Blindsided (29 page)

“But wouldn’t all the designers? The ones you sent stuff to?” I frown.

“No. I sent everything under a different name,” she explains. “I know what you’re going to say,” she says hurriedly when I open my mouth, “and that’s exactly why. I wanted a career in fashion for my work, not because I’m a Veronica.”

“Wow.” I stare at her. I just stare at her, because she really is amazing. Everyone else would have taken the easy way out. Hell, I kind of did. “No one knows? Really?”

She shakes her head and turns her body to me. “Macey, Ry, and Cole always tease me because I’m ‘too fussy to work,’ but I have to pretend so they don’t find out. They think I’m still sending stuff to designers.”

“Wow,” I say again. How the hell has she kept this up for so long? “Did you ever plan on coming clean?”

“Yes. When I was established and people respected my work for my work, then I was going to be honest.” She meets my gaze. “I don’t do it to be deceitful, just selfish.”

“No, babe. No.” I push some hair from her face. “You do it because you’re fucking incredible. That’s why.”

Pink colors her cheeks. “Maybe to you, but it’s hard. Like my mom is gonna go and see my show and I’ll be sitting here at home, watching it on my laptop.” She casts her eyes downward. “That hurts because I’ve worked so hard for it.”

“My mom will be there, too.” I keep my voice low. “I wish I could come watch it with you, but we have a game that day.”

“I think your mom is going to the show with mine.”

“Yeah…” I say slowly, realization dawning. “Mom’s a huge fan of QD, and she said that Grace mentioned this new collection he’s bringing out. And it makes sense,” I finish on a mutter.

“Lea V.” Leah’s voice is a whisper. “That’s what I called myself when I was sending my designs out, so now it’s my collection name.”

My lips curve upward. Widely. “You’re hiding in plain sight. Clever girl.” I stand up and close the distance between us. “I’m sorry I made you tell me,” I apologize softly, cupping the back of her neck.

She swallows again then lets her eyes crawl up my body until they find mine. Her fingers curl around my forearm. “I’m not. I trust you, Corey.”

I drop my forehead to hers and close my eyes.
Fuck.
I didn’t know how much I needed to hear her say those words until now. I didn’t know how much it fucking mattered until relief floods my veins right now.

“You shouldn’t,” I whisper against her mouth. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I know. You gotta start earning it,” she replies just as softly then tilts her face so our lips mesh completely.

“Let’s go.” I break the kiss. “Talking is better after fucking.”

Leah shakes her head but gets up and goes upstairs anyway. I stare at the doorway as she goes, as she disappears, and as she walks back through it. With her bag slung over her shoulder, she walks up to me and pauses.

“Let’s go be roomies,” she teases, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss me.

“We’re more than fucking roomies,” I say after her, following her outside to my car. “Get in.”

“That was my plan.”

“She’s sassy now that she’s come clean.”

She grins and leans over the center console. “She’s sassy because she bagged the unbaggable.”

“Sassy
and
sure. Sexy.” I grab her hand and bring it to my lips.

“You’re rubbing off on me, you know? One day, I’ll walk past a mirror and be like, ‘Damn, I’m hot.’ Then I’ll need to punch myself in the face with a brick because I’ll be a female Corey Jackson.”

I laugh. “Babe, I don’t need a mirror to tell me I’m hot.”

“Of course you don’t.”

I park in my driveway, unclip my belt right before hers, and pull her over to straddle my lap. She squeaks as she tries to keep her head from hitting the roof of my car, but I grip her ass and lower her down. Her fingers curl into my shoulders, and the escaped tendrils from her messy ‘do tickle my face.

“It’s in your eyes, Leah. Whenever you look at me.”

“Is that right?”

“Hmmm.” I hum the words into her mouth then pull back. “I bet that look is in your eyes right now.”

She reaches down and opens my door. Her other hand pulls my keys from the ignition. “If you can catch me, I’ll let you look.” With a laugh, she extracts herself from me and jumps out before I can tighten my grip on her.

“Bitch!” I laugh, jumping out after her.

She disappears inside the house, and the crash of my keys hitting the side table breaks through her laughter. I slam the door behind me and look into the front room. She pops up from behind the sofa and blows a raspberry.

“Leah…” I warn.

She darts into the kitchen, and when I go after her, she’s on the other side of the table, grinning. “I hope you’re a better catcher than you are thrower, King Interception-Thrower.”

“Shit, that’s some fightin’ talk there, beautiful girl.” I grab my side of the table. “Sure you wanna go down that route?”

“Too late.”

“Damn right.” I jolt to the left.

She shrieks a giggle and runs around the table. She’s barefoot, her feet slapping against the tile floor, and as soon as she gets close to the door, she runs through it, full speed, into the front room.

Fuck this. Time for game over.

I jump over the back of my sofa, loop my arm around her waist, and slam her down onto the cushions. She screams, still laughing, and lands in a heap beneath me.

“Bam,” I murmur when she opens her legs and wraps them around my waist. “Blindsided.”

“Smartass,” she murmurs back, tangling her fingers in my hair and pulling my mouth down to hers.

I sit up and bring her with me, keeping the connection of our mouths. My fingers slip beneath her shirt and splay across the silky skin stretching over her back. She pushes into me, and my cock hardens quickly, throbbing with the knowledge that her pussy is three thin layers away from it.

