LEELA: The Series
A story about a woman who, like many of us, knows how to give love to everyone but herself.
New Episodes every Saturday @10am EST
Start at the Beginning…
Call me Sophie (Ep 2)
Addy’s eyes are intense.
Pure green focus.
“Okay. I’ll walk us through today’s operation.”
Her light pink suit looks like it was poured instead of tailored– smooth and seamless.
Wide leg trousers, a demure fitted blazer that flares at the bottom, and just a hint of the white corset that’s hiding underneath.
It was the kind of outfit so stunning you pretended it was professional.
None of this was lost on Tanvi.
Who gathered her breath and reminded herself that she was a grown-ass woman with a job to do.
She crossed her arms and leaned back before glancing over at Tatum.
He’s wearing jeans, a white shirt, and a bright orange construction vest.
He gives the smallest nod, and together they turn back to “The Princess.”
“Alright, Lil’ Miss Diva, let’s see what you got.”
Addy used to be an all-county athlete in high school.
She’s competitive, and you can see it in her body language.
This matters.
She’s holding a tablet in front of what looks like a wall of screens.
The room is outlined on three sides with floor-to-ceiling windows.
Luxury meets utility.
Danny Ocean and the boys would be jealous.
Addy swipes.
“Today we have a low-risk encounter. The client’s name is Barry Goldstein. Leela departs in forty-five minutes with an 8am ETA.”
“What’s the protocol for a so-called low-risk encounter?” Tanvi tests.
Addy doesn’t miss a beat.
“No live surveillance required unless the risk profile changes. Even so, Tatum maintains five-minute proximity at all times.”
Tatum doesn’t look at the screen.
He’s focused on Addy, scanning the intangibles.
Tanvi interrupts.
“How the hell is he supposed to know whether or not he’s in proximity? What if they go for a walk? Or she gets stuffed into the back of a van?”
Addy nods, bringing up a schematic.
“Leela has a micro-GPS transponder—a sub-dermal implant—above her right ear that gives us her location at all times.”
“What’s to keep a bad actor from noticing it while he’s nibbling on her ear?”
“It’s essentially invisible. Concealed beneath her hairline.”
Tatum raises his eyebrow slightly. He’s not exactly impressed, but she hasn’t fumbled any of the easy stuff.
Addy continues.
“The tracker can be deactivated or reactivated via a specific pressure sequence.”
Tatum speaks. Calm. Deliberate.
“Why would she need to turn it off?”
Addy fires off her best guess.
“Privacy? Maybe she’s in a private moment with a client and doesn’t want—”
“Wrong.”
Tanvi pounces like she’s been waiting for a slip-up.
“Leela would never turn off her tracker when she’s with a client. Never. Her location is known at all times during an engagement. That’s non-negotiable.”
Addy nods, cheeks flushing.
“Right…of course.”
Tatum re-centers.
“So why then?”
Addy purses her lips as she thinks, then her eyes light up.
“Security scans.”
Silence.
“High-end venues, private clubs, foreign dignitaries—they can be known to sweep for active transmitters. If it’s broadcasting, it could flag her.”
Tatum affirms with a slight bow, then asks.
“And what’s the other case?”
“When she’s not with a client. On personal time. She can turn it off then.”
Tanvi whispers under her breath.
“Why don’t you just give her the answers…”
Tatum pretends to be more pleased than he actually is, just to spite her.
“Good job.”
Tanvi jumps in.
“What if something goes wrong during this so-called low-risk encounter? With no surveillance, how do we even know about it?”
Addy is rediscovering her rhythm.
“Leela has two distress options when operating under a low-risk protocol.”
“Distress options?”
Tanvi covers her face with her hands and exhales.
She looks at Tatum.
“Did you help her study for this?”
Addy ignores it.
“One is an anklet charm. A specific pressure sequence sends a signal to her phone, which in turn relays that signal to us.”
Tatum interrupts this time.
“What happens if she’s out of range from her phone?”
“If the charm loses proximity to the phone, it auto-escalates the encounter to Amber.”
“Amber?” Tanvi presses.
Addy answers without hesitation.
“The risk level increases and Tatum initiates visual contact.”
Tanvi has heard enough jargon for one morning.
