by Cecy Robson
“The beginning of us?”
His hands trail lower to rest just above my backside. “The beginning of the best thing I’ve ever had,” I confess.
A tightness builds in my chest, triggering pain I don’t want to feel. Landon is the best part of my life. But there are parts of my life that cause me more sadness than I can bear.
He lifts my chin, his tone dropping. “If that’s true, why do you look so sad?”
I blink back tears that don’t belong with Landon so close. Regardless of how kind he is and all the smiles he brings, I remain that same woman who can fix everything at the office, but can’t fix the one person she needs to. “I just really like you,” I say.
“I like you, too,” he says, gathering me close. “But that should make you happy, not leave you with a broken heart.”
A broken heart. Is that all I have to offer him?
I can’t tell him everything, even though I think he needs to hear it all. My brain wrestles with what to say. I should distract him or share something else besides the truth. Instead the truth comes out before I can stop it. “This is just something I’ve never had.”
Confusion deepens his frown. “You mean a decent relationship?” he asks.
The way he holds me is so shielding, it’s as if he can sense those demons that constantly surround me, pointing out the ways I’m failing. Perhaps that’s why more of the truth spills, no matter how hard I try and hold it in. “No, happiness.”
Landon doesn’t move and doesn’t breathe. I’m ready to take it all back.
No, I’m ready to run.
He fastens his hold when I try and pull away. “Why haven’t you been happy?”
Don’t say it. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Stop talking. “You’re good to me.”
Don’t tell him. “And . . .” Please don’t tell him. “I love you.”
Landon releases me, his hands dropping to his sides.
A small embarrassed laugh escapes me as I wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it’s too soon.”
The song switches to Bon Jovi’s Always. I can’t see Landon’s face. He’s too busy drilling a hole into his deck with his gaze. “I really am sorry,” I offer again.
“Don’t be.” He looks up at me, the devastation in his expression matching everything I’m feeling. “I’m sorry I can’t say it back.”
Misery pours over me. Sometimes, things are so beyond sad, you can’t cry. But this feeling isn’t for me, and for what I don’t have, it’s for Landon and everything he lost.
I clutch his shoulders and lift up on my toes. My mouth seeks his, my tongue sweeping over his in a delicious tease.
He grasps my arms, pulling me away, his jaw clenched tight. “I want to be able to say it. Do you understand? I want to. I just can’t right now.”
I’m not trying to make him love me, or force him into a corner where he feels he has to say something he’s not ready for. What I do want is to show him what he means to me, and how much I miss his touch.
“You don’t have to,” I tell him. “Please, just let me make you feel good.”
My lips devour his, hunting for his passion. I don’t want Landon to hurt or suffer. I’ve felt that pain too many times in my life.
He hauls me to him, permitting me in and returning my affections with primal desire. His large hands clench my hips. Mine shove between us, yanking his belt free and unzipping his fly.
I reach in. “Fuck,” he grunts.
We stagger backward as I begin to rub, starting at the base and tightening as I reach his throbbing tip. My back hits the side of the house. I don’t stop, too enraptured by how his body moves up and down against me, matching the glide of my hands.
Landon tries to reach beneath my skirt. I don’t let him, falling into a crouch and taking him far into my mouth. The way I handle him isn’t remotely tender, it’s aggressive and deeply erotic, my desire to erase his pain shoving aside my timidity.
Landon’s voice turns animalistic, his words low and throaty. He tells me how good it feels and how much he wants me.
I moan, my efforts and the heavy lust in his timbre turning me on and making me go faster.
His palms slap against the siding, the force vibrating against my spine with his release.
I told him I love him. I suppose I wanted to prove it, making this moment about him and the excitement he stirs within me.
His legs tremble as he finishes. I wait, taking everything. As his movements slow, I slip from beneath him, the change in position allowing Landon to take center stage.
He kicks out of his shoes and jeans, stalking toward me as I back into the house. I’m almost halfway across the living room when he peels out of his shirt, slamming the glass doors and setting the alarm.
I stop at the base of the stairs, watching as he marches across the room, his feral stare keeping me in place. “My turn,” he says, wrenching me against him.
He rips my panties off, tearing the flimsy fabric from the side as his teeth find my neck. I grip his arms to keep from falling when his fingers find my folds. The delicate skin is already slick, pleasing Landon as he pushes his fingers in and out.
My knees buckle, he holds me in place allowing me to enjoy my orgasm before ridding me of my dress.
“Take off your bra,” he tells me, his hot breath and mouth over my nipple, sucking hard through the lace.
Ardor seers painfully through my veins, causing my thighs to clamp. Landon parts my legs, flicking and circling my center. I don’t curse much. But I’m cursing now, close to screaming as I lose my mind.
He bites down on the center of my bra, pulling at the fabric. “Baby take it off,” he begs me. “I want to taste you for real.”
I pinch the band over the hooks, the fabric slipping between my fingers more than once before I finally unsnap my bra. I still have one strap dangling over my shoulder when Landon’s mouth pulls in my nipple. He lowers me on the steps, hooking the back of my knees with his arms and spreading me open.
