A Breathless Place, page 10
“I do need to talk,” she says softly, but doesn’t let go yet.
Chapter 16
“I’m not entirely sure what I feel,” Leila says. “I know what I want, but I’m also wise enough to question my desire.”
Desire. Want. Feel. Only a few of her words are really getting through to me. If I’m being perfectly honest, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t be sitting in a chair talking to Leila right now. Because my heart rages inside my chest. My blood pounds in my veins while my pulse throbs wildly between my legs.
If it were solely up to me, Leila would be all over me right now, taking care of my desire, which I know is not the same as hers. It can’t be. Not only because we are different people but also because we’re coming at this from totally different places. What I’m warring with is reconciling our kiss, and whatever might or might not happen after, with ticking off an activity on my final to-do list—sleeping with another woman one last time.
As long as I’m being honest with myself, I admit that, from the moment I walked into her home that night she invited me to dinner, I knew I wanted her to be the last person I ever shared a bed with. My body made quick work of informing me of that.
“This might not be the best idea, Izzy.”
“Depends what angle you take.”
“Of course, but I have a code of ethics that I’ve always stood by. I didn’t take this job so I could be in a position to kiss you one night. That was never what this was about for me.” She scoffs. “Although I’m well aware I could have easily fooled you—and myself.”
“What’s your code?” I suppose I also live by certain rules now and I want to respect other people’s as much as I can.
“I don’t use seduction as a tactic to gather information. It’s not professional. It’s not serious. It diminishes the work.”
“If that’s the case, then yes, you really could have fooled me, Leila.” I try a smile. Maybe she’s one of those people who don’t know how naturally seductive they are, who change the air in a room without realizing it. But I think she does.
“I’m well aware, but it was never my intention.”
I nod. “Look, sometimes something happens when two people get together. Something that’s stronger than your resolve. Or any code.” Or a long-held belief that all that’s left for me is to die in peace and with dignity.
“True, but… I’m not in two minds about kissing you, Izzy. I’m insanely attracted to you. What I’m struggling with is whether I should quit the job or not.”
“Please don’t. In the end, it’s just a book. It’s not a matter of life or death.” Oops. Wrong choice of words, although she doesn’t know that, and I’m trying to make a point. “I know for you this book is work and it’s important to you to do a good job. I respect that. But, for me, it’s not enough of an argument to not kiss you anymore.” I shrug. “If you feel that strongly about it, we can find someone else to finish the job. It’s a small thing compared to… exploring what there might be between us. But please don’t make any rash decisions.”
“Here’s my current dilemma.” Her voice has dropped into a lower register. “I need to think about this, but I don’t want to go. I don’t much feel like taking the time that is required to think this through.”
I try to suppress the grin that’s already spreading on my face. “You must have thought about it on your way over.”
“I did, but my rumination was inconclusive.”
“What happened to your date?”
“I had to let her down.” The skin around her eyes crinkles so deliciously again. “I couldn’t bear the thought of sitting across from a woman who wasn’t you. Imagine if she asked me about my work, which she surely would have. What would I have said? And how would I have felt? I couldn’t do it.”
The pure elation that courses through me at hearing Leila’s words is like magic. It lifts my spirits to a level they haven’t reached in years. Maybe a decade. Maybe since before… No, don’t go there, Izzy. Take what you can from this.
I decided long ago, once my decision was final, that what I would never do was look for reasons to go on living. By the time I’d made my decision, I had done enough of that. And I won’t be reduced to the cliché of having another woman ‘save me’. Or even worse, being ‘saved by love’. This has nothing to do with love. I just want to spend a night with Leila. Maybe two. Who knows, maybe there are even three nights in the cards for us. Surely, by then, she’ll be sick of me. She’ll want to move on, like she’s wont to do, with her serial monogamy and all that. And I will have the memory of having been with her for whatever number of days I have left.
“I’m putting all my cards on the table here.” Any notion of trembling, of shaking at Leila’s touch, has left me now. I can think clearly again. “I would very much like you to stay.” I reach over and grab her hand. I turn her palm upward and stroke gently along it with my thumb. “But you’re the one with a job to do so it’s your decision, which I will, of course, respect. But… think of it this way.” I find her eyes. “From what you’ve told me, you’re not looking for anything too serious. Neither am I. In fact, it’s important that we’re very clear about that. Is it really worth giving up this job for? Code of ethics aside, it could be considered as some very… deep research.”
She returns my gaze, but I’m not done yet.
“Besides, Leila, you didn’t seduce me any more than I seduced you.”
She expels a small sigh. “Already, I want to ask you so many questions after what you’ve just said.”
“But I would have never said any of this if we weren’t in this post-kiss situation.”
“Exactly my point. Where to draw the line?”
“You’re not conducting an official investigation into my life. You’re writing a book about it. Not some official report for the authorities, but a piece of entertainment.”
Her hand closes around my fingers. “This is no longer an issue of whether I will or won’t sleep with you, Izzy.”
Music to my ears. If I still could sing, I’d want to write a song about it. “Then what have you got to lose?” I repeat Vivian’s question to me. Because I now know with complete certainty that I only stand to gain from this. But I’m not Leila.