“JESUS Christ, Tatum!”
She looks at him with disdain, then turns to Addy.
“Note for next time—put everything he tells you through Google Translate before you go around repeating it.”
Addy smiles. Just a touch.
“The second is via a manual transponder concealed in her handbag. This gives her the ability to adjust the threat level in response to immediate circumstances in real time.”
Tanvi exhales, exhausted.
“Alright, one more question…and don’t you dare hold out on us.”
Tanvi swivels toward Barry’s name on the board.
Tatum smirks, already knows where this is going.
“How hot is Mister Barry Goldstein?”
Addy blinks.
“On a scale of one to Tatum?”
She pretends to give the question serious consideration.
“I’d say a seven and a half.”
The veterans lock eyes, sharing a smile.
“Is that it?” Addy asks, scanning both of them in expectation.
“How did I do?”
Tanvi unfolds her arms and looks at Tatum.
His nod is almost imperceptible.
“I mean, I’m deducting points for vocabulary words but…”
Tatum interrupts.
“You passed.”
Addy erupts in glee, wrapping her arms around Tatum’s neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.
Tatum blushes into a smile.
“Thank you so much, Tatey!”
Tanvi’s reaction is priceless.
Quietly mouthing “Tatey” to absolutely no one.
“That’s got to be some kind of sexual harassment…” she says loud enough for them both to hear.
Tatum gathers his gear and moves towards the door.
“Good job, Princess. Keep going like this,” Tatum says quietly, “and you’ll be running point by spring. I’ll check in once I’m on site.”
Addy watches him leave with a smile.
Tanvi doesn’t look up from her screens.
“He’s not lying, you know.”
Addy turns.
“He never compliments anyone unless he means it. Ever. So if Tatum says you’re good?”
Tanvi finally looks at her.
“You’re good.”
Addy puts the tablet down.
Her hands are finally steady.
Tanvi turns back to her screen.
“By the way–if I ever had a nickname like ‘Princess’—I’d kill myself.”
***
Barry sits in the car.
Engine idling. AC blasting. Hands gripping the wheel.
He stares at the ten-story Miami Beach office building through the windshield.
His phone sits on the center console.
He picks it up.
Barry: I can’t get myself to go inside!
Heidi responds almost instantly.
Heidi: Nervous?
Barry: YES!
Barry: I feel like a teenager again
He imagined Heidi smiling through the phone.
Heidi: Lol, it’s gonna be fine!
Heidi: I might be even more excited than you are
Barry eyes the phone suspiciously.
Barry: Is this a trap?
Heidi: Lol, no. You know how I go to the spa to feel pampered and cared for?
Barry: Yes
Heidi: Think of it like that. My way to say thank you for everything you’ve done for us. I mean, it’s your 60th Birthday!!! We’re shaking things up.
Barry doesn’t really know how to respond, so he chooses honesty.
Barry: Thanks, baby. Your approval means a lot.
Barry: You sure you’re okay with this?
No hesitation.
Heidi: Omg YES! If you don’t have the time of your life, I’m going to be pissed!
Heidi: She is NOT cheap!!!
Barry smiles at his phone, shaking his head.
Barry: I love you
Heidi: I love you too!
Heidi: Now go get em’, tiger!
He can almost feel her, and it makes him grin.
***
The morning sun is already aggressive.
As Barry crosses the parking lot toward his office, he passes a construction worker setting up a surveying tripod near the property line.
Orange vest.
Reflective sunglasses.
Hard hat pulled low.
The kind of body that looks like it was earned through testing its limits.
They make eye contact.
Barry nods.
“It’s gonna be a hot one today.”
The worker tips his hat—barely, just a fraction of acknowledgement.
Less than 5 minutes away.
***
Barry steps through the office door, shoulders back, trying to pretend his stomach isn’t in knots.
He pauses.
Casually glancing left, then right.
Then he sees her.
Leela.
Sitting near the reception desk, composed and alert.
She’s dressed head-to-toe in charcoal — a single-breasted pantsuit that’s spectacularly understated.
Hair pulled into a sleek, tight ponytail. She doesn’t need the help. She makes it look effortless.
She stands as she sees him — graceful, unhurried.
