by Tara Leigh
It was like Landon couldn’t bear to be near me and not touch me.
Landon’s hands might not be able to grip a pair of drumsticks at the moment, but they had no problem making me break out in goosebumps.
And every so often, he would run the tip of his nose through my hair, breathing deeply as he planted light kisses along my scalp. It was more arousing than if he’d ripped my panties off, spread my thighs and plunged his tongue inside me.
Of course, that would be pretty damn great, too.
Under the guise of ordering takeout, I excused myself to the kitchen. Given the long list of inflammatory food Landon had to avoid, there weren’t many options. I ordered from a vegan café, then placed a furtive call to Travis. “I’m just checking in. Your assistant hasn’t sent me the details of where I’m taking Landon tonight.”
“My place in the Valley.”
I exhaled a relieved sigh. I knew the house well. There was plenty of room and it was relatively close to the rehabilitation center. “Great. We’ll head over there soon.”
“Don’t. I’m having my security company install a pool alarm and it’s not ready yet.”
“A pool alarm, really?”
“I’m not taking any chances, and I don’t want Landon there while the work is done.”
“They need twenty-four hours for that?” I heard the desperation creeping into my voice.
“Well, while they’re out there, I’m having the system upgraded and the whole place rewired. It will be done by tomorrow at noon.”
I snuck a glance around the wall. “What am I supposed to tell Landon? He wants to go home. I ordered dinner and should be able to keep him here for another hour or two.”
“Don’t tell him anything yet. Can’t you just let him sleep at your place for a night? Avoid the conversation as much as possible, give Landon his medication after dinner, and let him fall asleep while watching TV. The insurance policy is all taken care of, but the doctors said that stress could adversely affect his recovery.” I imagined Travis rubbing his head again. “Landon may seem like he doesn’t give a shit about anything, but it’s just an act. He loved that damn house, and I’d rather he get a good night’s sleep before he sees it.”
“Landon’s not stupid. And he wants to go home. I’m stalling but it’s not going to work forever.”
Travis acted like I had already agreed. “When he wakes up tomorrow, just take your time bringing him to his house. He won’t be able to stay there for a while yet. I’ll text you the new entry code to the house in the Valley as soon as I have it, and you can expect a big bonus in your next paycheck.”
“Piper, you coming back?” Landon’s voice came through the open kitchen.
I whispered a hurried goodbye to Travis, not caring at all about the money, and threw my phone in the back of a drawer. “Yep. Dinner should be here soon.”
“Good,” he said, eying me as if I were his next meal. “I’m starved.”
* * *
Landon came up behind me as I was unloading our dinner. Standing so close, the warm pulse of his muscles sent a prickle of awareness across my skin. “I think maybe now is a good time to clear the air, talk about what happened with us.”
My breath stuttered, and I nearly dropped the kabocha stew. Somehow I managed to right it before it hit the table, setting it down beside containers of kale salad, kimchi quesadilla, quinoa stir-fry, and fresh pressed juices. Panic thrummed within my veins. Landon wanted to talk now? On a night when I couldn’t let him out of my sight?
No way. I wasn’t ready for that conversation, and if I didn’t like what I heard, I had no escape. We weren’t back in my dorm room. Right now, Landon was my job. I couldn’t exactly berate him over what a shitty boyfriend he’d turned out to be six years ago. Calling a client a douchebag, even when it was the truth, was a terrible career move.
I shook my head and pretended to be unaffected by the desire clenching my stomach. “I think I’d rather take a rain check.”
Landon lifted his hands to my shoulders, and I swear they burned me through my shirt. “You sure? I thought girls were all about clear pathways of communication.”
He reminded me of Delaney. “Um, have you been watching Dr. Phil?” I stepped aside and looked at Landon once I’d put a few feet between us. His cheeks were flushed, and I laughed. “Oh my god, you have!”
He crooked a smile. “I balance it out with Judge Judy though. That woman has enough balls for the both of them.”
“Game of Thrones, Dr. Phil, and Judge Judy. Your viewing habits are pretty indiscriminate.”
He peered at the takeout containers while I arranged plates and utensils. “Makes up for yours. Every show on your DVR was from the same network.”
“Adam and I watched them together.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve been meaning to ask, since when did you start getting turned on by metro types?”
