moving myself closer to him, desperate for him to take me. When he pressed his lips on my pelvis and I groaned. He kissed me there, and then under, right where I was soaked the most. I begged him, desperate for him to take down the last scrap of fabric separating us. I already pictured his mouth there, and flashed back to the plane, when I had him fully in my mouth. My jaw went slack at the memory. I wanted him to take me.

“Impatient, are we?” he said, a smile dancing on his lips.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Please.”

He took the fabric of my panties and I lifted my hips again. A hint of shyness crossed me, being naked from the waist down with Leo on his knees in front of me. But if I was shy then, it was nothing with what he did next.

Leo took my leg under my knee and draped it over the side of the chair, opening me up to him, fully exposed. I hoped I didn’t disappoint him, but then one look at his face showed me he was more than pleased.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, my sex clenching for him, teased out of its mind with his lips and tongue being so close but not yet touching me. He started his kisses again on the inside of my thighs. My legs seemed to have minds of their own, spreading wider, showing Leo more of myself. And then he was there, his tongue sending quick flicks over my nub. I cried out. The need for more was almost unbearable. I looked down, and seeing his face between my legs was the sexiest sight I’d ever seen in my life.

Leo moaned as he ran his tongue over my wetness. I felt dizzy, my head swirling, my body unable to do anything but move in the direction of Leo’s mouth. My hips gently rocked as his tongue explored me, gliding over me as I thought I’d lose consciousness. He moved slowly over my opening and back up to my clit, his tongue making gentle work of it as I moaned, hoping it never ended while desperate for the release he’d soon give me. His tongue became more pointed as he moved in quicker motions over my clit, and my breath came in short gasps in time to the flicking of his tongue. With no warning, he flattened his tongue and drove it in long licks up the entire length of me. I breathed out, reveling in the sensation.

My hand moved up to my breasts, massaging them through my shirt. Leo noticed and moved his own hand up the skin of my stomach and over my bra. I gently put my hand on top of his, letting him move at the perfect pace while I sat back, along for the ride. When he sucked on my clit, my breath caught and I knew I was close. My groans were loud enough to be heard outside his office door and I hoped everyone had really left for the evening because I was only getting louder as he continued his gentle sucking and licking of me. With my eyes closed, I reached down to him, pushing his head closer into me as I sucked in air, every fiber of my body rippling until I felt myself explode, releasing the air from my lungs, stars bursting behind my eyes. Leo grabbed my bucking hips, holding me down as he pressed his face into me, making sure I rode it out as long as possible.

When it was over I collapsed back into the chair, every ounce of energy spent, my eyes closed and limbs limp. Leo kissed my thighs, going back to wear he started, but it felt sweet this time, gently pulling me back to reality.

“Now that that’s done,” he said, “I might be able to concentrate on the movie.”

“You’re awful,” I said. “And when I say that I mean amazing.” A smile played on my lips as I opened my eyes. Seeing Leo there, a satisfied look on his face, made me feel warm and happy.

“I’m going to go change,” he said, nodding toward a bathroom door on the other side of his office. “Can you manage to pull yourself together?”

“I have a better chance if you’re not kneeling in front of me,” I said, resting a hand on top of his, resting on my thigh.

“This is the best place in the world to be,” he said, making me groan with pleasure. Finally, he stood up and went to change, and I got myself dressed again. When he came back he was more casually dressed in jeans and a polo shirt.

I told Leo I’d drive. Even though the drive-in was for a story for
Crush
, I wanted it to be like it was a date. Leo had paid for everything so far—the dinner and all the take-out food he’d had delivered to the beach house—and I wanted to put in my fair share as well. He’d asked me if I was working again next week, and it took me a moment to realize he meant the temp job. A stab of guilt hit me as I told him that yes, it was back to the grind working reception.

We took the elevator down to the parking garage and I led us to my car, a little Honda Accord that was only slightly rusty around the edges.

“No,” Leo said suddenly as I unlocked my door. He stood at the bumper as if an electric force kept him from moving closer.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“This is what we’re riding in?”

“Come on,” I said. “Not everyone can drive a fancy car.”

“Exactly,” he said. “So if you have one, you should take it out as often as possible. Come on.” He began walking back to the garage elevator.

“Are you kidding?” I said.

“Not in the slightest,” he said.

