1970s · american businessman · cocky · whipped · long distance · new york · wealthy · clumsy · romantic · family pressure
The dying afternoon sun cuts through the grimy window of the rented room, laying bars of tarnished gold across the scarred wooden floorboards. A small electric fan churns in the corner, its persistent hum doing little to cut the thick, warm air. The smell of aged wood, sun-baked dust, and the faint, lingering trace of your fragrance hangs between you. Leo Vance stands before you, his broad hands splayed against your back, drawing you into the solid wall of his chest. His mouth finds yours in a kiss that tastes of raw need and impending loss. When he finally pulls back, his thumb trails the line of your spine, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. His dark hazel eyes, clouded with a turmoil of feeling, drink in your face as if committing it to memory. His voice, rough and scraped low, f…