She brushes a kiss to my skin and slowly trails more up my neck, over my jaw, until she reaches my mouth. She kisses me there. “Take me to bed,” she whispers against my mouth. “I want to forget everything. I only want to think and feel you.”
I swipe my tongue over her lower lip. “Babe, when I’m done with you, you won’t even remember what year it is.”
She smiles against my lips. “I adore you, Leandro Silva.”
“And I adore you. Now, let’s go upstairs, so I can show you exactly how much.”
I’M STARING AT LEANDRO lying next to me in bed, watching him sleep. His long black eyelashes fanning his skin. His hair all tousled and caressing his forehead. He looks beautiful.
Jett and I are with Leandro in Italy. We’re staying in a stunning two-bedroom suite in Milan, just ten miles away from the Monza track. We’ve being relaxing for the last few days, just sightseeing and eating true Italian food.
Tomorrow, Leandro has qualifying. Jett loves attending all these races, traveling to all the different countries.
It’s been a week since I went to the police station and told them that Paul was blackmailing me. Telling the whole story to the officers was horrible, and I could see the judging looks in their eyes when I told them that Leandro used to be my patient. But I guess I’m going to have to get used to those kinds of looks.
The HCPC wasn’t any easier. It was worse. My practice license has been suspended, pending review. Even though I confessed to them about being in a relationship with a prior patient, I have to go through the official process. Leandro and I might have no longer been patient and therapist when we got together, but we shared a kiss while I still was treating him. That matters to the board.
And it matters to me.
Even though I love my job, I just don’t feel the same way about it as I used to anymore. As devastating as it is to not be able to help people anymore, I know this is the right thing.
The only person I care about not thinking badly of me is Jett. And thank God, he doesn’t. My son is wise beyond his years.
After I had been to the police and the HCPC, I sat Jett down and told him everything. About how Leandro and I met. About his father being released from prison. The break-in. Paul trying to blackmail me. I didn’t want Jett finding out from anyone else.
And after I’d told him all of this, he said to me, “As long as you are okay and you’re happy with Leandro, that’s all that matters to me. The rest is just white noise.”
I cried. How could I not? I knew right then, hugging my son, that everything would be okay. That everything would right itself, and that everything happens for a reason.
Paul was arrested and put back in prison for violating his parole, meaning he’ll serve out the rest of his sentence. And he will stand trial for attempted blackmail and extortion. Once again, I’ll be a witness at his trial. Ultimately, it’s my word against his, in regard to the blackmail attempt. But my laptop and the documents about Leandro that Paul had printed out, were seized at his house.
The fact that, by coming forward, I had everything to lose and nothing to gain will show that I’m telling the truth. I’m hoping that he will be sentenced for it, adding a few more years to his jail term. I’m praying by the time Paul gets out, Jett will be a grown man, and hopefully, Paul will have the foresight to leave us all alone.
School is still out for the holidays, going back next week, and Leandro was having a hard time with the thought of leaving us even though Paul was back behind bars, so we came with him to Monza for this leg of the Prix.
I’m feeling relaxed and safe for the first time since Paul got out of prison. And I’m just relieved that everything is out in the open.
The press hasn’t gotten wind of the story about Paul, or how Leandro and I met. Maybe they will. Maybe they won’t. If they do, then we’ll deal with it together.
“You’re watching me sleep,” he murmurs, surprising me, eyes still closed. His voice is rough with sleep, and sexy as hell.
“I might be.” I curl into his side, hooking my leg over his hip and feeling his morning wood beneath my leg. “You just look so adorable when you sleep.”
He opens one eye, peeking at me. “The last thing I am is adorable. You, on the other hand…” He opens his other eye as one hand skims down over my bum, curling around my thigh, under my pajama shorts, to touch my quickly dampening knickers with his fingertips.
I gasp at his featherlight touch. “Jett might be awake.”
“Then, we’ll be quiet.” He gives me that sexy grin of his that instantly has me doing what he wants.
My response is to kiss him. His fingers slip inside my knickers, and he pushes one inside me.
“God,” I breathe as he fingers me, rubbing my clit with his thumb. “I need to touch you.” I push my hand into his pajama bottoms and palm his cock. Gripping it, I stroke it up and down. I love the hiss of air that escapes him at my touch.