I kick out when his face disappears at the “V”, my already tantalized skin pulsating with every flick of his tongue. My next orgasm comes hard, but it’s the one that follows that has me screaming his name.
It’s too much for Landon. He lifts me, placing me on all fours, my knees on the stairs, my hands a few feet up.
My eyes scrunch closed as he joins us. “You’re so tight,” he says, his voice pained.
I turn back to look at him, worried I’m somehow hurting him.
I’m not certain what catches in my expression. He freezes, not moving for what seems like too long. Slowly, he eases out of me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, certain I harmed him.
He cups my face carefully, the tenderness in his visage bringing me close to tears. “Not here,” he says.
He sweeps me into his arms, slipping off my shoes as he carries me up the stairs. They fall and bounce to the bottom as we reach the second level.
My desire to numb Landon’s torment made sex with him unbearably raw. But as he lowers me to his bed and climbs on top of me, the sex we have becomes something more.
It becomes the love I intend it to be.
Chapter Twenty-One
Landon
My phone rings. And rings. And Goddamn rings.
I ignore it. With Luci so warm and close beside me, it’s easy. Sunlight streams through the large windows. In the distance, the sea’s lyrics calls out a good morning. Or afternoon. Can’t really say I know what time it is. Can’t really say I care.
Ever since we started seeing other, I’ve looked forward to waking up with Luci naked in my arms. I knew it would happen, we’ve grown so close. I just didn’t expect it to mean as much as it did. But I suppose I didn’t expect it to mean as much the first time.
Last night was different than the first time she came home with me. I like what she did, and how hard she took me. Her aggression was a turn on,
making me hot and surging my lust several degrees.
I wanted to return everything she gave me. But when I flipped her around and saw the look on her face, I couldn’t do that to her.
She made herself vulnerable to me, in her actions and in what she claimed. I make her happy she’d said. It was amazing to hear and what I want. But to then hear happiness was something she’s never had was enough to tear me open.
The final blow came when she told me she loved me. I saw what it took for her to be so honest. I saw it in her gentle features and how it left her raw when she looked at me. Whether she planned it or not, Luci had exposed her soul. She wanted me, sure, but I wanted something better.
Lust is one thing.
Luci is something more.
My eyes close and I settle back against her, only to groan when the phone starts ringing again, and again, and again.
Luci stirs, the strands of her hair tickling my nose. “Babe?” she says.
God damn, she has the nicest way of saying, “Answer the fucking phone.” I grin, although that ring has me ready to smash the phone to bits.
I flop over and away from where I’m curled against her, swearing when I knock my phone off the nightstand. I reach it as it stops ringing, noting two missed calls from Trin. I place it on the stand, guessing it will ring in five, four, three—
Ring. Damn. Ring.
“Hello?” I mumble.
“You still in bed?” Trin asks.
I mutter something that may or not have been polite. She laughs. “Why, Landon, what on earth are you still doing in bed at this hour?”
She’s lucky I like her. “Did you need something, or did you just call to piss me off?”
“My, you’re cranky. What’s wrong, couldn’t sleep?”
“Trin,” I mumble.
“Poor thing, were you up all night, tossing and turning, trying to get just right?”
“Trin!”
She sighs, ignoring me per usual. “I remember that feeling. The only difference is now when Callahan and I are up past ten it’s because the baby’s up, not because we’re reliving the night of his conception. Although the other night, Cal, Jr. did go down early. We were able to sneak onto our deck. Have I mentioned how limber my man is—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I say.
“Why? This is where the story gets good.”
“I’m sure it does. Just as I’m sure I don’t want to hear it,” I tell her. “You want to talk about what you and your man do, call Becca, that’s what she’s there for.”
“Oh, believe me, I do. Why just the other night I told her about the time me and Callahan were out in the woods and—”
“Trin,” I beg, falling back against the mattress. “Knock it off.”
Luci giggles beside me. I turn, sweeping back her hair to kiss her neck.
“Is that Luci I hear? Oh, what am I saying, of course she’s there. How could she let a catch like you go? Lovely girl, just can’t wait to see her, or talk to her again. Put her on, will you?”
“You want to speak to Luci?” I say, lifting off her.
Luci adjusts what remains of the bedsheets around her, smiling as Trin yaps away.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Trin asks. “She’s all sorts of nice, pretty too. Are her eyes lavender? I thought they were. I haven’t had a good look at them. But I’m sure you have all those times you’ve whispered sweet nothings in her ear, between praising your sugary sweet sister, I mean. You have praised your sugary sweet and intelligent sister, haven’t you? What am I asking? Of course you have!”
“She can hear you,” I say, when Luci laughs. “Not that it’s hard.”
Trin doesn’t miss a beat. “Well in that case, put her on. I don’t want her thinking I’m rude or that I’m talking about her instead of to her.”
Luci holds out her hand. I stare at her palm, as I continue to talk to Trin. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” Trin says.
“Don’t embarrass her,” I warn. “And don’t embarrass me.”
