27. Just For Tonight

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Of course this is where he brought me. Of course he's dragging me to his apartment to put up with whatever shit he's got in store for me. "Why are we here?" I ask. While I'm not happy he's brought me here, I don't have the will or energy to fight him on it. I'm exhausted and all I want to do is lie down and never wake up again. Maybe all he wants to do is have a drink?

Leon doesn't answer my question. He never normally does and it always irks me, but this time I let it slide. He unlocks the door and holds it open for me to enter. What a gentleman.

His place looks no different from what it did last time. Gosh, that was only last week, it feels like years ago. How did I get from living my life and getting by to working for one of New York's billionaires? How am I now supposedly engaged to said billionaire? The billionaire who shouldn't bat an eye at me, somehow now has me in his grasp and won't let go. I'm stuck. "You should really add more colour to the place." I suggest, noticing the lack thereof.

"Whatever you wish." He says, making me turn my head towards him. He's moved towards the kitchen where he grabbed two glasses and a bottle of red wine. His sleeves are now rolled up exposing his forearms that are chorded with this veins and all hard muscle. I try not to stare too long, and thankfully he doesn't seem to notice.

"What is that supposed to mean? Finally taking me up on my suggestions? You know I suggest that we should cut this whole arrangement off and never see eachother again."

"Well I suppose it is only fair you get a say in how your home looks." He says it so nonchalantly, like he's commenting on the weather and not telling me that I'm now to be living in his house. This man doesn't take a break from delivering me the most shocking of news. And he doesn't care how I feel about any of it. I suppose when you're as rich as he is, you don't worry about how anyone feels about anything.

"Look, I've dismissed the whole fiance thing for now, but moving in with you? No, not going to happen. We already need to try and find a way to shut down whatever the media will say about this fake engagement before it gets too big. Moving in with you is unnecessary."

"There's no need to shut down whatever rumors will appear because they are not rumors. You and I will be engaged, and to keep up appearances, you will be moving in with me." His dark eyes stare at me, waiting for a reaction, wanting a reaction. He's such a bully, he has no regard for how I feel.

"And how does Holland feel about all this?"

"I'm arranging a new place for him. It's time he moved out. And if you're talking about how he feels about the engagement, then I don't care. I told you that whatever was going on between you two needed to stop, and finally this will do that. I didn't want to interfere but you have made me." He picks up the glasses and rounds the kitchen island, holding one out to me. I hesitate before realising I need a drink and taking it from him with a bitter look.

We walk towards the couch and I slump down into it with the grace of an elephant. Leon sits beside me, leaning back into the cushions and spreading out his legs until I feel his knee graze upon mine. I shift away but he gives me a look that tells me I shouldn't. "I don't know how much longer I can fight you on these things." I admit, taking a big gulp of the wine. It's nice, fruity but not too sweet.

"Then stop."

"Stop?" I give him a curious glance.

"Stop fighting me. You're putting in so much energy, but not making any change. I'm not going to take back that I said you were my fiance and you will be living in this apartment. Just let me make these decisions and your life won't be nearly as hard. Maybe it'll actually be easy, and stress free." He shrugs.

"But I can't just do that. It's my life, and there are things that I want—"

"What is it that you want? I will give it to you. Anything, name the word and it is yours."

I let out a noise of frustration. That things are so simple for him, so black and white. It's not about things or money, it's about a life that I get to choose. I fought to be where I am today and I am still fighting and the consequences for that will haunt me until the day I die. And by the look of things, that might be a lot sooner than expected if I keep going where I am.

Things are so much harder when there are other people in the mix.

"Are you happy with the life you have?" I ask him, turning my body fully until we face each other. "I ask this in all seriousness."

For the first time, it looks as if Leon doesn't quite know what to say. Completely caught off guard by my question and change of topic, he opens his mouth only to close it again. He takes a long sip of his glass and then in a sigh of contemplation he nods his head. "I am. I'm the one who got myself here, and it is exactly where I wanted to be."

Despite his words, I sense that he's not telling the entire truth. I don't care to pry though.

"Exactly, you got yourself here. Not anyone else. You. That's what I want. I want to succeed by myself. I want to achieve a life I can be proud of. I don't want to take the easy route and I don't want someone else to make pivotal choices in my life for me."

Leon looks at me, but it's like he's booking at me for the first time. Like he truly understands where I'm coming from and why I fight him on everything. I do not do it because I hate him, though that may be a factor. But I don't want to live like a doll with other people pulling me strings. I've already lived a life like that, and know it's not for me.

Leaning over and placing his glass on the table, he sits up and moves closer until I can feel his breath along my cheek, and smell that musky cologne of his. His eyes look into mine and I cling to the hope that he finally understands and will leave me alone.

"Sometimes you don't get what you want in life." He breathes.

I let out a small sound, something like a cry of despair.

He raises a hand to my cheek, gently running his knuckles over the skin before cupping my face. "You're mine, Phoebe. Your life is mine now."

I don't realise I'm crying until he wipes a tear away with the pad of his thumb, lowering it until it grazes against my lips. He parts them with his finger and pushes it within my mouth, letting the saltiness run along my tongue. I don't fight him. I can't. Not right now at least. I'm so tired. So so tired. And the only person who seems to remotely care is the one who is making me this way.

He leans into me more, pushing his thumb as far as it can go until I start to choke and then he pulls it out. I stare at his face, waiting for his next move.

And then he kisses me.

At first it's soft, and his lips caress mine slowly, willing my lips to part and let him in. I don't at first, and then he becomes crazed. Biting my lip aggressively until I open for him. His tongue darts inside my mouth and wrestles with my own, fighting for dominance. Trying to take control.

His body moves onto mine, and pushes me down until my back lies flat against the couch and his body is atop mine, resting the weight of his presence upon me. His spare hand moves to once again cup my face, touching me with such vigour before moving downwards and skimming along my breast. As aggressive as his kiss and earlier touch was, he's almost hesitant as he touches me.

And then he pulls away, and the kiss breaks.

At the sudden loss of contact, I feel strangely bereft. But that couldn't be. Could it?

"You're mine. My fiance." His words are distant, way away from the both of us. I don't know whether he's trying to tell me, or reassure himself.

I reach out to touch his face, wanting to feel that warmth. "Just for tonight." I whisper.

He looks back down at me, my words grounding him.

"Just for tonight."

And then all hell breaks loose. 

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