Her cheeks don’t move, but her eyes smile, like she’s thankful he arrived safely.
Sophie stands too, posture eager and attentive.
Leela takes note.
In any other office, on any other morning, Sophie would register without question —undeniably attractive in a mauve pleated skirt and wispy chocolate polka-dot blouse.
Thin, shapely legs on full display, and accented with cappuccino-brown leather pumps.
Barry doesn’t even look at her.
“Buenos días,” Leela says, closing the distance.
She offers her hand.
Barry takes it, catching a hint of her spicy fragrance.
Then, as natural as breathing, she leans in and presses a light kiss to each of his cheeks.
Barry’s eyes dart instinctively toward Sophie, eyebrows lifting just a touch.
“Buenos días,” he says, pushing confidence into his voice like air into a leaky tire.
Leela’s gaze drifts around the space, taking in the clean lines, color scheme, and soft light.
“Did you decorate this place yourself?” she asks. “It’s beautiful.”
Barry laughs, relieved to have something safe to hold onto.
“No, no — that’s my wife, Heidi. She has the eye. I just signed the checks.”
He gestures toward his office. “Shall we?”
Leela doesn’t move.
Instead, she looks at him with playful reproach, head tilting slightly.
“Barry,” she says chidingly. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Barry freezes. His eyes widen.
“I’m so sorry.” He turns quickly toward Sophie. “Leela, this is my assistant, Sophie. Sophie, this is Leela.”
Sophie looks up at him with questions in her eyes.
“She’ll be spending some time with us this week,” Barry continues. “She’s a top-rate consultant, here to observe our processes and see where we can improve efficiency.”
Leela steps toward Sophie immediately, taking both of her hands in hers.
The hint of her Miami-Cuban accent adding warmth.
“Very nice to meet you, Sophie. I’m really looking forward to learning all about this place from the woman who actually runs it.”
She pauses, letting the moment settle, then adds with a warm wink,
“From what I hear, you’re a dangerously capable woman.”
Sophie blushes, looks at Barry, then back at Leela, forgetting to speak entirely.
“Do you like coffee?” Barry asks quickly.
Breaking the silence before it has a chance to fracture into something awkward.
“Are you kidding?” Leela’s eyebrows narrow, and her face shifts with a playful smirk.
“I run on two things–music and cafecito.”
“Drink of choice?”
“Cortadito, for me, please.”
Barry turns toward Sophie.
“Sophie, can you make a run? Two cortaditos. And whatever you’d like.”
Sophie nods.
“Nice to meet you.”
She murmurs in Leela’s direction, already moving towards the door.
Halfway there, she pivots, heading directly back to her desk.
“I forgot my purse,” she says sheepishly.
Leela calls out.
“Actually, Sophie…wait up, I’ll go with you.”
Barry looks at Leela, completely caught off guard.
She deciphers the question in his eyes and replies innocently.
“I was thinking that she and I could spend a little time together. I’d love to get to know the operation from her perspective. Ladies tend to notice the little things the boys miss.”
Sophie smiles reflexively, then looks at Barry.
His eyes are filled with concern.
“It’s fine! I’ll have her back in no time,” Leela adds casually.
“I’ll even bring you back an order of croquettes.”
Barry exhales, thinking.
“Well…”
He resigns playfully.
“...how could I say no to croquettes?”
Leela smiles proudly and places her hand gently on Sophie’s forearm.
“Come on,” she says. “My treat.”
Sophie looks down at Leela’s hand.
Then up to her mouth.
Leela pretends not to notice, turning toward the door and holding it open.
Sophie walks through with a timid bow.
Leela hesitates on the threshold, glancing back at Barry.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have her back by ten.”
She winks.
They both disappear, leaving Barry standing alone, heart and mind racing.
Wondering what the hell he had just gotten himself into.
***
The coffee shop was quieter than Sophie expected for that hour of the morning — low bolero music and the gentle hum of conversation wrapping them in something almost private.
Leela chose the table, small and round, close enough that their knees nearly touched when they sat.
“So…”
Leela said easily, wrapping her fingers around her tiny cortadito.
“How do you like working for Barry?”
Sophie’s smile is almost automatic.
