Love LockDown (9 page)

“Two bottles of my usual on ice, please.” He tells the waitress, and then she leaves.

“That’s Heidi’s daughter Sarah, she’s worked here for about three years now.” He told me clearly seeing the unexplained jealousy my face was showing. “So Abbi, how are you settling in?” his emerald eyes captivate me.

“It’s a wonderful change. I still can’t get over it or understand what I have done to deserve it. But yes, I’m settling in okay, just trying to get used to the safety of a home.” I explain to him still staring at his eyes.

“Your home,” He corrects me. “And I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

“So, answer me something Leighton. How does an owner of a restaurant afford a home like yours? Sorry ours?” I correct myself before he has a chance to.

“Hmm yes, that is a good question. Truth is Angelo’s is to stop the boredom, I afford our home through my other profession and some of my money comes from inheritance. My other business is carried on from my father.”

“And that is?” I probe him to explain further.

“Well, if I told you that I’d have to kill you. Not many know about my real job, and until I know you a little better, I can’t tell you anymore, I’m sorry. It’s for your own safety as well as mine.” I look at him confused, raising my eyebrow at his reference to my safety.

“My own safety?” I question him. I thought I had gotten away from any danger, that I would now be safe. Maybe I had just gone from the frying pan to the God damn fire.

“Ah - ha, sorry Abbi, I really can’t talk anymore about it. Maybe one day. Let’s enjoy dinner.” On cue the waitress returns with the requested wine and places it on the table. Pouring us both a glass, she returns the wine to the ice bucket.

“Mr Lock, what can I get you to eat?” she asks Leighton.

“I’ll have Rigatoni con la Pagliata, Abbi what would you like?” his Italian pronunciation perfect, the liquid words making my stomach tense as little butterflies begin to take flight once again.

“Hmm, I don’t really know any Italian dishes other than Spaghetti and meatballs. So I guess I’m having Spaghetti and meatballs of some sort.” I tell him nervously, waiting for somebody to laugh at me.

“Sounds good. I’ll be back with them when they’re ready.” Sarah states then wanders off.

Leighton and I talk about random things for twenty minutes solid before the waitress returns with the most delicious smelling food.

“Thanks.” I tell her when she places the hot bowl in front of me.

“Dig in.” Leighton tells me before stabbing the fork into his own food.

I take my first mouthful and feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. “That is so fucking good.” I slap my hand over my mouth quickly praying nobody in this posh restaurant heard my filthy potty mouth.

Leighton begins to laugh at me. “Relax Abbi; don’t worry about what others think. I happen to love your dirty mouth.” My hormones were seriously playing havoc right now because I couldn’t help but squirm in my chair.

I smile back at him and continue to eat the orgasmic tomato and beef infusion.

Slurping my last string of spaghetti, I sigh and rub my full belly. Leighton, having finished a good five minutes ago, is staring at me eating.

“Reminds me of Lady and the Tramp that.” Leighton tells me.

“Should really be Lord and the Tramp?” I laugh at my own joke.

“Abbi. Enough!” he spits at me causing me to jump at his authoritative tone a little. “Enough with degrading yourself, do you understand me?” he stares at me with deadly eyes. “One more time and I’ll stick to my threat.”

I gulp. “Yes sir, Sorry.” I apologize to him.

I see his eyes sparkle with something enticing as I say the word Sir “It’s okay Abbi; I just don’t like women talking so badly about themselves. Now let’s finish this last bottle of wine off and then maybe we could have something a little stronger with our dessert.”

Stronger, hmm a nice scotch would be lovely right now, a nice, expensive scotch. The cheap whiskey I had sampled in the last three years on occasion, from the men I slept with for a little money, tasted like a shitty ashtray, literally.

“Sure thing Batman.” I down the remainder of my glass “hit me.” I push my empty glass toward him and he pours the last dribbles into my glass and his.

The refreshing white wine floods my mouth, onto my tongue and through my veins, relaxing me. After four glasses I’m starting to feel slightly pissed.

“Now what would you like for dessert? And what would you like to drink?”