“I’ve always found that to be such a stupid question. I don’t have anything to teach you about loss, Izzy, nor do I need any lessons on it myself. It’s not about that. It’s about professional integrity, which is important to me.”
I stand corrected. For a minute there, I was under the very wrong impression Leila was a fangirl I could easily talk into my bed. Although it hasn’t happened for many years, it wouldn’t have been the first time. It’s also, mercifully in some ways, a reminder that Leila is not here because of who I am—not tonight.
Then another thought occurs to me. Is she asking me to put a lid on this for tonight? Or to at least help her stop this until she figures out what it is she wants? Christ. I couldn’t have gone for a less complex woman, of course. It had to be someone with professional integrity and a code of ethics. Obviously. Why keep it simple if there can be complications? It’s pretty much the story of what my life has become.
“Okay. Then go home. Think about it. I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
“I guess I could fake a migraine.” Just like that, she manages to defuse the situation with one single sentence again.
“You can hold that against me until the clock strikes twelve. After that, it’s off-limits. You knew how I felt. I was just… saving face.”
“Oh, I know. As soon as I figured out you weren’t really having a migraine, it was actually rather adorable.” She squeezes my hand. “But you see how things between us can shift so quickly? I want to keep this job, Izzy. And I want to be able to do it to the best of my abilities, not just for me, or for the readers, but for you. This book must be a big deal to you as well?”
It’s really not, I almost say, but I manage to swallow the words. I want to meet her halfway in this, but it’s hard, because it’s difficult for me to understand why she’s making such a fuss about this.
“Leila.” I cup her hand in both of mine now. “I want you to finish the book. I want to work with you. But I also want you…” My mind’s racing, trying to come up with a way to get Leila out of her head. The only thing I can come up with is to kiss her again. Surely that should work? I lift her hand and bring it to my mouth. Before I do anything else, before I move this forward, I look her in the eye. Oh, damn.
When I meet her gaze, I realize that it’s not up to me to convince her to do this. It should be her decision entirely, no matter her reasons. At least she’s being honest. Brutally so, but honest nonetheless. Something I will never be able to be with her.
Gently, I put her hand down. “I’m sorry. Just as you don’t want to feel you’ve seduced me, I don’t want to feel I’ve manipulated you in any way.”
“Oh, Izzy.” What starts out as a chuckle quickly turns into a low rumble of a laugh. “Do you know what I think it is?” She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, the way I’ve seen her do a few times already. It makes her look vulnerable and utterly kissable at the same time. “I think I might be a little bit scared.” She might look vulnerable, but she doesn’t look scared to me at all. “Maybe even a bit intimidated.”
“I’m scared too.” I might as well admit it. We might as well admit it to each other. “I haven’t done this… you know.” And most certainly not with a woman as gorgeous and impressive as you, I think. A woman who might just completely overwhelm me. Maybe what scares me the most about taking things further with Leila is that she is almost exactly, insofar as that is even possible, what I had wished the last ever woman for me would be. Strong but vulnerable. Elegant but never mincing her words. And mesmerizingly beautiful.
“I know,” she says. “You’ve locked yourself away, Izzy. You’ve made everything and everyone outside yourself, outside the intimate circle you’ve created around yourself, scary.”
“Are you going to put that in the book?” Jesus Christ. I feel like I’m in my shrink’s office again. Leila might be right, but this is not the time to be psychoanalyzing me.
“I don’t know.” She’s the one who stands up now. “Do you think I should put this in?” She locks her gaze on me, walks over, and kisses me lightly on the lips.
If it helps with your professional integrity, I think. I can’t say it because my mouth is otherwise engaged. My lips find hers again and again. With my lips still glued to hers, I manage to push myself out of my chair.
“How does it work with your staff when you take someone to your bedroom?” she asks as I tug her toward the door. “You haven’t even finished your dinner.”
“Stop being a journalist now, please.” I touch the back of my fingers to her cheek. “Stop asking questions.”
She pulls me close to her. “If I don’t ask, how will I know what you like?”
“I’ll make sure that you do.” I run the tip of my tongue over my upper lip.
“I have no doubt about that,” she says.
Hand in hand, we walk up the stairs.
Chapter 17
I might be pushing sixty, but my doctor always tells me I have the body of someone at least twenty-five years younger. I know she exaggerates—she’s the flirty, overly complimentary type, which is why she’s been my doctor for so long—but Dr. Fererra’s confidence boosting words mean I never have any qualms about undressing in front of someone else. Although, truth be told, apart from medical examinations, of which I’ve had enough to, literally, last me a lifetime, it’s not a very frequent occurrence in my life.
“Why the rush?” Leila asks, after she’s given my bedroom a once-over. I can’t wait for her to rake her gaze over me like that.
She’s right, of course. My self-imposed number of days to live has nothing to do with tonight. In fact, I’d better take my time to enjoy this.
“Come here.” She holds out her hand and I take it. She looks deep into my eyes and I wonder if she’s like this with everyone she sleeps with or if it’s different because she’s with me. It’s a thought I’ve never been able to banish fully from my mind, even though it’s utterly futile. “It seems I’ve gotten over my fear.” The corner of her mouth lifts a fraction.