It was an answer she’d given dozens of times — to friends, to her mom, to herself.
“It’s good. Better than my last job. Barry’s a good boss.”
Leela tilts her head.
“And what makes him such a ‘good boss’?”
Sophie opens her mouth, then slows. She thinks about it — the way Barry listens, the way he anticipates problems, the way he makes her feel competent and seen.
“He’s kind,” she says finally. “Fair. Brilliant. He actually listens. He—”
She laughs, cutting herself off.
“Sorry. That sounded like a LinkedIn post.”
“That’s a strange statement.”
Leela tilts her head curiously.
Sophie shifts uncomfortably, feeling secrets slipping from her grasp.
Leela remains locked, putting on the act of someone connecting the dots.
“Oh my god,” she says lightly, putting it all together.
“You have a crush on Barry.”
Heat floods Sophie’s face instantly.
“What? No, not at all. He’s just… a genuinely great guy.”
Leela glances around the café, slow and deliberate, even peeking under the table.
“What are you looking for?” Sophie asks, half-laughing.
“Cameras.”
Sophie blinks.
“Cameras?”
Leela leans forward, lowering her voice.
“Because you’re talking like we’re being recorded.”
Leela laughs.
Sophie laughs too, the tension easing.
“Sophie,” Leela says, softer now. “I’m a woman too, and I recognize chemistry when I see it.” She pauses.
“Tell me you’ve never thought about him like that. Not even once.”
Sophie presses her lips together. A lie forms, then dissolves.
“Okay,” she admits, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe once. Or twice. But that’s it. I swear.”
Leela grins.
“Finally!” She raises her cup. “Cheers to honesty.”
Sophie can’t help herself, their cups meet, and it suddenly feels like they’re no longer strangers.
“Can I tell you something?” Leela asks. “Woman to woman?”
“Please.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling,” Leela says. “Barry is sexy. I’m not going to pretend he isn’t.”
She reaches across the table and takes Sophie’s hands. The touch is warm, grounding.
“But he’s never going to be able to give you what you deserve.”
Sophie studies her, searching for judgment. She finds only compassion.
“You’re young, smart, beautiful, and ambitious,” Leela continues. “And sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between wanting approval from someone you admire and wanting something more. Especially when you work that closely together.”
She pauses, eyes drifting somewhere else—backward.
“You get so in tune,” Leela says quietly. “You start anticipating each other. Reading each other. Finishing each other’s sentences. It can feel almost… more intimate than a relationship.”
Sophie’s chest tightens.
“And you want more.”
Leela looks lost, like she’s reliving a memory.
When she speaks again, her voice has changed.
“But once you cross that line, Sophie, there’s baggage, and it poisons everything. Not just for you—for him, too.”
She swallows.
“Because the version of you he fantasizes about? She isn’t real.”
A tear slips down Leela’s cheek before she can stop it.
“His version of you doesn’t need anything,” she says. “She doesn’t get scared. She doesn’t disappoint him. She doesn’t get jealous or voice her insecurities. She’s composed of only your best parts. And when he realizes you’re human…”
Her voice falters.
“His disappointment will break you in ways you never imagined.”
Leela dabs at her cheek, embarrassed, then laughs softly.
Locking eyes with Sophie.
“Wow. That got deep fast.”
Sophie squeezes her hand instinctively, doing her best to transmit comfort.
“No… I get it.”
Leela smiles—warm, reassuring, almost protective.
“You deserve to be wanted and real at the same time. Exceptional and flawed. And free.”
She lets go of Sophie’s hand.
“I’m talking way too much for a first coffee date.”
Sophie laughs.
“You know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“I really do get it. And I think I needed it.”
Leela checks her watch.
“Ay Dios mío, I need to get you back. I promised Barry I’d have you by ten.”
Leela grabs her purse, but Sophie remains motionless, looking up at her with genuine feeling.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie says.
Leela turns, questioning.
“For whatever he did to you,” Sophie adds. “Men suck.”
Leela lingers for a moment beside the table, the light catching her profile, as she slips on her sunglasses.
“If only it were that simple.”
***
The office door opens.
Sophie walks in first, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
Barry looks up from his perch behind Sophie’s desk, smiling.
