by Aubrey Irons
“I don’t do repeats. I’m not looking for anything, and I actually mean that.”
She snorts out a laugh, stepping away from me. “And you think I am? Landon I ended an engagement barely a year ago.” She drags her teeth over her lip, her arms crossing over her chest. “What are you so afraid of, anyways?”
I stiffen. “I’m not afraid, Serena, I just know where this goes. I know where us doing what happened in Houston again goes.”
She rolls her eyes. “Goodnight, Landon.”
“I’m just telling you how it is, I’m not trying to be an asshole here,” I say evenly before she can whirl away from me.
“Well, don’t worry, you’re succeeding anyways.” She shakes her head. “Besides, I don’t think I could handle sharing a bed with your ego anyways.”
“You seemed to handle it just fine before.”
Her eyes snap to mine, narrowing as her face goes pink. “That was different.”
“True, there wasn’t actually a bed that time.”
I’m pushing it. I’m seriously pushing it, but it’s hard not to with her.
She swallows, her lips slightly curling at the soft pink corners, like she’s hiding a smile. “You’re awfully flirty for a guy who’s so adamant about not trying to sleep with me.”
“You know we can’t do that again.”
“I know we could, because we’re adults. And I believe there’s documented historical proof that both of us can be adults about something with no strings like this. But you’re right,” she snaps. “We are not doing that again even if you begged me.”
She gasps as I suddenly move against her, one hand moving to her hip and skimming across it. My lips brush her ear, feeling the subtle feel of her body aching towards me.
“I think you’ve got it all turned around, actually,” I growl into her ear.
“Oh?” Her voice is shaky.
“Yeah, it won’t be me coming to beg you.”
My hand slides over her hip, and before I know what I’m doing, it’s moving down to cup her firmly by the ass. She gasps as I pull her against me, and I know she can feel how hard I am.
“You’ll be the one asking me nicely.”
She gasps again, the sound dripping into my ears like honey and sending a signal directly to my cock. She shifts against me, and I groan as I feel her fucking teeth graze my earlobe.
“Please,” she husks.
I groan.
“Please,” she whimpers a second time, her lips brushing my ear again and making my cock throb hard against her thigh.
And then suddenly, she pulls back, a devilish look on her face as her lips curl. “That’s the magic word, Landon.”
Serena steps away from me and pulls out her hotel room key. She shrugs, looking at me innocently. “That’s all you’d have to say,” she says sweetly, batting her eyes at me before she turns and slips inside the door to the lobby.
Then I’m alone, standing there on the sidewalk like a jackass with a look of shock on my face and my cock still pulsing rock-hard in my pants.
And if I was worried about things going too far before?
I think it’s safe to say we’re smashing past that benchmark now.
Chapter Fourteen
Serena
I’m shivering as I shut the hotel room door behind me.
Damn.
The feel of his hands on me and the sound of his voice in my ear lingers, making my pulse roar in my ears and making me weak in the knees. For all my bravado, and for all my sauntering away with the upper hand down there, he got to me.
Landon Reece with the arrogantly smug grin, the stupidly good looks and the huge ego, got to me.
Really, really got to me.
I squeeze my legs together as I sag against the door, feeling the heat pool between them. I can feel my skin buzzing and tingling, my nipples hard and pressing against the inside of my bra as my heart pounds in my chest. Thoughts of Landon making me beg, like he did before, slip through my mind, making me moan quietly.
Fingers move to the button of my pants, popping it and sliding the zipper down before I can even think. Hands slide across the soft skin of my belly and down under the lace edge of my panties. I gasp out loud as my fingers slip through the slickness there between my legs. I moan, my toes curling as the pad of my finger brushes over my aching clit.
I’m thinking of him. I’m thinking of that steely confident grin, that hardened jaw. The way his eyes devour me. I’m thinking of his mouth sliding up my thigh that night - the way his tongue played me like an instrument. The way he yanked me into his lap.
The way he felt filling me up like no one ever had before. The way I screamed, the way I clawed at his back like the way you read about in romance books but never actually happens in real life.
I’m shoving my pants down, stepping out of one leg and using my foot to kick it off the other as I move to the bed. I lay back into the thick comforter, my hands sliding down my belly again as I spread my legs and-
And my phone rings. Loudly.
I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning at the shattered moment as I reach over and yank the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” I say sharply.
“Hey.”
I swallow quickly, gulping in air and suddenly sitting up.
David.
“Hi,” I say icily, feeling my heart slamming against my chest.
“So how’d Denv-”
“What do you want, David.”
What did you ever want?
Someone else, that’s what. Someone and something else that I couldn’t give him - something he knew I couldn’t give him from the start.
All I remember about that day is the pain.
I was thirteen, in the seventh grade, and it’d been going on for a week. I’d assumed it was bad cramps, since I’d started getting my period the summer before. My dad thought the same thing, and while he’d always been amazing when it came to that stuff - buying me my first pads, calling the wife of a friend of his to talk me through tampons, never being weird about anything - there were just things he didn’t know about.
