by Tara Leigh
Fuck. Frustration was a gnarled, toxic knot deep in my gut. Frustration at Piper, at myself, at this whole fucked-up situation. “Why?” I finally managed, the single word a harsh rasp. A desperate question. A damning indictment.
She took a shaky sip of her wine, setting the glass down with a slight tremble. “Because you left me. Because I didn’t take a job with Travis just so I could be close to you. And because,” her voice softened slightly, “until tonight, I decided not to waste my time pursuing someone who didn’t want me back. Even if that someone was you.”
I let her words seep into my brain, trying to make sense of them. “You think I don’t want you?”
She hesitated. “Do you?”
I stepped closer, lowering my mouth so that it grazed the rim of her ear. “I’m going to make something real clear. When it comes to you, Pippa, want is all I’ve ever known. And I’ve never wanted anyone the way I wanted—want—you.”
As Piper absorbed my words, I studied the rapid flutter at the base of her throat. Framed by the delicate bones of her clavicle, I had a sudden and almost irresistible urge to lick the shallow indent. Feel her heartbeat pulsing against my tongue. Taste her sweet skin.
I set my drink on the bar before I shattered the glass in my hand. “Wanna get out of here?”
Her breathless “Okay” sounded better than anything sung into the microphone outside.
We were just a few steps away from the front door when I heard my name called.
Travis’s questioning stare landed on me first, then narrowed as it slid to Piper, his lips pressing into a disapproving line. Fuck. He probably had some rule against employees mixing with clients.
In a blink, I slumped against her. “Hey there, Trav,” I fake slurred. “Your girl here was jess tellin’ me I need to go home. But I don’t wanna. Tell her who I am. Tell her I can stay.” I punctuated the last word by appearing to trip over my own feet. Reflexively, Piper reached up to catch my weight.
Travis cursed, rushing across the marble tiles and grabbing my other arm. I shrugged him off. “Hey, get off. I don’t do dudes.”
Travis backed away, rolling his eyes and rubbing his bald head. “I can have security take him home.”
Piper tugged at my elbow. “It’s fine, they’re short-staffed tonight and I was planning to leave anyway. He’ll probably pass out once I get him in the car and I’ll drop him off at his place on the way to my own. We’ll be fine.”
Travis eyed me again and I let my eyes droop. “All right. Thanks, Piper. I didn’t realize…” He sighed, glancing back at his guests outside. “If he gives you any trouble, you call me right away, okay?”
Piper nodded and hustled me out the door. I continued my act, lurching diagonally across the driveway, changing directions every few steps, until the music was little more than a buzzing in the air.
Certain no one was following us, I transitioned into a normal gait and slanted a grin at Piper as I retrieved my keys from my pocket. “Maybe I deserve an Oscar to babysit my Grammys?”
She rolled her eyes, the childish gesture reminding me of the college girl who had set my heart on fire. “Don’t get greedy. You play drunk well enough to fool Travis, but I don’t think you’re ready for Spielberg yet.”
I laughed. “You drive here?”
“Yeah, my car is right there.” She pointed at a Mini Cooper not much bigger than a golf cart. What it lacked in size it made up for in color—a bright teal.
“Jesus. Drive that on a highway and you’re just begging to get run over.”
She stiffened, yanking her arm from my hold. “Only by jerks who don’t know the difference between actual driving and bumper cars.”
I raised my hands, chuckling. “Relax, I happen to be great at both.” Pulling my key fob out of my pocket, I pointed it at my truck. A black F-450 that could have driven over Piper’s car with room to spare. “We’ll leave yours here and I’ll bring you back for it tomorrow.”
“No way,” she said with a quick shake of her head. “And besides, Travis knows I wouldn’t let you drive anywhere in your state.”
Hearing a pair of footsteps coming down the driveway, I decided we needed to get out of there. With a groan, I pushed my keys back in my pocket and held my hand out for Piper’s. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
She didn’t budge. “How many drinks did you have?”
Damn she was cute. How had I forgotten how cute she was? “One and a half.”
“I’m driving.”
Throwing my hands in the air, I stalked toward her glorified go-cart. “Fine.”
Piper
Fine.
A shudder ran through me at the single word Landon had huffed. He clearly didn’t realize that, as far as I was concerned, tonight would be anything but fine.
I was putting fine in my rearview mirror.
And it was terrifying.
Uncertainty whispered through my veins, sending goose bumps rising to the surface of my skin.
I wished Landon had kissed me. I was craving a taste of the potent blend of insolence and intention that brewed within his soul. Just one would have quelled my hesitation instantly.
Because now, watching Landon squeeze into my tiny car, scrounging for the lever to push back the seat so his knees weren’t at his throat…now I wasn’t feeling very brave.
Silently, I cursed Delaney for making me think a night with Landon was some kind of stepping-stone to figuring out why I’d been so willing to settle for fine with Adam. To settle for fine, period.
“Piper,” Landon called. “If I have to get out of this car to come get you, I’m not getting back in.”
His teasing threat finally propelled my feet forward, and I slipped behind the wheel.