“You’re late! How was it?”
“Good,” Sophie says quickly. “Really good.”
She makes eye contact with Leela and smiles like they are sharing an inside joke.
“She’s wonderful,” Leela says to Barry. “I don’t know what you are paying her, but it should be more.”
Barry beams.
“I know.”
Sophie sets her bag down at her desk, fingers fumbling slightly with the strap.
Leela catches Barry’s eye and hands him a cute pink paper bag with the words, From Cuba with Coffee printed on the side.
“You remembered?”
She rolls her eyes dramatically.
“¡Oye, por favor! Of course, I remembered. Now, are you ready for me?”
He moves past her into his office, pulling a small box from the bag.
“I’m ready for these croquettes!”
Leela laughs, pausing at Sophie’s desk before following.
“Thank you for the date, girlie,” she says warmly. “I really enjoyed our conversation.”
Sophie looks up, something unspoken passing between them.
“Me too,” she says softly.
Leela winks, then follows Barry into his office.
After the door closes.
Sophie sits at her desk, staring at her computer screen.
Hands shaking.
She’s not sure why.
She looks at her laptop screen.
Replaying every word of Leela’s confession, her tears, and the way she was still so obviously affected after all of the years.
***
Addy’s jacket is draped over her arm as she peruses the various booths.
Upper Buena Vista was one of her favorite places.
An outdoor collective of local merchants, selling unique goods at a reasonable price.
Her AirPod is in her right ear, and she talks as she browses.
“You really need to get over here. I just found a gorgeous pair of Hermes heels for $40.”
She knew that Tanvi didn’t wear heels, but she didn’t care; she had to share her excitement with someone.
She looked around at the thatch roofing and gorgeous cloth shade covers.
“It feels like Tulum.”
Tanvi’s voice fills her ear, ignoring her entirely.
“Just sent it.”
Addy checked her phone and confirmed.
Tanvi spoke again.
“So. Tonight. Second date, right?”
Addy laughs, relief flooding through her.
“Yup!”
“What’s her name again?”
“Maya.”
“Maya—like Buddha’s arch-nemesis?”
Addy pauses, asking one of the vendors a question about a piece of jewelry.
“I’m sorry, Tanvi, what was that?”
“I said…on a scale of one to Tatum. How hot is she?”
Addy’s grin spans from one ear to the next, and she answers proudly.
“Smoking!”
“Good answer. Listen, I need to let you go. Tatum is on the other line.”
“Okay, thanks for your help.”
“Of course, A-double Dee…have fun for both of us tonight.”
***
The office is quiet now.
The clock on the wall of the lobby read 6:45pm.
Sophie left twenty minutes ago—jacket on, bag over her shoulder, a soft “Goodnight” aimed at both of them but directed mostly at Leela.
Barry is still at his desk, his sage linen jacket draped over the back of his chair.
He always had a hard time walking away before taking time off, and a full two weeks was virtually unheard of.
A firm hand knocks at the doorframe.
He looks up.
Leela leans against it, her dark blazer slung over one arm, purse in hand.
“Can’t seem to unplug, huh?” she says.
He looks at her like he’s in pain.
“I get it, I’m the same exact way.”
He smiles and looks at his phone, filled with notifications of messages containing ETA requests.
“If we could only get Heidi to understand that, then we’d really be cooking with peanut oil.”
Leela tilts her head, an inquisitive expression on her face.
“Oh, never mind– must be an Iowa thing.”
He waves it off.
“You headed out?”
She nods slowly.
“Thanks for today. I’m not sure what it was… but it felt really good having you around.”
“It did, didn’t it?” she agrees.
“We don’t usually laugh this much. So, before you go nominating us for the workplace of the year award. You should know…that was all you.”
She lights up like a schoolgirl at the compliment, looking down coyly, as she fingers the diamond dangling from her earring.
“I love that. That’s a really good compliment.”
Then bows her head gracefully.
“Thank you.”
Their eyes lock, and Barry instantly looks away, images from their encounter on the beach flooding his thoughts.
Leela notices and thinks it’s cute.
“You have a great operation here, Barry. You should be proud.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
“Sophie said that you were a great boss. It was a joy to see you in action.”
