by Lyla Grace
A few more moments, and he finally breaks the kiss. “We need to get back before Chase starts wondering where we are.”
Once we are back inside the club, Landon makes a beeline for the bar, and I head off to the bathroom to make sure I don’t look like I just had the most amazing sex of my life. That is exactly what the reflection in the mirror shows me. I fix my hair, all the while a stupid drunk smile on my face. Except it’s not the alcohol I am drunk on. It’s Landon. Despite my inability to keep my hands off of him, I sure as hell never expected him to be that damn good, that damn skilled. My eyes are bright and full of life, my face flushed. I feel euphoric. I don’t remember the last time I felt this good. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, fix my dress, and head back out into the bar.
What little I know of Landon lends me to believe that he is currently in utter turmoil over what just happened between us. Quite frankly, I’m not sure what to say to him or how to approach him. I hate to think of guilt eating at him when I know Chase couldn’t care less. We both learned long ago to stay out of each other’s love lives. But somehow I don’t think that is going to make him feel any better.
The bar is full. Chase has his arm slung around Landon, and luckily for me the blonde seems to have disappeared. I come up behind them and I can hear Chase rambling and professing his love and friendship to Landon.
“You’re drunk,” Landon says.
“No shit, asshole. Doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Seriously, man, you’re a great friend,” Chase says, and even without being able to see his face, I know the words sting Landon. I try to sneak away before I make things worse but Chase turns suddenly and sees me. “Ollie!” he calls out to me, using the nickname he gave me as kids. Shit! “Ollie, you need do shots with us.” I take a deep breath and head back. “Hurry up! I want to do some shots with my two favorite people!” he shouts.
When I make my way to them, I stand next to Landon, perhaps a little closer than I should. Watching him shift his body weight next to me, I know that our closeness both turns him on and makes him slightly uncomfortable at the same time. I would be lying if I said I didn’t know how he felt. That is exactly how our intense sex session made me feel.
Chase holds his shot up in a toast. “To you guys!” I can hear Landon choke on his shot. Me, on the other hand, I can’t control my laughter. The toast is perfect, as though he is toasting us when he has no idea what just transpired. Though I must say, he should, because what we did definitely deserves a toast. With his head hung, Landon grabs another shot off the bar and slams it.
Before he can grab another, I place my hand over his. “Landon, relax. Chase is oblivious,” I assure him. I nod my head in Chase’s direction. Clearly he is three sheets to the wind as he dances by himself at the bar.
My observation does little to diminish his inner turmoil. He quickly pulls his hand away from my hold. And as if things weren’t uncomfortable enough, the blonde from earlier re-emerges at the bar. Based on the look on Landon’s face, he has clearly forgotten about her. Good. That was my intention. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like she forgot him in the slightest.
“Where did you run off to?” she asks Landon.
“Um…” he says. His eyes glance in my direction, pleading with me to help him.
“Sorry, sweetie. I’m not feeling well and I just want to gather the boys so we can head out,” I tell the woman. “Have a nice night.” I grab Chase’s hand and tug on it. “Come on, Chase, let’s go.”
“No way--Lando could use a good lay. She looks like she would be good. Trust me,” Chase says.
Landon and I both whip our heads in Chase’s direction. I know he has sunk kind of low into the rabbit hole, but I can’t believe he would say something like that.
“Chase,” I scold.
Don’t get me wrong; I completely and irrationally hate this woman. I mean, she did have her hands on Landon. But what Chase just said? Makes me actually feel kind of bad for her.
“I’m good, man, thanks,” Landon says as he tries to corral Chase. Landon then trains his eyes on the poor woman, who looks like a deer in headlights. “I’m sorry, my friend--”
“Is a complete jackass,” I finish as I shove Chase to get him out of the club. I have half a mind to leave him behind and let this woman kick his sorry ass. The damn jerk deserves it and so much more.
When we finally return to the hotel, Landon and I struggle to get Chase to his room. We are just about to dump him on his bed when he sinks to the floor.
“Should we move him?” he asks.
