"You know, the beach will still be there in the morning. Maybe we don’t need to go out there tonight. I suddenly feel the need to take a turn. You did, after all, buy me a drink," I say and he busts out laughing.
"There’s plenty of time for that, ángel. First, we are going to need to stand here for a few minutes while I recite the periodic table. Then how about we go out to the beach for a little while before you take your turn?" He winks.
"Okay," I respond, pressing my ass back against him.
He lets out a cuss and quietly starts mumbling, "Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium…"
"I HAD no idea you did yoga," Leo says as I sit between his legs, staring out at the waves crashing on the beach.
"What?" I look at him over my shoulder.
"Johnson told me y’all know each other from yoga."
I quickly turn back around and bite my lip. Of course he did. He obviously remembers when I got pissed and told the staff at Foundations that I thought that the yoga class they were trying to force me to take was the beginnings of a religious cult. He laughed his ass off, which in turn made me laugh my ass off. The staff, however, didn’t find me even remotely humorous and made me take the class anyway.
"Yeah, I don’t go much anymore," I answer, trying to stifle my laugh.
"Yeah, you didn’t strike me as a yoga girl."
When I spin around, he’s grinning down at me. I drape my legs over his and wrap my arms around his neck.
"What kind of girl do I strike you as?" I ask curiously.
"I don’t know. Down to earth. Someone who doesn’t follow all the hottest trends, but rather forges their own path." He kisses the tip of my nose.
"I like that you see me like that."
"How do you see me?"
"Easy," I answer without hesitation.
He gives me a put-off look. "Hmm. I’m not sure how to take that."
"Oh hush. I can be a little anxious and high strung sometimes, and you have this natural ease about you that doesn’t allow my mind to spiral. Just something as simple as the way you touch me or the stories you tell me—it keeps me grounded."
"I like that you see me like that," he says, repeating my words back to me, and this time, he kisses my mouth.
"Hey. Can I ask you a question?" I lean away but only long enough to tangle my legs around his waist.
"Sure. Then I’m taking you up to bed." He slides his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with such passion that I have no choice but to join him. His hands drift down over my breasts but pause when we hear voices down the beach. He lets out a growl then drops his forehead to mine. "Ask."
"What’s your tattoo mean?"
"And time!" he exclaims, looking down at his watch. "Five weeks, six days, eight hours. This might be a new record."
"What?" I ask, thoroughly confused.
"Most women ask me about it the moment they see it. I’m actually impressed, Sarah."
"Thanks?" I respond.
He laughs, pulling his shirt up to his shoulders so I can see the tattoo on his side.
I trace my fingers over the top line of the ink and ask, "Who’s Liv?"
"What? Holy shit, they forget to put the ‘e’ on the end?" he teases.
"Hilarious," I deadpan.
"I had a serious girlfriend in college. I fell for her hard." He slides my hand down to the word ‘love’ for a second before moving it on to ‘lie.’ "Then she started sleeping with my best friend. They kept it a secret for months until he finally told me the truth the night before I was about to propose."
"Oh damn," I whisper, and he nods his head in agreement.
"So, yeah, it’s actually three separate tattoos." His shoulders tense and a flash of pain flickers in his gorgeous eyes.
For a second, I stare. It’s so unlike the Leo I know that it almost hurts me to see it. I need to wipe away that look as quickly as possible, so I reach up and cup his face.
"I should probably send her a ‘Thanks for being a whore’ Hallmark card. It’s the least I can do for the woman who handed me the most amazing man I’ve ever met."
"I’d hardly say all that," he responds, brushing his lips across my mouth.
"I would. I might even go so far as to send her a fruit basket." I crawl closer to close the invisible gap between us.
Leo smiles. "She hates apples."
"An all-apple fruit basket then," I whisper, kissing the underside of his jaw.
He groans and pulls me impossibly closer. "Christ, ángel."
"And look at the bright side. At least her name wasn’t something ridiculously long like Seraphina-Jo-Lynn." I try to kiss him again, but Leo leans back to catch my eyes. I have no idea what that look means, but a very slow smile lifts the corners of his lips.
Suddenly, I’m flying through the air as he flips me to my back. I let out a startled scream, but Leo’s mouth absorbs the sound as he crushes it over mine. Holy hell. What the fuck just happened? His hands are in my hair and his kiss is rabid. I try to keep up, but it’s worthless—Leo’s gone savage.
"Goddamn it, Sarah." He trails kisses down my neck.
"What did I do?" I ask breathily.
"Tu lo haces muy fácil."
"English," I moan as his hand sneaks under my skirt and into my panties. "Fuck, Leo."