I’d been in the middle of my American History class when the pain had come roaring up like a hot knife in my abdomen. I remember screaming, and doubling over in my chair as the tears came burning down my cheeks. I remember the school nurse taking one look at me and calling the ambulance.
A ruptured appendix - not period cramps.
I remember crying, and feeling terrified, even with my dad standing over me in my hospital gurney and stroking my hair, telling me he was so sorry and that it was all going be okay.
And it was. Mostly.
I was fine, but it was the gynecological specialist later that sat me down and told me in a quiet voice about something I’d never heard of called endometriosis - scarring of the fallopian tubes. And at first, I remember being excited that it meant I wouldn’t have to have my period anymore. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
What I wouldn’t have, is children.
Ever.
That “something” David was looking for was a family, and he’s got one now.
Without me.
He sighs over the phone, pausing for a second before clearing his throat. “I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing, babe.”
“Don’t call me that.” My voice catches in my throat. “Actually don’t call me anything. Don’t call at all, okay?”
I start to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Serena, wait, please.”
I close my eyes tight, shaking my head and hating myself for bringing the phone back to my ear.
“What do you want,” I say quietly.
“I-” David sighs. “I miss you, honey.”
Something crumples inside of me as I bring my knees up to my chest, feeling deflated but knowing the hook’s already in. This is me swallowing the line, like I always did after every fight, and after every time he walked out.
The line I would have kept swallowing if he hadn’t fl
at out told me that night a year ago about Lisa. Lisa, his coworker. The Lisa who I’d met before. The Lisa who’d been to our house before.
The Lisa who he was leaving me for, and the Lisa he now has a kid with.
“No, you don’t,” I say through clenched teeth, still squeezing my eyes shut.
“I do, or I wouldn’t be calling like this.”
“Does she know you’re calling me?”
There’s a long pause.
“David-”
“No. No, she doesn’t.”
I can feel my stomach sinking as the familiar hook burrows deeper.
“Things aren’t what I thought they’d be, Serena,” he says evenly. “This whole thing… I think I got caught up in something I wasn’t ready for. This whole thing spiraled way out-”
“This whole thing was you leaving me for her, David!” I spit out.
A deal breaker. That’s what he’d called my infertility. A deal breaker.
“It’s not what I thought it’d be, babe,” he says quietly.
I bark out a bitter laugh.
“It should have been with you, Serena.”
I choke out another laugh, blinking away the hot tears and staring at the hotel room wall.
“Fuck you,” I whisper, shaking my head slowly. “Fuck you, David.”
“I deserve that.”
“Goddamn right you do.”
“We were really great, weren’t we?”
I’m spinning out as the hook slices deep, his poisonous words sinking in and taking hold of me like they always did - pulling me into his web of bullshit like it did for years.
“I’m thinking about leaving Lisa, Serena.” His voice is so heavy with emotion, it’s almost moving until I realize what he’s saying.
“What?”
“For you, baby. This isn’t what I thought it would be, and I want to come back. I want to make things right with you.”
He’s pulled too hard, too fast. The fishing line snaps and I slip free of the hook.
“What?!” I hiss.
“I said, I want to-”
“I heard what you said, you- you…ugh!” I stand abruptly, one hand balling into a fist and the other tightening enough to practically shatter the phone.
As much as I want to - and do - hate her, Lisa doesn’t deserve this. Whatever horrible mess of three people happened, the result was her having a child with him. However shitty it was for her to hook up with an engaged man in the first place, the situation is bigger than that now. He has a family with this woman, and very suddenly, I know I need to get off the phone or I’m going to put it and my fist through the window.
“You’re disgusting, David.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t ever call me again.”
“Serena-”
I drop the phone down onto the bed so I won’t destroy it. Instead, it’s the minibar wine glass on my bedside table that gets my wrath, hurling across the room to shatter against the far wall. Wine drips like blood down the ubiquitous beige wallpaper. I slowly drop to the edge of the bed.
Goddamnit.
Goddamn him.
I stand again, whirling and stalking back and forth across the room, my blood roaring in my ears. I want to destroy something more. I want to consume. I want to feel something other than this.
I freeze.
“You’ll be the one asking me nicely.”
And suddenly, I know exactly what I need.
I know exactly what I want.
We’re adults, and there’s no reason we can’t do adult things. He’s gorgeous, he’s unavailable, and he’s clearly interested. Why the hell not?
I let the thought mull over in my head as I stalk over to the minibar and grab another half bottle of wine. I fill up the second, un-smashed glass sitting on top of it and bring it to my lips.
I want to tell myself that this is a terrible idea, but it just won’t go away. In fact, the longer I let it simmer in my head, the more the idea of walking right up to Landon’s front door and fucking his brains out - or rather, letting him fuck my brains out - seems like the best damn idea I’ve had in a long time.
Live it up, as I always tell London.
And I plan on it.