Barry deflects with a practiced humility.
“Oh geez, I would be a mess without her…”
Leela studies him for a moment.
“Speaking of Sophie, can I sit for a minute? Quick debrief?”
Barry hesitates, glancing at his screen filled with email, before turning back to Leela.
“Uh, sure. Of course.”
Leela steps inside, playfully draping her own blazer over her chair to match his, and sits—leaning back, legs crossed.
Barry looks at her hands–her classic French tip manicured finger nails tapping lightly on the armrests.
Heart racing.
He tries his best to look relaxed, but he’s failing miserably.
“So,” Leela begins, “I noticed something this morning, and it’s kind of been eating away at me.”
Leela tracks every reaction like a cat dancing with a snake.
She clocks the sudden rush of his response to hearing her say the word ‘eating,’ and shakes her head.
“You really are one of the good ones, aren’t you?”
Her delivery is so light and filled with genuine delight that it’s impossible to interpret it as patronizing.
He doesn’t know how to respond, so he arches his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders.
“Obviously, I spent a lot of time with both you and Sophie today, and I couldn’t help but notice the…chemistry.”
Leela raises her own eyebrow.
Barry sits there, expressionless, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Her hand casually moves to the button of her vest.
“There’s something about the way she watches you…”
Leela notices him stealing glances at her body and continues.
“...like someone who watches something they want but can’t have.”
Barry’s jaw tightens like a dormant part of his brain had suddenly snatched at the controls.
“Wait, have you been talking to Heidi?” he says suspiciously.
Leela raises a hand gently, cutting him off.
Her expression is calm.
Curious.
“Barry, it’s okay. I’m not here to judge you.”
He doesn’t respond.
She leans forward slightly.
Her finger naturally traces along the top seam of her vest, pulling it down just enough to provide the slightest glimpse of the black lace underneath.
“The way you two move around each other—it’s like a dance. The way she anticipates your needs before you even know what they are. The way you light up when she gets something right. It was kind of fun to be a part of.”
Barry shifts in his chair.
“She’s a good assistant.”
Leela suddenly sits back.
Hands returning to the arms of her seat.
“She’s more than that, Barry.”
Her voice filled with certainty and power.
Barry stands abruptly, turning toward the window.
“Why does it suddenly feel like I’m being interrogated and you’re trying to…”
“Get a confession out of you?”
Leela finishes for him playfully.
He turns to look at her suddenly, and something about the look on her face makes him smile.
“Yes!”
“Because I am…”
She gets up and walks towards him.
“...just not for the reasons you’re thinking.”
She moves into his space, her timing perfect.
She looks up at him, hands straightening his tie as she speaks.
“How could you not want her?”
The question stops him cold.
Or maybe it was her light brown eyes.
Leela’s tone is soft. Non-judgmental. Understanding even.
“She’s brilliant. She’s beautiful. She makes you feel competent in a way Heidi doesn’t anymore.”
She pauses, then says matter-of-factly,
“I wanted to fuck her.”
Barry’s breath catches.
Her confession sabotaged his defenses.
Swiftly, she grabs his neck and pulls his ear to her mouth,
“And if I’m really being honest, I can hardly keep my hands off you right now.”
She releases him and resets.
“Look, I know that you’re nervous, so how about I take the lead?”
He looks like a rock, but his knees are buckling.
“I’ll put myself out there and make a confession, and then it’s your turn. And don’t think it’s easy for me to do because I love and respect Sophie, and I’m fully aware that what I’m about to say is completely selfish—objectifying not just her, but you as well. But it’s also honest…and we promised to be honest.”
Barry was in over his head.
Whatever Leela was, nothing in life had prepared him for her.
“After watching you two today—the way she lights up when you notice her, the way you relax when she handles something—I kept thinking about what it would be like…”
She pauses and looks away briefly before dragging it out into the open.
“…to have both of you.”
She looks up at him as if searching for judgment.
Barry’s hands are shaking.
“I know that it’s selfish, but the thought of the two of you working together…on ME?”
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head like she was savoring the thought.
“…let’s just say it was a thought.”
She looks at him mischievously, her eyes filled with feigned innocence.