“Believe me, this is the least of what he deserves,” I reply as I head for the door.
I take one last look at Chase before following Landon out the door and onto the elevator. Neither of us says a word the entire ride to what I can only assume is his floor. When he exits, he gives me one last glance before continuing down the hall. There is something in his eyes, almost as though he is asking me to follow him. So, I do.
As he pulls his key card from his wallet, I block the door with my body. While he’s not asking me to stay, he’s definitely not pushing me away, either.
“May I have the key?” I ask him, breaking the silence.
“This key?” he asks, dangling the access card over my head, just out of my reach.
I press my body against his. “The sooner you give me that key, the sooner I will be begging you to not let this be a one-time deal. And chances are that begging will consist of me, on my knees.”
In one swift move, he has my back pressed against the door, my arms pinned above my head, and his erection hard against my stomach. As much as the feel of him is turning me on, it’s the look in his eyes that has me intrigued. They are filled with amusement and mischief, something I had been so sure this choir boy wasn’t capable of. Seems there is another side of Landon I hadn’t yet seen. “The damage is already done sweetheart. If you thought I was going to let you walk away that easily, you have another thing coming.” A smirk crosses his handsome face. “Literally.”
There is something in the way he says it, as though it’s a promise that he intends on keeping. Whatever switch flipped in him, I sure as hell hope it doesn’t go back. I like this side of Landon, playful and forceful all at once.
The moment his lips meet mine, they claim me and make me his despite the protests in my head. His tongue dances with mine, waging a war on my senses. The man definitely has a way with his tongue. The thought instantly piques my curiosity as to where else he may be able to put that skill to use. Once we are finally inside his room, he puts me over his shoulder and tosses me onto the bed. “My turn,” he proclaims as he stands over me. His eyes look me up and down as though he is memorizing every inch of me. “God damn, you are gorgeous,” he says. His words cause an ache between my thighs that only he is capable of easing.
“Landon, please,” I beg.
He lets out a low laugh. “You weren’t kidding about the begging, huh? Trust me, sweetheart. I know what I am doing.”
And that right there is part of the problem--I do trust him. Trust has always been an issue for me. But right now, I can’t think about that or all these emotions he is stirring up inside me. Because, quite frankly, they just make me want him all that much more, and I am already having a hard enough time holding out for whatever he has planned for me.
He licks his lips like I am a dish he is about to devour. And apparently that’s exactly what he plans on doing. His fingers trail the underside of my calf, sending a chill through my body. I writhe under his touch as he slowly trails kisses up my calf, past my knee, and along my inner thigh. My body strains against the tight fabric of my dress. My skin is on fire, and only he can douse these flames. He continues up my thigh until he reaches my sex, his tongue softly grazing me in a sweet sensual torture. He pulls back and my head flies up from the mattress to glare at him. You can’t do that to a girl and just stop. But he does, and he begins the same assault up my other leg, landing in the same spot, this time his tongue slightly l
ess gentle in its technique.
I prop myself up on my elbows because the only thing better than feeling his mouth on me is watching him taste me. His fingers glide over my opening, taunting me with the promise of him filling me. And when he does? Holy hell, the combination of his mouth and his fingers causes me to collapse back onto the bed. His fingers glide into me deeper with each movement, gradually quickening the pace to match the pants and moans I can’t help but let escape me. I rock my hips, pressing myself harder onto him, craving more. My pulse quickens, my breath hitches as he sends me over the brink into ecstasy.
That, right there, was one of those orgasms a woman dreams about. Mind clear, soul open, nothing but the way he made me feel. And man, did he ever make me feel. My body is weak, my breath still coming in pants. As for Landon? Well, when I look down at the man who left me in the haze, he has a wicked smile on his face, showing just how proud he is of his accomplishment. And damn if he doesn’t deserve to be.
“Take your dress off,” he commands as he stands, unbuttoning his pants. I want to obey but I am mesmerized by the sight in front of me: his tall, muscular body, those pants sliding down his toned thighs revealing the most amazing cock I have ever seen or felt. “Like what you see?” he asks. My mouth has gone dry and words seem to have escaped me--I can’t respond, only stare.