The shower is hot and quick, and I let my fingers linger just enough over my skin to keep the fire going before I slip out and poke through my suitcases. I step into the sheer black panties and pull them up before reaching for the matching bra as well. I start to look for the perfect skirt and top combo to go with them when I stop.
A wicked grin spreads over my face.
No, screw it. Go big or go home, as they say. I toss the skirt away and dig deep in my suitcase for the black, thigh-high stockings, the black stilettos, and the black, mid-thigh length trench coat.
Lydia, Landon’s secretary, answers on the third ring.
“Serena?”
“Hi, Lydia, I’m so sorry to buzz you at home like this, but I’ve got some papers for him to look over before work tomorrow. Do you have his home address?”
Deep breath.
I pull the ties of the trench coat a little tighter as I pause outside the front door of Landon’s impressive house.
Apparently, early player retirement and working for Sam’s board of directors hasn’t exactly put him in the poor-house.
I’m lingering.
Just do it.
We’re adults after all, and we’re not doing bad here. It’s not like there’s any sort of clause in our contracts against this, and I sincerely doubt Sam Horn has anything in his will about us not hooking up. Risky? Possibly jeopardizing to our workplace relationship? Possibly. But I’m also fairly sure we’re both mature enough to get what this is, and what me showing up here tonight means.
This is just sex.
Very meaningless, very no-strings-attached, very necessary sex.
The fact that it happens to be with someone I’ve slept with before just means I know what I’m getting into.
I swallow, the shiver tingling up my back as the heat blooms deep inside of me.
Yeah, I know exactly what I’m getting into, and it’s that very thought that’s had me on edge and wanting this the whole cab ride over. And he wants this as much as I do, there’s no denying that.
I bring my hand up and rap loudly on the door.
I can hear music playing faintly inside - something that might be Ella Fitzgerald. Over the sound of the music, I can hear a man laughing loudly at something.
Landon.
Maybe he’s watching a movie or something?
I knock again, louder this time, and the music suddenly drops dramatically in volume. I hear footsteps coming closer, until suddenly, the door swings open.
Landon’s eyes go wide.
“Serena-”
“Okay, okay,” I bite my lip as I grin at him. “You win, okay? Here I am.”
He clears his throat, his hand gripping the door tightly as his eyes glance over me.
“How did you get my address?”
“Lydia. Can I come in?”
His mouth tightens. “Now…” he sighs, “now isn’t a good time, actually.”
I hear the sound of chair being pushed back from a table from behind him, and suddenly, my heart drops.
He’s not alone.
My stomach drops through the floor along with my pride.
“Oh, wow, I-” I shake my head as I start to turn away from the door, feeling like the single biggest idiot in the world. “I think I totally misjudged-”
“Serena, it’s not what you think.”
I choke out a brittle, cringing laugh. “It is, Landon, and that’s fine. I’m an asshole for coming over like this, and I’m-”
“Serena-”
“Daddy, who’s there?”
I freeze, my head suddenly jerking around to stare at him with wide eyes.
Daddy?
Landon’s jaw clenches as his brow furrows. “Why don’t you just come in.”
Chapter Fifteen
Landon
Well, shit.
This is not how I wanted this to end up, and this is not how I wanted this to go.
The teasing was one thing, but fuck, she’s actually here now. She’s actually standing in my front door dressed like that. And here I am in jeans and a ripped t-shirt covered in cookie dough baking powder, and one fingernail painted pink with sparkles.
“You have a kid?” she hisses, her eyes wide and staring daggers at me.
I frown. “Yes, I do,” I whisper harshly. “Was I supposed to fucking divulge that?”
“No, it’s just…” Her eyes go wide before they narrow again. “You weren’t wearing a wedding ring!”
“I’m not married,” I growl.
“Dad, who’s at the door?”
I hold Serena’s glare as I call back over my shoulder. “It’s a work friend, honey.” There’s the sound of Emily’s pattering feet coming down the hallway behind me and I sigh.
“Look, just come in.”
“What?” Serena says quickly, shaking her head. “No, I-”
The door gets pulled open the rest of the way as Emily inserts herself at my hip.
“Oh, hello.”
Serena stops abruptly and smiles as she looks down and meets my daughter’s gaze. “Well hello there!”
“I’m Emily.”
“Hi, Emily, I’m Serena.”
Emily’s eyes move slowly from the heels, to the elegant trench coat, to the long sable hair framing Serena’s face.
“You’re very pretty,” she finally says, matter-of-factly.
Serena smiles. “Thank you, so are you.”
Emily beams. “Did you see my dad’s fingernail?”
I make a face only Serena can see as my daughter giggles. “I’m giving him a makeover so he can be pretty too.”
I shrug as I raise my hand and wiggle the painted finger.
Serena grins.
“Do you want a cookie?” Emily says eagerly. “They’re chocolate chip and M&M. We’re making them from scratch.”
“Oh,” Serena’s face scrunches up as she shakes her head. “No, I-”
“Have a cookie.”
Fuck it. She’s here, and this might not exactly be how I envisioned having Serena “come to me”, but here we are.