I pull her shirt over her head and kiss my way down her neck. She gasps when I unclasp her bra and seal my mouth over her nipple. I cup her gorgeous, full tits with my hands, and she tugs at the neck of my T-shirt.

I pull the material over my head, and when it’s gone, I grab her body closer to mine. As I run hands over her curves, every quick breath she takes is music to my ears.

She reaches between us and unbuttons my pants. “You have a—”

“Pocket. Just in case.”

She smiles then lifts herself and shoves her hand into my pocket for the condom. Her fingers graze along my cock, making it twitch. Fuck. It’s a tiny touch, delicious but torturous, and I groan.

Leah gets up, the foil packet between her teeth, and rolls her panties down her legs. Her bare pussy is right in front of my face—right in fucking front of me—and the urge to taste it, the temptation…

I lift my hips and push my pants and boxers down to my ankles. Then I reach forward, grab her hips, and make her step forward. I kiss the smooth mound of skin just above the place my cock is begging for. Leah inhales heavily, and the condom packet scratches my neck as she grabs me.

I kiss down, farther and farther, her legs parting just a tiny bit. Just enough… I flick my tongue out against her warm, wet pussy, and a small moan of delight leaves her. I do it once more, really tasting her, then sit back and pull her with me.

Snatching the condom, I rip it open and roll the rubber onto my dick. With one hand on Leah’s back, the other around the back of her neck, I pull her against me.

“Get on my cock. Now.”

She drops her hips and takes me in one motion. Fuck. I groan. She’s so fucking wet and ready, and she hugs me tight, rocking slowly as she adjusts to my invasion.

Because that’s what this is. I want to invade her body the way she’s invaded my life and my heart.

Her fingers grip my hair, her mouth breathes hot air into mine, and her hips… Shit, them hips. They rock and gyrate, and she bounces, too, taking me from the tip to the base. Her gorgeous pussy is literally swallowing my cock.

I flip her beneath me without withdrawing from her and kiss her harshly. It’s not enough. I need to hear her scream my fucking name the way she did earlier. I need her to get lost in me, because I’m sure as hell lost in her.

And I pound into her again and again, and like the addiction she is, she consumes me until all I know is her.

The sound of Leah’s hair dryer blasting fills my dressing room, and I glance through the door at her. She’s sitting on the chair in front of the mirror and built-in vanity, a bright-blue towel wrapped around her body. Her hair is flying everywhere as she fires the hot air at it and desperately tries to run a brush through it.

I dump my shirt on the bed and walk into the dressing room. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, her lips curving. I smile back and take the brush from her. Then I run it through her long hair, controlling it better than she just was. Her smile continues to grow as I brush right to the ends halfway down her back.

“What are you doing?” she asks over the hair dryer.

I shrug. “I used to do it for my mom. My dad told me once that I’m the biggest pussy of a quarterback he’s ever known.”

Leah laughs. “He’s right. Look at you. Big, hard man brushing a girl’s hair.”

“Not just any girl,” I correct her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Look at you. Big, hard man brushing your girl’s hair.”

“Better.” I nod and quickly kiss the top of her head. “See? I can be a gentleman.”

She laughs again and turns the hair dryer off. After setting it on the vanity, she takes the brush from me. “A gentleman. Right. Is that what you were being at four a.m.?”

“Look, babe. If I wake up with your tit in my hand, you can bet your hot little butt that my cock is gonna wake the fuck up, too.”

“I’ll sleep in a spare room tonight, then.”

“I dare you to try.” I lightly tug her hair. “I have practice until two. What are you doin’?”

“I’m going shopping with Macey. Then I need to call a bakery. It’s Aunt Ada’s birthday on Sunday and Mom wants me to get her a cake. Not that she can eat it because of her diabetes,” she adds. “But still.”

“You wanna make her one?” I call over my shoulder.

“For real? You can bake a cake?”

I shrug and throw my T-shirt over my head. “How hard can it be?”

Leah grins. “Famous last words, cowboy. Famous last words.”

I wink. “If I can handle you, I can handle making a cake. We’ll do it Sunday morning.”

“Because you’re playing the Bengals at home on Saturday at one thirty, right?”

Seriously. She is so fucking hot when she talks football to me. “Right.”

“Then you’ll go out with the guys to celebrate the inevitable win.” She gets up and walks toward me, still wrapped in the towel.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll come home and party with you.” I wrap my arms around her and kiss her.

“Or you won’t, because I’ll be with the girls for Ryann’s birthday.” Leah beams.

“Of course you are. Just make sure every guy in the club stays away from you, all right?”

“I have no doubt that, at some point in the evening, you’ll find us and glue yourself to my side without causing a huge scene.”

“Babe, I will cause a scene so big it’ll be the next fucking blockbuster.” I kiss her again. “I have to go. Oh, and do me a favor.”

“What?”

“When you go shopping, buy something for our date tonight.”

“Oh. Yeah. The date.”

I raise my eyebrows. Yeah, the date. The public date where we’ll be seen together. The public date that will put us on the front cover of some tabloid and as the main entertainment story online.

And I couldn’t give a fuck.