“Now, why would I do a thing like that?” Trin asks.
“Because you’re you and that’s just what you do.”
Despite my well-founded reservations, I concede and hand Luci the phone. “Hello?” she says.
“Luci, I’m so glad to find you there. Landon is such a good man, and I’m not saying that because I love him. He can be annoying, I know, like when he leaves the toilet seat up or squeezes the toothpaste from the center instead of from the bottom. But we all can’t be perfect. Anyway, we’re having dinner at my parents’ house tonight and Momma and I would just love for you to join us.”
Luci turns enough that the sheet falls away, revealing the swell of her breast. She seems hot, bless her heart. I do the right thing and pull the sheet the remainder of the way. She yanks it back up, narrowing her eyes and pointing at me.
But damn it she’s hot. I don’t want my woman to suffer.
“That’s so nice of you to think of us,” she says. Stop it, she mouths when I snatch the sheet away and toss the crumpled mess to the floor.
Stop being so damn sexy, she means.
“What would you like us to bring?” she asks instead.
She squeaks when I pull her onto my lap, my fingers sliding over the round globes of her ass.
“Just yourselves,” Trin says. “We’re having crown roast.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she stammers. She points at me. Behave, she mouths.
To be honest, I don’t know exactly what she said. She might have meant “more” or “don’t stop” or something like “I can’t live without you, you sexy beast. Kindly pleasure me with all your alpha might.”
All I know is, Luci enjoys art. To be nice I start painting the Mona Lisa across her breasts with my tongue.
“I’d love to bring something if I can,” she manages, her body shuddering when my teeth graze the stiffening points of her breasts. “Would you like dessert?”
“Oh, yes, I would,” I murmur between her breasts.
Poor thing is jerking so hard she screws up my perfect portrait and I have to start all over again.
I return to her nipple seeing how that’s probably what Mona would want.
“When would you like us to come?”
“The sooner the better,” I whisper, dragging my tongue further down.
“What time can you get here?” Trin asks.
My fingers turn circles against her back. “Later, much later,” I mutter.
“Six?” Luci asks, her lashes fluttering.
“Perfect,” Trin says. “Tell Landon—”
I swipe the phone. “Goodbye, Trin,” I say, and disconnect.
The phone slides across the mattress when I toss it. “You hung up on your sister,” Luci accuses.
“And?” I say.
“And that was rude.”
“No, rude would be saying no dinner to make sweet love to you instead.” I think about it. “But my parents would understand if I opted for the lovemaking. They’re good like that.”
Her arms wrap around me. “You’re trouble, mister. I knew it from the start.”
“Then why didn’t you run away screaming?” I tug on her bottom lip. “Instead of flashing me like you did.”
She lifts a finger and drags it along my jaw. “I didn’t flash anything, but a smile.”
“That’s all you needed.” I pull her into a bear hug, she melts against me, her soft hair cascading along my arms. “You could have said no to dinner.”
I don’t have to see her to know she’s smiling. “I wouldn’t do that. Your family is so welcoming. I’d never want them to think I’m keeping you from them.”
Yet another thing that makes Luci so special. I trail my fingers down the sweep of her waist. “They would have understood. We came here for us, not them.”
“Does this mean you don’t want to have dinner with them?”
“No,�
�� I say, realizing how much time with Luci and my family would mean to me. “I just want to make sure you want it too.”
“I do.” She kisses that delicate spot behind my ear. “They’re sweet. Like their son.”
“All right. We’ll go, later. For now, let’s just make it about us.”
The taut centers of her nipples graze my chest. If I allowed it, I’d let them get me hard and we’d pick up where we left off earlier this morning. Except the more I think about last night, the more I realize too many things have gone unsaid.
“I’m sorry about what happened.” I ease away from her slightly. “I mean what didn’t happen.”
I don’t have to spell it out. By the way her hand passes along my cheek and the gentle way she speaks, she knows what I’m talking about. “I don’t want you to tell me something you don’t feel.”
The problem is, I feel it. Fear can cripple a man, make him less than he is. Combine it with the heartache only betrayal can bring and it’s enough to fire that final bullet into his heart.
“I want to tell you something about me, something that happened during my marriage that I never got over.” I loosen my hold slightly. “Maybe then you’ll understand why I hold back.”
Her hands fall to hold mine, steeling herself for what she’s about to hear. “She hurt you, didn’t she?”
I nod slowly. As distant as that memory feels here with Luci this close to me, it’s a vicious undercurrent threatening to pull me down. “I thought we were okay,” I admit. “Not great, and definitely not perfect, but where we should be.”
“And where was that?” she asks.
“Married,” I say. But that’s all I can say me and Bernadette were.
Luci waits, not quite understanding what I mean. I do my best to explain as messed up as it sounds. “I’m not sure what I expected when I proposed. Maybe something better than what we had. I thought in showing her how committed I was, she would commit to our relationship and prove we did belong together.”
“It sounds like you had problems even before,” she says.
She’s not judging. If anything, she seems concerned.