“I would like a scotch for my drink, and for pudding,” I tap my chin thinking. There was only one thing I fancied eating right now and he sat in front of me. My big, drunk mouth verbalises before my conscience and sensibility kicks in. “I’d like,” I continued my over dramatic brain searching “why Leighton, it seems I’d like you.” My big blue eyes are sizing him up like pray.

Damn I am becoming far too aroused. I shouldn’t be, not after everything I have been through in my god forsaken life, but this man, this sexy mind consuming man is making me want things that are so wrong, but by God they would feel so God damn good.

I hear him hiss through his teeth, straightening in his chair a little. “That’s not a good idea. But the scotch? That I can get you.”

He signaled to the waitress with a flick of his hand in the air like he was all high and mighty, then I remembered he owned the bloody place and it caused me to laugh at myself.

“Sir?” the waitress simply asks.

“Two of my finest scotches please and we’ll take some chocolate cheesecake in case we change our minds about desert.” The thought of watching him eat chocolate cheesecake makes my mouth salivate, making me pleased that he has ordered it, just so I could watch him like a little pervert.

“Sure thing, Mr. Lock.” The waitress tells him before placing her little notepad in her apron and walking away.

“So, Mr. Lock, I guess we’re having desert after all.” I have to call him that name because it seems to be creeping up here, there and everywhere tonight.

“Maybe, maybe not, but if we don’t eat it we can always take it home and have it later or tomorrow. I’m not gonna lie it’s a pretty damn awesome cheesecake.”

Hmm, I’m sure it is
. I thought in my head. Everything about him seems to be awesome, so I am not going to second guess him in the slightest.

A few minutes later the same waitress returns with the requested items, two glasses with a beautiful amber liquid just calling for me to drink. I lift one of the glasses, inhaling the strong smell of the spirit, before tipping it slightly and taking a small sip.

God it is heavenly, so smooth and warming. My stomach ignites in flames as it slips down my throat and into the pit there.

“This is very good.” I tell Leighton as I take another sip, this time a little bigger.

“It should be at the price it cost.” I don’t even want to ask that question because I can guarantee it will blow my mind.

By ten O’clock in the evening I am plastered, after consuming four glasses of wine and following them with four scotches, my mouth seems to spit out what it wants to say and my libido is on overdrive.

My foot has been continuously, but haphazardly, trying to slide itself along the length of Leighton’s leg for the past hour, with obvious refusal from him. It is a kick to my ego that’s for sure, because I am practically handing myself to him on a plate. I am sure he has never ignored the female attention this much before and it is kind of disheartening.

“Come on you, let’s get you home.” Leighton lifts me from my seat, and I fall dramatically into his arms, causing him to cling tighter onto me, those glorious arms flexing and tensing as he strains to hold my dead drunk weight up. He escorts me through the restaurant to the car waiting on the curb outside. He assists me into my seat, helping to buckle me in, before climbing into the other side. He pulls me into his side, stopping my limp body before it collapses on him.

“You’re a funny drunk Abbi. Do you know that? I had a lovely time this evening, thank you.” He tells me. I laugh rather loudly in the car as the driver pulls away from the curb.

“An yourwa sexy Dwunk.” I slur out. My mouth is at it again, no filtration system in there. I am letting whatever comes to my head fall out of my lips and just praying, that when the sun rose in the morning, my whole drunken stupor would have been forgotten, that whatever happened tonight would just vanish. I really didn’t want this lovely man remembering me as a stupid, immature, drunken mess.

I lean further into the comfort of his side, my body tired and numb from the effects of the alcohol and the events of the last day, my head is dizzy, the confinements of the car spinning even as I close my eyes. I had clearly consumed far too much scotch. I close my eyes, fighting through the head spin, Leighton’s warm and welcoming body assists me to drift off.

*****

“Come on sleepy, let’s get you to bed.” I feel myself being carried up the stairs like I weigh nothing. I hear my door open and then feel the softness of my bed hitting my back. I open my eyes to see his peering back at me.

The room still spun a little, but he kindly dims the bright florescent light to a warm welcoming aura.

“Is it okay for me to help you out of your clothes?” he asks sweetly, obviously not wanting to frighten me. He had already seen my reaction to anyone being near me, yesterday. From that, I can ascertain he has gaged the extent of my mental trauma. So why was it, right now, my mind couldn’t seem to remember what had happened to me before, all it could see were those two intense, smoldering green eyes that are peering at me from above the bed, swallowing me, consuming me, possessing every damn inch of me until I can’t breathe properly.