With his hands in mine, he pulls me to my feet. “I need to see you, to touch you. You’re driving me crazy, Livie,” he says. He unzips my dress and lets it fall to the floor. Landon steps back and lets out a soft breath as pure desire seems to be etched on his face. If I wasn’t already wet and waiting, I would have been just from that look. No one has ever made me feel more beautiful, more desired, more appreciated than I do in this moment. And fuck if that doesn’t unravel me.
His lips make their way to mine, the slow, deliberate kisses we shared earlier gone replaced by hard, hungry kisses. Each kiss demands something from me that I am only all too willing to give. Suddenly, I am clawing at him, my mouth exploring his now naked body before dropping to my knees to explore him, touch the part of him that sent me into a spiral I don’t ever want to come out of. I take the length of him in my mouth, slowly, gently exploring. I look up at him, closed eyes, head back--as though he is trying to fight back exactly what I am trying to pry out of him. My eyes never leave his face and I continue to work him, deeper, harder. His breathing is getting more ragged, and much to my dismay, so is mine. Giving a guy a blow job has never done a thing for me, but right now, between his taste and that look on his face, I am nothing more than a hot horny mess yet again. Luckily for me, my mouth is not where he wants this to end. Just as I swear he is about to cum, his eyelids fly open.
He takes my hand and snatches me up from the floor. He tilts my chin so my eyes meet his and he shakes his head. Before I can ask he has me flat on my back, his long hard body covering mine. We are still focused on each other as he slides his cock into me in one swift motion. There is nothing slow about this; no savoring this go-around. We are both running on pure desire, frenzied hands and desperate kisses. The friction between my legs, and in my heart, that he is creating is all too much for me to handle. Unable to withstand the intensity of this moment much longer, I arch into him. And when I do? Holy hell. Wherever he is at, whatever he is hitting, it sends us both over the edge fast and hard.
We both collapse onto the bed. My body feels like Jell-O, my head is spinning, and the rhythm of his breathing has me entranced. I feel him shift in the bed and know he is watching me, though I have yet to open my eyes. “You okay?” he asks as he runs his fingers across my stomach. His tone is light, but I know he is serious. Unable to find words, I merely nod.
Why the hell am I still lying here? Now is the moment that I get up, get dressed, and get out. I tell myself to get out. But I can’t. My traitorous body refuses to listen. Obviously he must have put some sort of hex on me. That, or I have temporarily gone insane.
Another shift in the bed, and the weight of his body is gone. I open my eyes to see him walking stark naked through the room. “Want some water?” he offers.
I clear my throat and hopefully my head at the same time. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” I slowly sit up in the bed and wrap the sheets around me. “So it took me all day yesterday to get you to take your shirt off, and now you’re just going to walk around naked?”
“Got a problem with that?” he asks, his eyebrows rising in a challenge.
“It’s distracting.”
“Oh, really? Well, can’t be distracting you.” He lets out a laugh and grabs a pair of basketball shorts off the chair and slides them on. “Better?” I shake my head. “A shirt, too?” I nod, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a t-shirt from a drawer and tosses it to me before grabbing one for him and sliding it on. I hold on to the one he gave me, not moving to put it on. My hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed. “Unless, of course, you would prefer your dress? I was just going to order us some food.”
I should want my dress. I should want out of here, but I don’t. No matter how many times I keep telling myself to leave, I can’t seem to bring myself to do just that.
With my dress in his hands, he sits on the bed. He’s close, too close, and when he opens his mouth to speak, I silence him with a kiss. He tosses the dress to the floor, his arms wrapping around me. As we kiss, I rack my brain about what to say, how to leave without hurting him. And when I do, I break the kiss. “Cheese fries,” I say. Well, shit. That wasn’t it.
“What?” he asks, just as confused as I am.
Oh, hell. I pull the t-shirt he handed me over my head and get out of bed. “Order me cheese fries.” Before I close the bathroom door behind me I add, “And cake, chocolate cake.”