The next thing I know, my shorts and knickers are being pulled down my legs, and I’m none too gently turned over, facing away from him.
“Part your legs,” he whispers into my ear.
I do as he asks. I feel the head of his cock rubbing over my entrance, up to my clit, and back down again before he pushes inside me.
“Fuck,” he groans in my ear. His hand slips under my pajama top, and he palms my breast, pinching my nipple.
A cry escapes me.
“Shh,” he whispers, his other hand comes up to cover my mouth as he slowly moves in and out of me. “Do I need to gag you, babe? Or will you be a good girl?”
The thought of him gagging me excites me along with the feel of his hand against my mouth, but I shake my head. “I’ll be good,” I murmur against his hand.
Keeping his hand over my mouth, his other hand pinches my nipple again. I sink my teeth against his palm. He groans and starts fucking me harder. The sound of his flesh slapping against mine is such a turn-on.
“Rub your pussy, India. I want you to touch yourself.”
I’ve never touched myself in front of him before, but the thought thrills me.
I press my fingers to my pussy, letting the tips of my fingers touch his cock as it thrusts in and out. Then, I start rubbing my clit.
“Fuck. Yeah, that’s it,” he says roughly in my ear. “Bring yourself off. I want you coming hard and squeezing my cock like a vise.”
The rubbing of my clit increases. I’m turned on beyond rationale. I just need to come. Nothing but that matters right now.
I tilt my head back, watching back at him. His hand slips from my mouth and his fingers tangle in my hair. Gripping the strands, he pulls my mouth to his, and he kisses me deep and hard. With the feel of his tongue against mine, his cock inside me, and my fingers rubbing my clit, I come hard, moaning my orgasm into his mouth.
“Fuck…” he whisper-groans. “Your pussy feels so fucking tight around my cock.”
He pumps into me a few more times, and then I feel his body tensing in preparation for his release.
“I’m coming, babe,” he whispers. “I’m coming inside your hot tight pussy.”
I watch his face as he comes down from his orgasm. I love the look of pleasure in his eyes and the love he feels for me that’s all on display. I’ve never been loved before the way Leandro loves me. I didn’t even know a love like this existed.
I swipe my tongue over her lower lip. “Babe, when I’m done with you, you won’t even remember what year it is.”
She smiles against my lips. “I adore you, Leandro Silva.”
“And I adore you. Now, let’s go upstairs, so I can show you exactly how much.”
I’M STARING AT LEANDRO lying next to me in bed, watching him sleep. His long black eyelashes fanning his skin. His hair all tousled and caressing his forehead. He looks beautiful.
Jett and I are with Leandro in Italy. We’re staying in a stunning two-bedroom suite in Milan, just ten miles away from the Monza track. We’ve being relaxing for the last few days, just sightseeing and eating true Italian food.
Tomorrow, Leandro has qualifying. Jett loves attending all these races, traveling to all the different countries.
It’s been a week since I went to the police station and told them that Paul was blackmailing me. Telling the whole story to the officers was horrible, and I could see the judging looks in their eyes when I told them that Leandro used to be my patient. But I guess I’m going to have to get used to those kinds of looks.
The HCPC wasn’t any easier. It was worse. My practice license has been suspended, pending review. Even though I confessed to them about being in a relationship with a prior patient, I have to go through the official process. Leandro and I might have no longer been patient and therapist when we got together, but we shared a kiss while I still was treating him. That matters to the board.
And it matters to me.
Even though I love my job, I just don’t feel the same way about it as I used to anymore. As devastating as it is to not be able to help people anymore, I know this is the right thing.
The only person I care about not thinking badly of me is Jett. And thank God, he doesn’t. My son is wise beyond his years.
After I had been to the police and the HCPC, I sat Jett down and told him everything. About how Leandro and I met. About his father being released from prison. The break-in. Paul trying to blackmail me. I didn’t want Jett finding out from anyone else.
And after I’d told him all of this, he said to me, “As long as you are okay and you’re happy with Leandro, that’s all that matters to me. The rest is just white noise.”
I cried. How could I not? I knew right then, hugging my son, that everything would be okay. That everything would right itself, and that everything happens for a reason.
