Sway (Landry Family #1)

by Adriana Locke

  My tongue slides from the top of her leg to her pussy, wet and waiting for me. I don't hesitate, don't stutter, as my tongue sinks deep inside her.

  She cries out, her arms reaching for the table on either side of her head. The fruit tray topples over. Grapes, berries, and oranges roll past me and onto the floor.

  I suck her clit into my mouth, biting lightly on the swollen bud. She arches her hips, and I slide my tongue back down to her opening and bury my face between her legs.

  Her body riots, releasing all over me, and I lap it up. She trembles beneath my hands, her pussy gripping my tongue.

  A bundle of grapes sits by my hand near her waist and I grab them. I pull back for a split second, remove a few of the fruits from the stem, then roll one of the grapes around her clit. She shudders, trying to pull away. I place a hand on her navel, warning her not to move. She lifts her head and looks at me over the round tops of her breasts. She tries to smile, but before she can, I slide a grape inside her.

  "Ah!" Her head collapses to the table again. I push another, then a third, grape inside of her. She's so wet, so ready that they go inside easily. "Barrett!"

  Nudging her legs open further, I slide one finger inside. The grapes are cool against the warmth of her skin. I move them with my finger, feeling them jostle inside.

  "My God!"

  Working her clit with another finger, I slide it down until it dips inside her too. She moans loudly, arching her back again. My cock struggles against my jeans, ready to fucking explode.

  I watch as my fingers work inside her, sliding them in and out, feeling one grape burst. The juice rolls out of her and down my wrist.

  I press harder this time, working the second grape to the side until it, too, pops. Alison is mumbling, thrashing, trying to grab at my hands with hers. Knowing that it's me doing this to her, it's me that's got her worked into such a frenzy, it's me that has her begging for my cock in that seductive voice is nearly unbearable.

  Popping the final grape, I remove my fingers to a loud gasp from her. I lower my head to her pussy and lick her with the flat of my tongue. The contact has her moaning, gasping, pressing my face into her with her hands. I suck the juice that trickles from her opening before allowing her to pull my face up to meet hers.

  She half sits as she holds my gaze for a second before kissing me for all she's worth. Her tongue dips into my mouth, taking me by surprise. When she pulls back, she's barely breathing.

  "I want you.” Her voice is ragged, dripping with desire. "I want your cock now, Barrett."

  Her hands are digging at my zipper as I'm undoing the button and simultaneously grabbing a condom from my pocket. Once my pants are on the floor around my feet, she spreads her legs and works her ass to the edge of the table. I step forward, rolling the condom down my length. Her hands slide around my waist, her fingernails digging into my ass.

  "Now," she whispers and I slide easily inside her.

  "Fuck!" I cry, the slippery wetness allowing me all the way inside. She clenches around me, her body fitting snugly around my length.

  My eyes are closed, enjoying the feeling as I slide gently out and back in, feeling every inch of her warmth as I move. She kisses me again, tenderly this time, her full lips parting my own. Before pulling back, she bites my bottom lip, bringing me out of the fog.

  Quickening my pace, I push my hands beneath her. I squeeze her cheeks and find a rhythm. The slapping of our skin, the wetness coating my cock and groin, her breasts bouncing against me are more than I even dreamed. Still, I need more, to put my stamp on every part of her body.

  I hook her legs around my arms and lift her up so I can bury myself deeper in her pussy. Her body spasms around mine, her orgasm building again. She’ll get off again before I find mine.

  My cock slides up and across her clit. That's all it takes. She constricts around me again and I let myself go.

  Pushing as far into her as I can, I watch her face as my body explodes in every way imaginable. My legs shake. My hands tremble as I hold on to her hips. My head feels like it's going to blow off my body as the culmination of the entire night, the entire last few nights, comes to a point.

  I rest her back on the table and look into her eyes.

  "You okay?" I ask.

  "Yes," she exhales. She untangles her body from mine and sweeps her hair off to one side. She gives me a soft smile that only makes me want to sweep her lips up again with mine. So I do.

  "I think I need to clean up,” she whispers as she pulls away.

  "There's a restroom behind the fireplace." I help her off the table, fighting the urge to pull her into me instead.

  She glances up at me through her thick lashes, her cheeks still blazing from the thorough fucking moments earlier.

  I can only watch her go. I'm not sure what the hell just happened. I am sure I'm probably fucked in a lot more ways than one.

  Alison

  "TELL ME THE GRAPES CAME out!" Lola giggles through the phone.

  “Of course they did,” I laugh, “but I’m not telling you how or where.”

  "This is the best story I've ever heard. I just have chills. I have legit chills, Ali."

  "Me too. You don’t even understand.”

  "I'm going to need to call Isaac now and try to replay this, although it’ll never measure up. Oh. My. Lord."

  I laugh, falling back on my bed. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of being happy. Of feeling sexy. Of feeling like my body just got rocked.

  "I just . . . You've rendered me speechless! Here I thought I was the dirty bird!"

  "He's everything." I remember the look in his eyes, the lust nearly palpable, as he kissed up my leg. I shiver, drawing my legs together. I can still feel his touch, the way his fingertips drew lightly up my skin. The way his tongue dipped inside me. The way his cock felt as it plunged deeply into me.