Once inside the bathroom I let my weak body slide down the bathroom door, the cold tile sending a jolt up me when it hits my naked butt. What in the hell am I doing? This was just supposed to be fun, a quick fuck to get him out of my system. So why is it that now that I’ve had him, I need more? I decide to take a shower, clear my head so I can think straight. Then I can just eat my cheese fries and leave.
When I finally make my way out of the bathroom Landon is kicked back on the bed with a remote in his hand, ESPN playing on the TV. “Food should be here in a minute.” I nod and walk over to his dresser and fiddle with the lamp. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks. “If I did anything to make you…”
“No.” I turn, bumping right into him. I hadn’t even realized he had moved.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit. Just tell me,” he says as he runs his thumb down my cheek.
“I don’t do this, Landon.”
“What? Sex? Because if that was your first time, then--” I slap his arm.
“No. I don’t stay. I don’t eat cheese fries and watch TV.” And now I just made it seem like this is something I do on a regular basis, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I let out a heavy sigh.
There is a knock at the door. “Room service.”
“You know, Livie, it’s spring break. You should quit being so uptight.” He raises his eyebrows at me and laughs as he answers the door.
Well, damn.
Chapter 3
Landon
I don’t want to move—hell, I don’t even want to breathe. The minute I do, if she wakes up, this is all over. I want to stay frozen in this moment for as long as I can, memorize her scent, how she breathes, everything and anything I can about her. Hell, I can still recall what she was wearing the first time I saw her….and the first time she showed up at one of our practices. Those short as hell shorts and tight tank top left every guy on the team staring at her.
I also vividly recall Chase’s warning. Livie is off limits. No looking, and definitely no touching. Yet here I am having done both of those, and quite frankly not regretting it. Anything I may have conjured up in my mind over the years paled in comparison to the reality that was Livie.
I watch as she sleeps peacefully ne
xt to me. As much as I tried to fight it, as guilty as I may feel. Watching her right now? Hell, Chase’s wrath is most certainly worth this one single moment. I quickly remind myself that one moment is all this was. It’s all it can be. All she will allow it to be. She says she doesn’t stay. But she did, last night. And I can’t help but wonder what she was thinking when she decided to break her rules and curled up into my arms and fell asleep. I try desperately to shake the thought out of my head, because thinking like that isn’t going to get me anywhere. Nowhere but maybe back at my condo with a broken jaw and a broken heart.
Slowly, I slide out of the bed, so as not to wake her. I need to run, clear my head, so I throw on some shorts and a t-shirt and head out the door, taking one last long look at the gorgeous woman curled up in my bed. That sight, her brown hair cascading over the pillow, the way she curls into the blanket that she has unknowingly wrapped herself in… that is what dreams are made of. At least, my dreams are. It’s been a long time since I have had dreams like this. Not since….
I shut the door quietly behind me. If that’s where my head is going back to, then I need this run more than I realized. Rather than wait for the elevator, I hit the stairs. Fifteen floors later, my legs are already burning, but not enough to push thoughts of Sarah out of my head. So I hit the pavement. Harder and harder with each step. But she’s still there. Her smile, her warm gentle eyes. I am already fooling myself by entertaining an idea of a relationship with Livie; I don’t need to dwell on the past, too. The number of issues that poses in itself is enough to give someone a headache. I don’t need to go dredging up old emotions that ten years later I am still not ready to deal with.
Sure, I have dated women, a few women, one that I even would go so far as to say I loved. But none of them, not a single one until Livie has made me feel anything remotely close to how I felt about Sarah. To me, she was the one. I had every intention of spending the rest of my life with her. Until she was taken from me, until a future with her was no longer an option. And while the probability is low, Livie is still an option. The more I think about them, the more their faces swirl around in my mind, the harder I run, the faster my feet take me, as though I am trying to run from my thoughts. I groan as my body finally gives in to the punishment I am putting it through. I am bent over, hands on my knees, sweat pouring off of me.