Christ. The overhead light transformed the hardened collection of planes and angles that made up Landon’s face into a breathtaking work of art. A face that tempted me as much now as six years ago. Me and thousands of other women. “You’ll have to give me directions,” I choked out.
My heart was pounding, the effort making my ribs vibrate. I gulped a breath, but it only made things worse. The air inside the small car was heavy with Landon’s scent—malt liquor and masculinity. Intoxicating.
Landon nodded, lifting an arm corded with ropes of muscle to push his hand between my neck and the headrest, his strong fingers digging into my tense shoulders. I released a soft moan and shifted into gear, every nerve in my body attuned to Landon’s slightest movements.
For the next half hour, Landon assumed the role of navigator. I was thankful I’d stuck to my guns and insisted on driving. I had no idea where tonight would lead, but it was reassuring to be in control of the physical act of getting there. The steering wheel was solid beneath my fingers, the road signs comforting in their familiarity. The world hadn’t changed overnight, and it wasn’t going to change tonight, no matter what happened between Landon and me.
“Almost there,” he said, shifting in his seat again, trying to find a position where his long legs could stretch a little farther before giving up with a muttered curse. I’d had only a few sips of wine but I felt drunk, buzzing from proximity to the sexiest man I’d ever known. Knowing I was about to get into bed with the sexiest man I’d ever known. Again.
How many women had Landon slept with since the last time we were together? My “number” was a whopping one. Adam—my gay ex-boyfriend.
Suddenly I wasn’t just nervous about getting into bed with Landon, I was worried about being good in bed.
My throat was dry, my skin itchy. Maybe a sudden case of hives wouldn’t be a bad thing. I could claim an immediate need for Benadryl and calamine lotion and get the hell out of here.
“This is it.” Landon’s voice pulled me out of my reverie. We were deep in the Hollywood Hills, a luxe enclave favored by celebrities and wealthy elites.
I pulled into a driveway practically hidden by jacaranda and birch trees, the gate already opening as he pointed his phone toward the window and keyed in a code.
That had been fine with me. The last thing I ever wanted was to be financially dependent on a man. I’d seen how that kind of relationship looked up close, and it wasn’t pretty.
I wanted a marriage of equals. A partnership built on an even playing field.
Maybe now Landon had realized he could live in the moment and yet still plan for the future. That they weren’t mutually exclusive ideals.
A heady mix of pride and admiration swept aside my anxiety, and I turned to him. “The day you bought this place, how did you feel?”
He flashed a proud grin. “Nearly as good as I feel right now.”
I returned it, wondering what else had changed with him.
The second I parked, Landon grabbed my keys and launched himself out of my car with a relieved groan. “Jesus, your car is a freakin’ torture device.”
He came around to my side and opened the door. “Race ya to the pool.”
I could only stare as Landon headed for a narrow path around the house. Grasping the back of his T-shirt, his muscles rippled as he pulled it off, tattoos gleaming beneath artfully placed exterior spotlights.
A rush of heat invaded my senses, racing through my veins before pulsing between my thighs. With one last squeeze of the steering wheel, I forced myself to get out of the car.
My four-inch wedge sandals felt unsteady on the gravel driveway, and not much better when I stepped onto the stone walkway Landon had taken.
Or maybe it was my composure that was wobbling.
A soft breeze ghosted over my skin, the night air cool and heady with the scent of lilac and lavender. I was wearing jeans and a frilly blouse that left my shoulders and arms exposed, but my shiver had nothing to do with the temperature.
Landon stood beside an infinity pool that went right to the edge of his property, the sprawl of Los Angeles rolling out behind him like a carpet woven through with twinkling Christmas lights. It was a gorgeous view…And by view, I meant Landon.
All six feet, two inches of him. Naked.
The glow of the interior pool lights danced over his ripped muscles, the ink covering his arms and chest coming to life. My fingertips tingled, remembering the feel of those arms. So many of Landon’s tattoos had covered the visible scars of his childhood, the legacy of crackhead parents who thought the end of a lit cigarette was an appropriate punishment.
I stood still, unable to move a single muscle.
“Come on in,” Landon called, as if skinny-dipping in the middle of the night was just a normal, everyday occurrence. Maybe for him, it was.
I tried to recall the last time I skinny-dipped.
Precisely the twenty-seventh of Never.
Landon executed a graceful dive off the edge, the silhouette of his body like a dark missile shooting through the water. Not until he’d reached the other end did he come up for air, standing in the shallow end and slicking his hair back like a wet Adonis. His eyes locked on to mine. I hadn’t moved, still standing closer to my car than the pool.
“Do I need to come out there and get you?”
Yes. “No. I—I’m fine.”
“You’d be a hell of a lot better if you came closer. Preferably in the water. With me.”
The intensity of his stare pulled me forward until I was standing at the edge of the pool, not knowing how I got there.
Landon’s lip curled as he glided through the water. “You gonna jump in?”
I looked down at my clothes, my shoes. “I’m not really dressed for swimming.”
“So get undressed. For me.”
