I see you

Leo's POV.

Pocketing my phone, I go to the kitchenette and pull out the bottle of vodka from the fridge, then grab a glass from the cabinet. Father should really stop calling me. I despises when he does. I pour a healthy amount into it and take a deep swig, swallowing hard before I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth.

Fuck, I need another.

Talking to my father always leaves me full of doubt, and I hate it. He goes from completely ignoring me to questioning every move I make, and I end up feeling like a complete fuck up.

I’m not. I’ve got my head on straight, and for the first time in my life, I know what I want.

Sabrina.

I’m falling for her. I’d do anything for her. Does she know that? Does she realize how important she is to me? I should tell her.

I should. Tonight.

I’ve had a couple of glasses by the time I hear Rina's sweet voice calling from the loft.

“Leo? Where are you?” Taking one last swallow directly from the bottle, I leave it on the counter and head up the stairs, pushing my father from my mind. My family. All of it.

I want to concentrate on Rina. No one else but her matters.

When I get to the top of the stairs, I come to a stop, watching Rina as she stands by the foot of the bed, wrapped in one of the hotel robes. Her hair is down, falling far past her shoulders, and her face is scrubbed clean save for a shiny red lip-gloss that’s been applied to her lips.

My dick stands at attention.

“Is that what you got at the store?” I tease her.

She glances down at herself, her mouth curved in a smile. “Not quite.”

“Show me what you got then.”

Rina returns her gaze to mine. “You really want to see?” I nod.

She reaches for the front of her robe, toying with the cloth belt. “It might surprise you.”

“I love a good surprise.” Her laughter is soft. Sexy as fuck. “I hope you like it.”

“Drop the robe and let me see, Sabrina.” With shaky fingers, she undoes the belt, the white terrycloth parting slightly, giving me a view of sexy legs, a flat stomach and plumped-up tits.

She shrugs out of the robe completely, so it falls in a puddle around her feet, and I stare at her, all the air from my lungs sticking in my throat. The bra she’s wearing is made of the palest, sheerest pink trimmed with red lace. I can see her nipples. The panties match, and I can see her pubic hair too. She may as well be naked, but fuck, she’s not.

She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“You like it?” she asks shyly.

Nodding, I start to approach, pausing when there’s still a few feet between us. It’s now or never. I want to pounce, and I assume she wants me to, considering what she’s wearing, but fuck.

I need to make sure.

“I love it.” The gentle curve of her stomach, that small indentation of her belly button…I want to stroke her there. With my tongue. “I’m afraid once I get my hands on you, I won’t be able to control myself.” Something unfamiliar shimmers in her gaze, and she licks her lips. “That was the reaction I was hoping for.”

Her permission given, I go to her, settling my hands on her hips, toying with the thin lacy waistband of her panties. “You make me feel out of my fucking mind, Rina.”

She tilts her head back, smiling up at me, though her eyes are wide. I see fear in them, and I want to banish that. Banish everything that scares her so she feels safe with me. “I like that you make me feel confident.”

I pull her into me, her body colliding with mine. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes flare with heat. “I can see you.” I cup her left tit, gently squeezing, making her eyelids waver. “Your nipples.” I place my hand over her pussy, the heat from her body radiating, coating my palm. “Your pussy. You wanted me to see you.” She nods, her lips parted.

“And your mouth.” I touch the corner of her lips, pulling away to find faint red gloss coating my fingertips.

“You remembered what I said.”

“I want to do something,” she whispers. “Will you let me?”

“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate. Whatever she wants, I’ll give her. Rina shifts away from me to go grab her phone off the nightstand, her ass cheeks jiggling as she walks. My dick surges against my jeans, and I reach between my legs, cupping myself. Trying to get comfortable.

“I want to take a photo,” she starts, and I lift my brows.

“You fucking serious?” She seems mildly aggravated. “Let me finish. I want to take a photo of you. And then me. Us. Together.”

“That’s called photographic evidence, baby.”

Her smile is sassy as she approaches me. “I’m not scared. Okay, take off your sweater.”

I do as she says, whipping it off over my head and letting it drop. Her appreciative gaze skims over my shoulders. My pecs. Dips down to my stomach. All that wide-eyed wonder as she takes me in makes me want to rip off my jeans and show her what she really wants to see.

“Okay, hold still.” She takes a few steps toward me, her mouth close to my left pec. Pursing her lips, she leans in and presses a long, sticky kiss to my skin before pulling away.

Then she snaps a photo of the mark she left.

“Trying to brand me?”

“Making a memory with you.” She kisses me again, in a different spot, yet close enough to the first one. She takes a photo of that as well, then checks it out, her brows furrowed in concentration as she studies the image.

“How did it turn out?”

“I need darker lipstick, I think.” She holds the phone out to me.

I check out the photo. “You do. I can see it, but not very well.”

“I’ll wear a darker one next time,” she murmurs, her voice loaded with promise.

“You want to do this again?”

“There are lots of things I want to do with you.” I see the emotion shining in her eyes, and I realize this is my moment. I need to be open with this girl, and tell her how I feel.

“I want to do a lot of things with you too.” I pull her into my arms, just holding her. “You know I care about you, right?”

She blinks up at me. “You do?”

“Well, yeah. I—don’t do relationships. Not normally. My parents…” My voice drifts and she waits patiently for me to continue. “They aren’t the best example. There wasn’t a lot of love in my house growing up. Just money.” Always money.

“We’re not our parents,” she murmurs, and I wonder if she’s thinking of her own.

“Yeah, but they influence us, and how we act. My dad was—is—such a controlling prick. He’s not a nice person.” That’s putting it mildly.

"You are though.” When I start to argue she shakes her head, and I go quiet.

“You are. You’re sweet and kind. With me.”

“That’s because I like you.” Those words don’t seem big enough for how I really feel about Rina. It’s more than like. Or care. It’s…

I don’t want to put a label on it. Not yet.

“Then I guess I should feel honored.” She laughs, the sound soft.

Sexy.

I don’t answer her. Instead, I kiss her until she’s out of breath, my tongue doing a thorough search of her delectable mouth. Fuck, I can’t get enough of her. This feeling is so overwhelming, it almost fucking hurts.

Even worse? The thought of losing her. That’s downright unbearable to even imagine.

When she pulls away, she smiles, thrusting her phone in between us and taking a photo of me.

“What the fuck, Rina?” She’s already opening up the photo, smiling. “Your lips are covered in gloss.” When she shows me the photo on her phone, all I see is a lust-filled idiot who’s left in a daze by the girl who just kissed him.

“I look stupid.”

“More like stupid hot.” She tosses the phone on the bed, smiling up at me.

“Thank you for indulging me and my little project.”

“Are you done?”

“I think so,” she says shyly.

“Good.” I lean in, stealing a kiss, then another, "Now it's my turn."