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“Nothing,” I deflect, but the truth lingers unspoken between us. Leone wants to possess her and dominate her because he’s terrified of feeling anything real.
“Shit!” I groan as Fallon presses into me again, her hand stroking me, and the raw need nearly buckles my resolve.
“Easy, Milo,” Leone muffles a laugh, as he watches my little dance of restraint as I try to move away from her, only for her to move closer.
“She’s going to be the death of me,” I grind out, almost tempted to put a pillow between us.
“Can’t believe she let you taste her,” I admit. I watch Fallon’s chest rise and fall with each breath.
Leone’s eyes glint with mischief as he rolls to his side and gazes at her. “She only let me because I told her I’d remove the handcuffs.”
“Wait, you weren’t doing it just to screw with her head?” I try to read Leone’s impassive expression.
He meets my gaze briefly before looking back at Fallon. “It feels weird having a woman in my bed, even weirder having you in it. She’s difficult to ignore... I forgot how nice it was to have a woman’s warmth.”
“You’re not the type to just pleasure women without something in return,” I point out, knowing his usual detachment all too well; in fact, since Lydia, I’ve rarely seen him with women. Sure, they sprawl all over him at the casino, yet he never takes them home. The few times he has given in, he’s been drunk or fooled around with whatever girl I was with, but he’s never had one in his bed.
Leone sighs heavily, a frown creasing his brow. “You’re making a big deal about this.”
“Because it is.” I sweep her hair back from her face, my thumb moving lower and grazing her bottom lip, and I barely catch Leone’s muttered response, though I can’t quite make out the words.
“She is beautiful,” I whisper as I take in her sleeping form.
“Maybe that’s why I let her live,” Leone murmurs, his voice barely audible as he stares at her. I can tell he didn’t mean to speak those words out loud, as if he were suddenly questioning his reasoning.
“Because she’s beautiful?” I ask.
He shakes his head, a shadow crossing his features. “Nobecause you wanted her but refused to have her.”
I laugh, more out of confusion than amusement. “Are we in a competition I didn’t know about?”
“No, Milo. It means something that you wanted her but didn’t take her. You saw something in her that stopped you, something that made you think you didn’t deserve her,” Leone says, reading me like he always does.
“So, instead, you took her from me?” I challenge, although my heart isn’t in it.
“No, I took her ‘for’ you,” Leone counters. “And maybe because I trust your judgment. If you see good in her, that means she is good. Had I listened to you about Lydia...”
His voice trails off, and the unspoken hangs heavy between us. “She won’t hurt me—not like that,” he finally adds.
“Fallon would never do what Lydia did,” I reply. “She’s pure, Leone. I don’t think she would hurt a single person out of malice. And now I know why,” I tell him.
It’s one of the things that drew my attention to her in the first place. She once watched one of her regulars lose everything at one of those tables. The man then sat at the booths for hours until his wife and daughter looked for him. He is a terrible gambler and alcoholic. Leone even barred him at one stage, but he just got himself in trouble elsewhere.
Peter is a regular, but that day, she caught my attention. Peter was probably too drunk to even remember, but I do. Fallon gave all her tips to his wife after overhearing they needed groceries and were being evicted if she didn’t have rent by the following morning. I’ve watched her ever since and noticed that she always puts everyone else’s needs above hers.
“And what’s that?” Leone asks.
“She’s always had to be—for her sister and father,” I answer, and Leone sighs.
“If I had known she was a virgin...” he starts, but I wave him off.
“I know. You wouldn’t have been so rough. But damn if that doesn’t excite me more.” My laughter is low and dark, matching the mood that has settled over us.
Leone raises an eyebrow, a silent question in his gaze.
“It means we can shape her, make her just for us,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
Fallon shifts again, this time rolling over, her bare ass brushing against the hard planes of my abs. Instinctively, I lift the blanket to confirm what I already suspect—no underwear.