I took a step back, but Landon was too fast for me. One of his hands wrapped around my ankle and held tight. As if he’d done it a million times before, he unclasped the buckle of my wedge sandal and pulled it off my foot, setting it down on the stone tiles. “Other one,” he ordered.
Maybe it was the pleasure of his cool wet hand sliding against my overheated skin, or maybe relief at having the choice made for me, but I obediently shifted onto my now bare foot and let him remove my other shoe. Once it was standing next to its pair, Landon covered my toes with his palms and looked up at me, flashing a smile.
A smile that was both arrogant and achingly tender. A smile that shined from his eyes, too, making them crinkle at the corners. A smile I’d only seen him give to me.
That was the Landon I remembered. The one without the mega-mansion and infinity pool. The loner who practically hid behind his drum set. The lover who could keep me in bed for days at a time.
“I know you know how to swim,” he taunted in a throaty growl.
That was true. Six years ago, Landon had known everything about me. Well, everything I’d been willing to tell him. Now, what did he know? Where I lived, that I had broken up with my boyfriend, and I could swim. Pretty scrawny list.
So, let him get to know you—even better this time.
But, did I really want that? Did I want to feel like complete shit when he walked away from me again? Would it hurt any less this time around?
I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life with a front-row seat to my mother practically begging my father to love her, unsuccessfully. I’d have to be crazy to doom myself to the same fate.
And besides, what did I really know about Landon anymore? Where he lived, what awards he’d won, and that he liked to skinny-dip at night.
Maybe we were on even footing, after all.
“Do I need to come get you?” Landon asked, with that delectable mouth of his.
Jesus, I think I want to bite that bottom lip.
I stepped back from the pool, holding Landon’s gaze as I shimmied out of my jeans, then pulled my shirt over my head. Telling myself a bra and panty set was the same thing as a bikini.
Knowing it wasn’t at all the same thing.
I shivered again, wishing I’d worn underwear that was more conservative, and with more coverage, than the pale pink lace set that blended with my skin tone and showed everything underneath.
But when I spared another shy glance at Landon’s face, that trepidation disappeared. His eyes shined with reverence, gleamed with desire. A switch deep inside me flipped, and I allowed myself to feel like the woman mirrored in his gaze. Beautiful. Desirable. Valued.
Landon Cox could have any woman in the world. And, right now, he wanted me.
Chapter Six
Landon
Piper’s pink lips were parted and glistening, needy breaths making her chest rise and fall. The hollow at the base of her neck fluttered as her hands moved from her sides to the band of her jeans, working the button. Lust curled around the base of my spine, the heat of my desire making the cool water feel like a bathtub.
Her hips swayed, inch after inch of flawless skin exposed as she smoothed the denim down her legs. Long and lean, my hands itched to touch.
I groaned as her fingers lifted the edge of her shirt and drew it over her head, exposing a tight stomach and full breasts barely contained by a whisper of pink lace. Letting the shirt fall to the ground, she shook her head, her blonde mane cascading down her back and shoulders like a silken veil.
Never one to be at a loss for words, my breath caught in the back of my throat, afraid to speak, afraid to breathe in case I unknowingly spooked her. In case I did anything to fuck this up.
And then she turned.
My heart pounded, gut twisting.
Piper was walking away.
Fuck
. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
When I realized she was only walking to the shallow end of the pool, to the stairs, my knees sagged. I went from standing to crouching, my shoulders barely above the waterline.
Standing on the first pool step, her feet hidden by the water, legs together, Piper looked like a mermaid. Precious and ethereal. The stuff of myths and legends.
My gaze returned to her face as she took one tentative step, then another, my mouth going dry as the water rose higher, covering her knees, her thighs, her hips. I waited until she was at the very last tier before standing up and moving forward. The night was lushly quiet, the air layered with the sound of the pool jets and chirping cicadas, energized by our rapid breathing.
With Piper on the lowest step, we were closer in height than usual, her pupils dilated so widely I could see myself reflected in their dark depths. I lifted wet hands just above her shoulders, sending droplets of water to slide down her skin. They jumped over the ridge of her collarbone and raced along the curve of her breasts, dampening the lace of her bra.
I shuddered a breath and dipped my head low, sweeping my tongue over the tight buds of her nipples straining against the flimsy fabric.
Piper shivered, biting down on her full lower lip and letting her head fall back. Giving herself to me.
With the edge of my pinkie, I pulled the lacy edge down, exposing her breasts to the moonlight. A hungry growl rose up my throat from the pit of my stomach. “So fucking beautiful,” I marveled, taking first one into my mouth, then the other. Piper arched her spine, a soft whimper trickling from her open mouth as she grabbed hold of my shoulders.
Fisting her hair in my hands, I licked my way up her breasts, my tongue dancing along her collarbone and throat, finally landing on her sweet, sweet mouth. I sucked on her bottom lip, savoring the taste of her.
I was like a fat kid in a candy shop—I couldn’t get enough.
Piper melted into my embrace, her knees bucking. Needy hands slid from my shoulders to my neck, hopping off that step to lock her ankles just above my ass. Deepening our kiss. Demanding more from me.