“Okay, now your turn. Barry Goldstein, have you thought about fucking your hot, young assistant?”
Silence.
Barry’s shoulders rise and fall.
“I shouldn’t.” He finally responds.
“Yes or no?”
Her hands slid down to the front of his pants. The ultimate truth detector.
The pressure makes him shudder.
“Yes,” he whispers, voice quivering.
“Barry,” she says softly, “look at me.”
He turns.
“You’re playing with fire.”
His face is a mess—guilt, desire, shame, all tangled together.
Leela reaches up and cups his face with both hands.
“But I’m here to make sure that you don’t get burned.”
He gives her his full attention.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting,” she murmurs.
His eyes search hers.
“I need you to take me somewhere,” she continues. “And it’s going to require us both to be more open and vulnerable than we’ve ever been.”
Barry swallows hard.
“But we’re going to do it together, okay?”
He nods.
“I was like Sophie once—in love with a man that I wanted but couldn’t fully have.”
She unzipped his pants, wrapping her hand around him.
“The way he fucked me was…” her voice trailed off. “...reckless.”
“Like I was worth setting fire to his entire world.”
She brings his face close enough that their lips touch while she forms the words.
“I want you to pretend I’m her…”
“I want you to show me what you’d do with her. If there were no rules. No consequences. No shame.”
Barry’s breathing quickens.
“I want you to take everything you’ve been feeling and give it to me. I want to taste how desperate you are. I want to hear the breathless way you’d say her name.”
His eyes widened.
Leela leans in, her mouth hovering just beside his ear.
“I want to feel you fuck her, Barry.”
The fuse, which had been advancing since she walked in, ignites in a flash.
Barry’s hands are on her body before he realizes he’s moved—gripping her waist, pulling her into him, his mouth crashing into hers with a hunger that surprises them both.
Leela responds immediately—meeting his urgency, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan.
He walks her backward until her thighs hit the edge of the desk.
She hops up, legs spreading to make room for him, and he steps between them, hands working at the buttons of her charcoal vest.
His fingers fumble.
Leela covers his hands with hers, steadying them.
“It’s okay,” she whispers. “Take your time, if you can. No need to rush.”
He looks at her—really looks—and something inside him cracks.
Her vest rips open. Buttons scattering into forgotten places.
Black lace bra, sheer enough to see the outline of her nipples beneath.
Barry’s hands tremble as he cups her breasts, pressing up and in like he can’t get enough.
Leela arches into his touch, her breath hitching softly.
“God,” he murmurs. “You’re—”
“Use her name,” Leela whispers. “Call me Sophie.”
He swallows hard.
“Sophie—you’re…”
He tries to use his words, but he can’t help himself.
Papers scatter.
Barry’s hands slide down to her waistband.
Unbuttoning her pants, as Leela lifts her hips—helping him pull them down, then off completely.
Black lace underwear to match the bra.
She leans back on her hands, legs open, recording his every move at a level of definition he’d be helpless to comprehend.
His hands grip her thighs, pressing red marks into her skin.
Leela’s breath catches as he pushes into her.
Hunger isn’t the right word.
He’s famished.
Starving.
Frantic.
Lost.
“Fuck,” she gasps. “I’ve missed this feeling.”
Her eyes squeeze shut, savoring the danger of being objectified by obsession.
Silent tears slip down both sides of her face.
Her body keeps moving with his, pulling him deeper, legs wrapping around him desperately — holding him in place, hedging any second guess, or compulsion of guilt.
The pleasure and pain twist together into something she isn’t ready to surrender yet.
Barry notices her tears.
But he has no idea of the trauma behind them.
He doesn’t understand.
And he doesn’t stop.
The End
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Leela follows a brilliant high-end escort in Miami who treats intimacy like art, therapy, and a little bit of trouble. It’s erotic, funny, emotional, dangerous, and not the story you think it is.
Leela,
Baby, I love you. Please answer this message. You were so beautiful and vulnerable in Ep 2. Call me, girl, DM me! Show up at my house! You know the address. ❤️
PS This episode is incredible! I did not think I could love Leela more after episode 1, but I was wrong.
You are a Great writer Elara. Y tus historias son súper interesantes, muy bien hechas, cuidando cada detalle.