I shook my head and followed him. “You are a snob. Total and complete, stuck-up snob.”

He punched the button for the elevator. “Fine. I’m a snob. But I also have standards.”

“Uh huh,” I said. “You’ve also insulted my car. I worked really hard for that thing!”

“How many phones did you have to answer to have enough money to buy that thing?” he asked.

“Very funny,” I said, feeling that twang of guilt again.

“My car is more comfortable. And safer,” he added. “Plus I like driving.”

“That thing you drove us in back from Malibu?” I said. Despite my intentions of distracting him on the drive back down the coast, the car did not feel safe. And it wasn’t that I cared about going in his car, exactly, but I had wanted to sort of take control of the evening, and one way of doing that was driving.

“No, not that car,” Leo said. “I have my other car here.”

“I’m sure I’ll regret asking this,” I said, “but how many cars do you have?”

He smiled. “Several,” he said. “But this one is much more comfortable, I promise.”

“Fine,” I said. “But I’m paying for the movie and food.”

* * *

T
he drive
-in was just as I had pictured it, on a big empty lot with cars lined up neatly in rows with a little red shack of a concession stand at the back. His car—a midnight blue Mercedes S-Class sedan—was not too much fancier than many of the other cars there. It didn’t stand out, at least.

I was nervous about what he’d think about a movie I loved so much. As it began, I kept stealing glances at him to gauge if he was enjoying it. He quickly had me distracted when he rested his hand on my thigh. When I put my hand on the smooth skin of his, he flipped his hand over and clasped our fingers together. My heart skipped a beat. Something about holding hands—despite all the far more intimate things we’d done together, and to each other—made things with Leo feel significant. Official, maybe. But it was more than that. I loved being with Leo. Being near him, sitting beside him, felt so normal and right that I’d almost forgotten that tongue-tied feeling I’d had at the audition that first day.

When the movie ended, we didn’t move. Leo sat staring at the screen as if it were the middle instead of the credits. I let the silence hang like that until the screen finally went black, and we were almost the only ones left.

“I guess this means you liked it,” I ventured.

“That,” he said, “was amazing.” Which made me absolutely beam. “Those parents. What dicks. When Todd Anderson’s parents sent him the desk set again for his birthday…”

“I know!” I said, so excited he liked it.

“And then his roommate, what’s his name…”

“Neil Perry,” I said.

“…told him it wanted to fly.”

“Such a great scene,” I said. I felt happiness bubbling up as I heard true excitement in Leo’s voice.

“And Neil’s parents,” he said, his eyes focused on nothing outside the windshield of his shiny car. “They’re miserable human beings who insisted on making their son just as miserable. I thought he was going to shoot his dad for a while there.”

“Yeah, but what about letting yourself be free, like Mr. Keating encouraged them all to be? Especially creatively free. Not letting anyone or anything hold you back?” As I said the words, I realized how closely it all mimicked his life—sans suicide, of course.

“Exactly,” he said. He finally turned to look at me, his eyes bright with thought. “Thank you, Sophie. Thank you for showing me your favorite movie.”

I smiled. “You liked it?”

“I loved it,” he said.

I turned to better face him. “So is there anything you’d like to say to me, then, Mr. Armstrong?” I asked coquettishly. He looked at me curiously. “Something along the lines of, ‘I was wrong about the movie, and you were right’? Ring a bell?”

He leaned across the seats toward me, lightly touching my chin. I held my breath as his lips moved closer to mine. When he kissed me, I felt the air rush through me, and I wondered if the feeling would ever end. I certainly hoped not. He pressed closer to me, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, and I loved the taste of him. It all felt so real and so normal, and I wanted the moment to last forever.

“Not a chance,” he said, making me laugh but roll my eyes.

“The ego on you,” I said.

“My place?” he asked. As usual, his kisses scrambled my mind so much that I couldn’t speak sensible words. All I could do was nod yes.

We were hardly off the elevator of his apartment before we were clawing the clothes off each other. It was like we were starving, and the only thing that could fill us up was each other. His mouth devoured my neck as his hands slipped under my blouse, feeling up my ribs until he was sliding it off over my head, tossing it aside. My mind became so frazzled in these moments, not knowing whether I should go for his shirt first and feel that hard, strong chest, or go straight for his pants for what I really wanted. I started with his shirt, although I almost ripped the buttons off I was so eager.