Page 18 of Jump-Start
My head is pounding. I have no idea what time it is, only that these soft bed sheets don’t belong to me. Mine are rough and itchy because they were cheap the day I got them. These are not cheap. They feel like someone transported clouds from the sky to the ground and then wove them into the shape of bedsheets. I know they’re Leonard’s. I also know they aren’t the ones I slept in the last time I was here.
“How are you feeling?” his familiar voice says, and I open my heavy eyes to see him place down the guitar he must have been holding. Then, Benz comes running at me, licking my face now that I’m awake. I wish I could smile, but I’m too confused.
Why am I in Leonard’s bed?
Why is he watching me like a creep from the couch he has in the corner?
What happened?
Why does my head hurt so much and my mouth feel like sandpaper?
Why the hell am I here and not in my flat?
Then it all comes crashing down on me. I lost my job. Leonard cost me my job by threatening my boss’s son. I slide out of bed without another moment of hesitation, ignoring the fact that I’m wearing a shirt that isn’t mine on top of the clothes I wore to work. I even ignore the soapy, fresh, and all Leonard scent hitting my nose because the rage inside of me is forcing me out the door. Unfortunately, I got up way too fast, causing my head to spin and my body to waver on my feet.
“For fuck’s sake, Starling, sit down,” he says, catching my forearm and pushing me back down on the bed.
“I don’t want to be here,” I say while he stands over me with his arms crossed and the usual frown on his face.
“You fucking fainted, Starling, what did you want me to do? Let you collapse on the ground next to your non-functional garbage bag on wheels?” A gasp leaves me.
“Watch how you speak about Delilah,” I spit back, and this man has the audacity to roll his eyes.
“Let’s not argue about that safety-breeching shitbox you call a car. I don’t have the patience to be mad right now,” he says, and I stand up again. This time, my head doesn’t take a spin and I remain upright, even though my brain is pounding in complaint.
“Why the hell would you be the mad one? You cost me my goddamn job. I won’t even be able to pay to fix Delilah now,” I say and walk over to where he placed my shoes on the ground.
“Good,” is his only response. I clench my hands into fists.
“Good?” I ask, the word falling from my lips with anger dripping from it.
“Yes, good.” Leonard’s arms remain in front of his chest as he studies me like he has no concern or worry in the world. I’m going to kill him.
“Would you like to have a fast death or a slow, torturous one?” I ask, and this asshole smirks in response. It’s a small one, but it’s so rare, it distracts me for a moment.
“I promised you I’d help you find a better job, and I never break my promises,” he says, and I close the distance between us, wishing I wasn’t as short as I am because he towers over me by at least a head.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask, our chests almost touching now. I watch his body tense as my breasts briefly graze his upper body.
“You can, but I probably won’t answer,” he replies, and I trail my eyes down his body then back up to his face.
“Does it make you hard to fuck with my life?” I say, and he takes a step back, but I follow him. “Do you get off on making me angry with you?” I go on, and his body hits the wall behind him. “Are you horny for me, Champ?” He grabs my hand right as I’m about to place it on his chest, his face leaning down to mine.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I feel anything but irritation for you,” he replies, and I give him a cocky smile because his body is telling a completely different story. He’s turned on. I can see it in his eyes and when my eyes drop to his bulge, I smirk.
“If you say so,” I reply, but he’s holding my wrist and keeping me so close to him, it sends heat between my legs. My clit aches in response to his body warmth and lips barely away from mine.
“You’re the one trapping me against the wall with a look in your eyes that’s begging me to fuck you hard, not the other way around, sweetheart,” he says, making me swallow hard and heavily.
“In your dreams,” I bite out, and he offers me a sigh that lingers in the air.
“Always fighting me.” Leonard drops my hand, breaking the sexual tension between us as he grabs me by the shoulders, gently but firmly, and guides me backward so he can step out of our confrontation.
As soon as he’s gone, heat fills my cheeks. What the hell was I thinking? Getting that close to him is a horrible, terrible idea. I wanted to tease him, piss him off a little maybe, but not the reaction our bodies had to the proximity. That’s the last thing I ever wanted.
“How much sleep had you gotten before you passed out on me?” he asks while he walks out of the room, expecting me to follow him to answer his damn question.
“Screw you,” I say, but the scent of food fills my nose. My stomach, growling and violently complaining, decides to do as Leonard wants, to find out what he’s preparing in the kitchen.