I never asked her what she was so afraid of, but it seems foolish to bring it up now. “Leila, you’re…” I drop her hand and cup her face in my palms. “You’re so fucking sexy.” While I kiss her, I hope I don’t start shaking again like I did earlier.
“Ditto,” she whispers when we come up for air. “Are you okay?” It’s not worry I detect in her gaze when I meet it.
I glance at my hands. Only a slight tremble. Maybe I’ve gotten over my fear as well. I give her a nod.
She covers my hands with hers. The warmth of her touch and the strength of her grip calm me down further.
“I want you,” I say. My voice is shaky but that was always going to be the case.
The smile she gives me is full and seductive. Maybe we’ll never be able to settle on who seduced whom, but in my mind, it will always be Leila. The way she came into my house with all her confident elegance. The way she shook my hand and looked me straight in the eye, as if to say, I’m here now, there’s nothing to worry about anymore.
“Me too, Izzy.” Her gaze is warm, brimming with affection. “Oh, me too.” She brings my hands to her lips, turns them to her, and kisses both my palms. Then she places my hands on her shoulders, while her own hands get to work on finishing the unbuttoning of my blouse I had started earlier.
Her dark skin contrasts starkly with the pale yellow of my blouse. Leila is not one to delicately undo garments. I get the feeling she’d rather be tearing it off me than fumbling with a bunch of useless buttons.
Seeing her impatience on display makes my own grow. And it’s in that moment that I decide to let go of any qualms I might have left. To evict the thought of my days left from my head and not let it matter tonight. To not think of Leila as a means to an end—as the woman I’ve chosen to spend the night with for the last time ever. Because if I do that, most of the magic of tonight will be lost on me. I need to get out of my head. I need to be here with her to be able to delight in the furtive touch of her fingertips against the swell of my breasts. I need to feel my breath hitch the way it does when she finally guides that blouse off my shoulders, when she finishes her impatient work of ridding me of it, of exposing a bit more of me to her. Because, in the end, that’s what she’s here for. That’s why she came into my life. To expose me. And while I will always keep certain parts of myself hidden, I’m willing to let her see a whole lot tonight.
“Damn,” she says on what sounds like a sigh of admiration. “You weren’t kidding about working out.” She skates a fingertip over the taut skin of my belly.
I can hardly say it’s all because of Ramona. Instead, I flex my muscles so she can get a hint of the six-pack I have on a good day. It’s only ever a hint. But still. I like to think that Ramona would approve. Leila certainly looks like she does. She casts her gaze to my biceps next.
“Hm,” she says, as she traces a fingertip over the swell of my muscle. I’m not sure what the ‘hm’ means, but I don’t have time to contemplate it further, because the next thing Leila does is hoist her top over her head.
With her tan skin and delicious curves, her body is the opposite of mine. Where I’m sinewy and firm, she’s soft and voluptuous. Everything about Leila as she stands here in front me is so utterly inviting.
“I don’t work out at all,” she says, without any apology in her voice.
“Oh, Leila.” I can’t help myself. I need to feel the warmth of her skin. I bring a hand to her shoulder again and trail a line down, to where her breast curves out of her bra.
She unhooks her bra and reveals her breasts to me. Something inside me, something I’ve kept a tight lid on for a very long time, unhinges at the sight of her topless. I cup her breasts gently and brush my thumbs over her nipples. They harden against my touch. My own nipples tighten against the fabric of my bra, but I’m much too preoccupied to even think about taking it off. Later. After I’ve finished worshiping the marvels that are Leila’s breasts. They’re so exquisitely soft in my hands. It’s not only acute arousal I feel coursing through me, although there’s plenty of that. Somehow, her baring her breasts to me has loosened something else in me. The need for comfort. For touch. For human warmth. All needs I had safely locked away.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, wholly mesmerized by her.
Her smile, when I manage to tear my gaze away from her bosom, is like the sun bursting through a cloud. Come to think of it, that’s how I’m feeling inside as well. Like the sun has finally found a way to illuminate a darkness I’ve lived with for too long. A darkness created by neglected needs, by pretending I could live without certain things.
I lean in and kiss her lips before trailing a hot, wet path to her breasts. When I take one of her nipples in my mouth, something inside me further unclenches. And Leila, as if she senses that I need to take this time, just lets me do what I need to do. Allows me to reacquaint myself with the incredible comforting power of the female body.
I hear her gasp and when I look up from her breasts, her head is thrown back, her neck an open invitation to be kissed. I grab the invite with open hands—and very eager lips.
“I want to see you,” she says, when my lips have almost reached her mouth again.
It most certainly wasn’t a question because her hands are reaching behind my back already. She opens my bra and lets it slide over my arms. Here I am with all my muscle tone but barely any swell to my chest, I think. The bra was just for show. I’ve never really needed one. I wasn’t wearing a push-up bra or some other male-invented contraption. What lies beneath is hardly a surprise—although, in the past, I have come across disappointed glances. But Leila doesn’t appear any less enthralled. She looks at me the way I want to be looked at right now. Like she wants to discover every last inch of me.