I just nod, smiling soppily at him, unable to get myself to function fully under his heavy gaze.

He gently pulls my jeans down my legs, removing them from my body before assisting me to sit. He slowly unbuttons my blouse, delicately slipping each button through its hole and then removes it from me.

“You’re far too skinny Abbi, I can’t wait for you to put a little weight on and fill those curves out a little better.” That is not a good thing to say whilst being within kissing distance. Please don’t talk about my body because at the mention of it has me wishing he was all over it. I want to grab his collar on his shirt and drag his lips to meet mine.

“Could you grab me a nighty from the closet please?” I ask him.

He turns and walks away; I sneakily and hurriedly remove my bra and panties and throw them on the floor before lying back down on my bed. Naked.

“Jesus Christ.” I hear him hiss through his obviously clenched teeth. “You need to get dressed now.” I see him trying to turn away, talking to himself “God this is so wrong, I need to stop now.” He ponders as he tries to avoid any eye contact with my naked form.

Hmm that’s kind of the plan nob end. “Maybe I don’t want to get dressed; maybe I don’t want you to stop.” My drunkenness was causing me to be far more brazen than usual. Usually the thought of another person’s hands near my body sent me into a panic attack. I normally can’t breathe, or move but right now, this minute I want nothing more than Leighton to be buried inside me.

“Don’t say that Abbi.” He warns me.

“What don’t say how much I want you inside me, your body pressed to mine whilst you slide in and out of me.” I feel myself growing wet, a feeling I wasn’t used to.

“Seriously, this cannot happen. It is not the right time or place for this. You are not ready for anything like this. Jesus twenty four hours ago you didn’t want anyone touching you, now you want me fucking you. You need to take time and sort yourself out Abbi; I can’t take advantage of you when you’re like this.” He walks to me handing me the nighty before turning and walking from the room.

“Goodnight Abbi. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

“I’m sorry, since when do you know what is right for me. You don’t know me, or what I’ve been through, so don’t think for a second that you understand what I want, need or can handle. I’ve been through worse than you ever saw in that alley yesterday and I’m still here so if I say I’m ready to have sex with someone then I’m fucking ready. You do not get to decide that, I DO!” I lecture him, becoming loud, and even starting to shout. And too right, I am fed up with men thinking they know everything.

“I’m sorry.” He says with his back to me. I can tell my fierce outburst has affected him. “Jesus Christ.”

I know I am going to have to make the first move here because he is clearly fighting against every urge he has,

I spread myself out of the bed sheets, my naked breasts attacked by the cool air, my nipples puckering instantly. I let my legs fall open, the very same air hitting me there, my juices trickling my thighs.

“Could you help me get the nighty on please?” I ask him and he sighs before turning and heading towards me.

His hand falters as he takes in my giving body with his aroused dark eyes “Fuck.” I hear his footsteps pounding on the floor boards coming towards me. I mentally clap myself for how quickly I had gotten him to snap and back down.

His hands grab my ankles and drag me down the bed, my legs hanging off the end.

He bends over me, his hands framing either side of my head, his lips mere centimeters from mine. I can smell the scotch on his breathe, the musky scent of his aftershave flooding my nostrils.

“This is happening.” I tell him before he has a chance to change his mind. I grab his collar and pull his lips to mine. Soft and gentle, tasting and savoring him. The deep grumbling within his chest is a good sign, I presume, so I continue.

He pulls his mouth from mine a moment later, his wet lips pulling against mine. “Abbi, this isn’t a good idea sweetheart. You’ll feel differently tomorrow.” He warns me again and I know I have to shut that up now. I thread my fingers through his hair, once again, pulling him to me.

My lips hit his harder this time, more aggressively, more passionately. My tongue seeks entrance, licking and lapping at the seam of his lips. He tries his hardest to deny me, to fight me off but I keep pushing, desperate for his mouth, desperate to taste him on my needy tongue. He eventually grants me access and I take advantage. I push my tongue into his warm cavern, licking at his own. I sigh into the kiss, the taste of him just as exquisite as everywhere else.