Paul was arrested and put back in prison for violating his parole, meaning he’ll serve out the rest of his sentence. And he will stand trial for attempted blackmail and extortion. Once again, I’ll be a witness at his trial. Ultimately, it’s my word against his, in regard to the blackmail attempt. But my laptop and the documents about Leandro that Paul had printed out, were seized at his house.
The fact that, by coming forward, I had everything to lose and nothing to gain will show that I’m telling the truth. I’m hoping that he will be sentenced for it, adding a few more years to his jail term. I’m praying by the time Paul gets out, Jett will be a grown man, and hopefully, Paul will have the foresight to leave us all alone.
School is still out for the holidays, going back next week, and Leandro was having a hard time with the thought of leaving us even though Paul was back behind bars, so we came with him to Monza for this leg of the Prix.
I’m feeling relaxed and safe for the first time since Paul got out of prison. And I’m just relieved that everything is out in the open.
The press hasn’t gotten wind of the story about Paul, or how Leandro and I met. Maybe they will. Maybe they won’t. If they do, then we’ll deal with it together.
“You’re watching me sleep,” he murmurs, surprising me, eyes still closed. His voice is rough with sleep, and sexy as hell.
“I might be.” I curl into his side, hooking my leg over his hip and feeling his morning wood beneath my leg. “You just look so adorable when you sleep.”
He opens one eye, peeking at me. “The last thing I am is adorable. You, on the other hand…” He opens his other eye as one hand skims down over my bum, curling around my thigh, under my pajama shorts, to touch my quickly dampening knickers with his fingertips.
I gasp at his featherlight touch. “Jett might be awake.”
“Then, we’ll be quiet.” He gives me that sexy grin of his that instantly has me doing what he wants.
My response is to kiss him. His fingers slip inside my knickers, and he pushes one inside me.
“God,” I breathe as he fingers me, rubbing my clit with his thumb. “I need to touch you.” I push my hand into his pajama bottoms and palm his cock. Gripping it, I stroke it up and down. I love the hiss of air that escapes him at my touch.
The next thing I know, my shorts and knickers are being pulled down my legs, and I’m none too gently turned over, facing away from him.
“Part your legs,” he whispers into my ear.
I do as he asks. I feel the head of his cock rubbing over my entrance, up to my clit, and back down again before he pushes inside me.
“Fuck,” he groans in my ear. His hand slips under my pajama top, and he palms my breast, pinching my nipple.
A cry escapes me.
“Shh,” he whispers, his other hand comes up to cover my mouth as he slowly moves in and out of me. “Do I need to gag you, babe? Or will you be a good girl?”
The thought of him gagging me excites me along with the feel of his hand against my mouth, but I shake my head. “I’ll be good,” I murmur against his hand.
Keeping his hand over my mouth, his other hand pinches my nipple again. I sink my teeth against his palm. He groans and starts fucking me harder. The sound of his flesh slapping against mine is such a turn-on.
“Rub your pussy, India. I want you to touch yourself.”
I’ve never touched myself in front of him before, but the thought thrills me.
I press my fingers to my pussy, letting the tips of my fingers touch his cock as it thrusts in and out. Then, I start rubbing my clit.
“Fuck. Yeah, that’s it,” he says roughly in my ear. “Bring yourself off. I want you coming hard and squeezing my cock like a vise.”
The rubbing of my clit increases. I’m turned on beyond rationale. I just need to come. Nothing but that matters right now.
I tilt my head back, watching back at him. His hand slips from my mouth and his fingers tangle in my hair. Gripping the strands, he pulls my mouth to his, and he kisses me deep and hard. With the feel of his tongue against mine, his cock inside me, and my fingers rubbing my clit, I come hard, moaning my orgasm into his mouth.
“Fuck…” he whisper-groans. “Your pussy feels so fucking tight around my cock.”
He pumps into me a few more times, and then I feel his body tensing in preparation for his release.
“I’m coming, babe,” he whispers. “I’m coming inside your hot tight pussy.”
I watch his face as he comes down from his orgasm. I love the look of pleasure in his eyes and the love he feels for me that’s all on display. I’ve never been loved before the way Leandro loves me. I didn’t even know a love like this existed.
