Chapter Seven
Cammie walked intoLeo’s apartment, her blue eyes darting everywhere, taking in the open concept kitchen and living room, along with the oak flooring and off-white walls that brightened the space. In contrast, he’d chosen a brown suede sectional couch and black kitchen cabinets. There wasn’t a lot of color in the apartment, just clean lines and neutral shades.
But the view was killer, just as he promised and her gaze locked on the floor-to-ceiling windows as she walked farther into the apartment. Stepping over to the glass, she stared out at the incredible view of Central Park and the vista of the city skyline, lit by lights on the tall buildings and streetlamps below.
Leo went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Can I offer you a drink? It’s a little late for coffee, which I know we both like, and I know wine isn’t your thing. That leaves…” his eyes scanned the contents of his fridge, “bottled water or cola.”
“I’ll take the soda,” she said, coming into the kitchen and leaning against the island, her elbows on the white granite countertop.
He set the drink in front of her and pulled out a bottle of water for himself.
“This is a nice place you have,” she said, and Leo frowned as he picked up on a negative note in her voice.
He glanced around but nothing was out of place, his housekeeper efficient as usual. “But?” he asked.
“It’s just that there’s no Christmas tree.” Her lips formed a pout. “No decorations of any kind.”
“You noticed that, huh? And what about your place? Is it a winter wonderland?”
Her small grin told him he was on the right track with his guess. “I don’t usually decorate for the holidays. It seems a bit pointless to me. I don’t entertain, so why would I go to the effort of putting up a tree just for myself?” He shrugged. “Besides, my parents will have their ten-foot tree up when I go there on Christmas Day, so I’m not missing out.”
Her narrowed gaze said she didn’t agree.
“Do you spend Christmas with your family?” he asked.
Sadness seeped into her expressive eyes, and he immediately regretted the question.
“Um, no. I don’t have any family. It was always just me and my mom, but she’s been gone for two years now.”
Ah, shit.Leo reached across the island and took her hand. Her skin was soft and warm, and he had the urge to pull her into his arms and offer comfort. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. What happened?”
She glanced down. “Brain cancer. Inoperable. We found out when I was about to start my last year at NYU. That’s why I don’t have my degree in graphic design. I dropped out to take care of her.”
That made sense. He’d wondered what happened to make her not finish. Especially since she was so passionate about it.
His heart broke for her as he imagined her giving up on her dream in order to be with her sick mother. “That must’ve been a tough decision,” he said.
“Not really,” Cammie said, flipping her hand over and interlacing their fingers. “She was my mom. I would have done anything for her. I admit it wasn’t easy. I had about ten months with her after the diagnosis, and I’m grateful for the time, but seeing her so sick was…hard.”
Leo couldn’t stand having the kitchen island between them, not while she was talking about her pain with a shaky voice and eyes shining with grief.
He strode around to her side of the counter and pulled her into his arms. She tucked her head against his chest and cuddled into him. She wasn’t crying, but there was something vulnerable about her and a foreign, protective instinct rose inside him. Even more, holding her like this felt natural. Right.
He ran a hand up and down her back, remaining silent. The moment felt heavy and intimate and so muchmorethan the meaningless sex and polite interactions he had with other women. He didn’t know what to do with his feelings, so he just held her.
She glanced up and something shifted in the air. As he stared at her pouty lips and piercing blue eyes, her pupils widened, desire flashing inside them. His breath hitched with longing and unable to wait any longer, he crashed his lips to hers.
Her hands slid to the back of his neck, holding him closer. He parted his lips and slid his tongue against hers. Back and forth, their mouths clashed, teeth scraped, and the kiss grew hotter. Her taste was addictive as were the small whimpers coming from the back of her throat. Both drove his arousal to new heights.
Picking her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he started toward his bedroom, never breaking their kiss. He twisted the doorknob with one hand and held onto her ass with the other, all the while, their need growing more desperate and heated.
He navigated through the familiar room until his legs hit the king-sized bed in the center. Lowering her onto the mattress, he pressed his weight against her, his erection grinding into the waiting space between her legs.
He slid his hands beneath her sweater, his fingers coming into contact with the delicate lace edge of her bra. She arched herback, reached behind her and unhooked the clasp. Breaking the kiss, he whipped off her sweater.
With her help, his button-down shirt came next.
Both of their movements were frantic, and his buttons went flying, but he didn’t care. He took her generous breasts in his hands, finding her nipples were hard points. Dipping his head, he pulled one of the tips into his mouth. Cammie moaned and thrust her fingers into his hair, sometimes pulling, other times holding him close.