  "Ali? Earth to Ali," Lola says, luring me out of my memory. "Am I talking to myself?"

  "I'm here."

  She snorts. "I think you're still in the quasi-winery. I know I would be. Hell, I kind of am and I haven't even been properly graped."

  "I don't know how I'll ever forget that, Lola. It was just erotic. Completely mind-blowing."

  "And you got to experience that."

  I prop up on my elbows. "Thank God for small favors. Or not small. There's nothing small about him."

  "Shut. Up," she sighs. "So when are you seeing him again?"

  I pause, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. Apparently it’s too long of a silence because Lola picks right up on it.

  “Why do I get a feeling you’re not telling me something huge?”

  “I already told you he was huge,” I deflect to the best of my ability.

  “You know what I mean. Not talking cock size for once.”

  “We agreed to take things slowly,” I state as simply as possible.

  “Whoa!” Something crashes in the background, the sound of bottles being knocked against tile. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  Sighing, I brace myself. “If you think that means I’m dating, for a lack of a better word, the mayor, then yes. It does.”

  “What happened to you over the last twelve hours? You call me on the way to work, all sobbing about Huxley going fishing. Then you call me and just got a grape sucked out of your hoohah and are dating the most eligible bachelor in the country?”

  “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” I laugh, unable to believe it myself. Every time I think about it, I automatically try to panic. Yet the worry doesn’t come. It just feels like I’m where I should be.

  “What happened to separation of hearts and vaginas? Not that I’m against this by any means. Hell, you’ve taken my retirement plan to a whole new level . . .”

  “That’s not what this is,” I warn.

  “No, I know it’s not. You’re not like that, like me,” she points out. “And that’s a good thing, I think. But what changed your mind?”

  The moon shines t
hrough the window, illuminating my cherry-colored bedspread. She asked the million dollar question and I fight for a million dollar answer.

  “Him.”

  “And that means?”

  How do I explain that, besides the fame and the fortune and the political connection, he’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of?

  “I mean, he’s amazing. And I realize I’m just scared by all the outer trappings, and only because of what I’ve gone through before. I just think it’s worth it to see if it works. And if it doesn’t . . . I guess I’ll figure out a way to survive. I did before.”

  “That’s my girl! I knew you had it in you. Maybe you had to literally have it in you to have it in you.”

  I laugh, her antics impossible. “Just remind me of this when I’m crying on your shoulder.”

  “What about the media? What about Hux?”

  “Everything should be fine if we just play it cool. Stay hidden. And if he wins the election, I guess we’ll see what happens,” I say, chewing on my bottom lip. My stomach twists at the idea, but I force it away. I’m focusing on the good. “And if he doesn’t, it’ll be easier to navigate.”

  My phone buzzes with an incoming call. “Hey, my mom is calling. I need to grab it in case something’s wrong with Huxley.”

  “Go. Just know I’m proud of you, Ali!”

  “Thanks, Lo. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Barrett

  The lights are off in the cabana, but the solar lights are still burning along the path leading to it. The grounds are quiet and everyone is gone but me.

  My briefcase is open on the desk. Swiping a file, the edges worn from looking at it so many times over the last month, I plop back on the bed I use when I stay here and look at it again.

  I try to zero in on the words, but my mind keeps going to Alison. I’m not sure what in the hell I’ve gotten myself into, only that this is the first time in a very long time I’ve felt like I just made the right decision. My decision. A decision unmarred by suggestions and requests from everyone around me.

  Even though we’re keeping it quiet, I know shit will hit the fan if it becomes public knowledge. Nolan will be furious. My father disappointed. Graham, the most trusted voice out of them all, will think it’s wrong.

  I don’t care.

  If I think about it long enough, I realize that my lack of concern does, in fact, concern me. Their points are right. This could be a big fuck-up for my campaign. There are a million ways this could go wrong. So why am I not more anxious about this new relationship?

  I have no fucking idea.

  All I know is that there’s a little peace in my stomach, a little levity in my step that I don’t want to let go.

  In a world of stress and assholes, a life of planned moves and compromises, she’s the purest deal. The only person that just wants me. She looks at me and sees straight through to who I am on the inside, without the name, the looks, the smile, or influence I can flash and get my way.

  I can’t let that go. Regardless of what they say.

  My phone rings and I grab it. I see my mother’s name on the screen. Immediately, I smile and answer. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, Barrett. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “Nope,” I say, shutting the file and tossing it on the edge of the bed. “And even if you were, I’d stop to talk to you.”

  “Ah, you’re a charmer,” she laughs. “How is my oldest child? Are you hanging in there? I know how the last weeks of a campaign can be.”

  “Yeah, I’m all right.”

  “Why do I know you’re fibbing?”

  Chuckling, I imagine her face. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pressed together.

  “Because you’re my mom, I guess.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice soft.

  “Just . . . shit.” I contemplate telling her about Alison first. I want to discuss it with someone that won’t judge me right off the bat.

  “Is it that Land Bill? Your father was talking about it tonight. I know we own some of the land in play and he wants you to go against it.”

  Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. That’s the main thing right now. I’m being pushed by everyone to brush it off, but I just . . .”

  “Barrett, listen to me. This is your career. Whatever you choose to do is your legacy. You have to do what you feel is right, what you can be proud of having your name attached to.”

  “You know Dad will disown me if I don’t go against it, right? You realize you’ll personally lose a few million dollars?”

  “You do know I have enough money so your future children never have to work. And you also know I will die after your father and it’ll be me that decides who’s in the will.”

  I can’t help but laugh. I know she’s joking, in part, but she’s kind of telling the truth too.

  “On a serious note,” she says, “I understand and respect the fact that you care about what your father says. You’re a good man, a good mayor, a good son. But your father has had his life to make his mark on the world, and when I look at you children, I have to say he’s made six beautiful, smart impressions. But this is your life, not his. He tries to push you and guide you, but you can make your own decisions.”

  I think to the one decision I’ve already made that I also know he’ll be against.

  “What if this is the wrong decision too?” I ask.

  “Too?”

  “Forget it,” I say, realizing my slip of the tongue. “I misspoke.”

  She pauses like she does before she imparts her infinite wisdom. I hated these long stretches of silent time growing up. I always knew she was going to wallop me with something I couldn’t argue, something that would root in my brain and make me feel a certain way. I wait on it with the same trepidation now.

  “You don’t remember this and I don’t want you to ever speak of it. But when I was pregnant with Ford, I had very high blood pressure. The doctors wanted me to abort the pregnancy; they said if I carried him, I might die. Your father wanted me to terminate it. He said it wasn’t worth the risk to my life and that I had to think about the rest of you kids.”

  “I had no idea,” I say in astonishment.

  “I was frozen, Barrett. How could I choose what I wanted, which was to keep the baby, and risk so much that affected so many others? It was a terrible position to be in.”

  I nod, understanding her position way better than she even imagines.

  “But at the end of the day, I was the one that had to live with it. And I couldn’t live thinking that maybe, somehow, it would work out. And I valued that little baby’s life as much as I valued yours, or Graham’s. So I chose to go through with the pregnancy.

  “Your father wasn’t pleased. He thought I was being cavalier about it, risking my health for something that may or may not even be feasible. But I made my choice because it was mine to make. And, as we all know, it worked out.”

  “But what if it hadn’t?” I say, my brain spinning. “What if you had died or Ford hadn’t made it?”

  “It was possible. Nothing is guaranteed. But living and not knowing would’ve been worse than playing it safe. Sometimes, Barrett, you have to take some risks.”

  A grin slides across my face, her words as poignant as ever.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You are very welcome. I want to have lunch with you soon if you can swing it. I miss seeing your handsome face.”

  “I’ll figure something out this week. I have to meet Monroe in the morning . . .”

  She takes in a quick breath. “One more thing—Paulina said she was happy to arrange a dinner for you with some of her friends. I know one’s a prosecutor and one is a tremendous benefactor at the hospital in Mason. Maybe that would help?”

  I know Paulina’s dinners all too well, and they always end up with her and me getting it on. I’m normally game for that, but things have changed. Majorly.

  “I really don’t have any openings in my calendar for something like that,” I say, trying to di
ssuade her from pushing the issue.

  “She said it’d be something small, something intimate.”

  I bet.

  I try to hide my chuckle. “It’s probably not a good idea, but please thank her for me.”

  “Will do. Get some sleep. We’ll talk soon.”

  “Love you,” I say, kicking off my shoes.

  “Barrett?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Trust your instincts. They’ll never let you down.”

  Barrett

  STEAM ROLLS OUT OF THE bathroom as I push the door open. It follows me into the bedroom. I pull the towel tighter around my waist, feeling better after the near-scalding water beat down on me for awhile.

  My phone buzzes on my nightstand and I scurry across the room to get it. I haven’t seen Alison in a few days, not since the night she agreed to try things with me, and her calls and texts are the only bright spot in a never-ending life of exasperation.

  The thought of her displayed just for me, her shy smile, her sweet voice makes my dick hard. I need to see her.

  Picking up the phone and swiping it without looking at the screen, a wide grin is planted on my face when I answer. “Landry.”

  “Hey, Barrett,” Daphne croons. “How are you, sugar?”

  My eyes roll back in my head, my hand finding my hair. Stifling a groan that begs to erupt, I sit on the edge of my bed.

  “Not much.”

  An awkward pause settles over the line. Finally, she huffs, taking my lack of interest in her pussy personally. “Barrett? What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. I haven’t heard from you, haven’t seen you around at all. What’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing has gotten into me,” I mutter. “Look, Daph, I’m just busy these days.”

  “Let me relieve some stress, sugar.”

  I suck in a deep breath and wish I hadn’t answered this call. “That’s okay.”

  “You never turned down pussy, especially when it’s mine, and I promise to wear that black lacy thong you love so much.”

  Sighing, I try to keep composed. “I’m tired.”

  “Too tired to fuck me, huh?” she tempts. “Remember how much you like it when I ride your cock? How you tell me how tight I am, how you love to watch my ass bounce on you when I ride you reverse cowgirl?”