Had I ever been turned on by Adam? “My feelings for Adam are none of your business.”
“Someone’s a little sensitive about their boyfriend,” he teased.
“If you’re so interested in my ex-boyfriend, maybe I should invite him over.” I gestured at the crowded table. “I mean, we have all this food.”
He scowled at me, then at the scattered takeout containers. “Not sure this qualifies as food.”
“Don’t blame me. The list of what you can’t eat is longer than what you can.” Not entirely sure how well Landon could serve himself, I spooned out generous portions of each dish and set them in front of him. Trying not to appear as if I was paying close attention, I served myself and then held my breath as I waited for Landon to pick up a utensil.
Like most drummers, Landon was ambidextrous, although he had previously favored his right for eating and writing. Now he picked up a fork with his left hand, and I breathed a sigh of relief as he successfully attempted a few bites. For a few minutes, there was only the sound of forks scraping plates, and the sound of eating. “You know, I don’t think you ever told me—what made you want to be a drummer?”
Landon tensed, shoving another mouthful of food past his lips and chewing slowly. “Why do you want to know?”
I shrugged, feeling his reluctance from across the table. “I don’t know. Of all the options to pick up, drums seem the most intimidating to me.” I’d only been trying to make small talk, and was surprised that this one question seemed to have touched a nerve.
For a long moment, Landon stared at his plate as if the answer was written somewhere in his vegetables. His brow was furrowed, a vein pulsing at his temple. Finally, he sighed and looked up again. “Drums were the only instruments you weren’t expected to buy or rent in order to play. You could just use the kit they had at school. The Coxes had just taken me into their home and I wanted to play something, but I wasn’t about to ask them for money.” He paused. “I didn’t want to give them a reason to send me away.”
I swallowed the food that had turned to dirt in my mouth. I was looking at one of the sexiest men in the world, but it was an orphaned boy looking back at me.
My heart broke open for the foster kid that only wanted to be loved.
He blinked, and the boy disappeared back inside pupils so dark they were like mirrors. “You never played an instrument, right?”
I had to find my voice. “I wanted to, but my dad didn’t like noise, so our house had to stay pretty quiet. I wouldn’t have been allowed to practice at home, so I’d never be any good.” I pushed my plate away. “What would have been the point, right?”
“The point?”
“The point of trying something I’d never be good at.” I shrugged, picking up my fork and pushing at what remained on my plate. “Besides, I was already busy enough.” French club, student council, cheerleading. Activities that kept me busy, and out of the house. Distractions were good; distractions that kept me away from home were better.
Before I could lob another question his way, I blurted out something I’d never admitted before. Not eve
n to Landon. “I didn’t like being home because my father hated me.”
He glanced up sharply, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth.
The words kept coming. “Maybe it should have made me feel better that he hated my mother, too. But”—I shrugged—“It didn’t.”
He put the fork down, leaning back in his chair. “He told you that?”
“No, not explicitly. But it was pretty obvious.”
That crease between his eyebrows deepened. “He hit her?”
“No, never. Although sometimes I wish he would have. Just once, so she would have had a reason to leave him. Because what my father did was worse. He just…ignored her. Can you imagine living with someone, year after year, who barely acknowledged your existence?”
“And you? How did he treat you?”
“The same, really. I spent my entire childhood trying to be perfect, but there was one thing I could never fix.” Blinking back tears I refused to waste on that man, I pushed my half-empty plate away and met Landon’s sympathetic gaze. “I was my mother’s daughter.”
Landon
All this time, I thought I’d been the one keeping secrets from Piper, holding back the kinds of details that would turn a conversation into a confession.
Seems Piper had withheld her share of secrets, too.
“He was a fool, Pippa,” I ground out, knowing all too well how the feeling of being unwanted crept into your soul, corroding from the inside out. Knowing there wasn’t anything I could say that would make it better. For most of my childhood, all I’d wanted was to be ignored, to be left alone. Piper and I had grown up on opposite ends of a shitty spectrum, and both had left permanent marks.
“Maybe. I used to wish I had a brother or sister, but I felt guilty enough leaving my mom there. I’m not sure I would have been able to leave a sibling in that house.” She gave a small shiver.
“I used to wish for a brother,” I admitted. “At least, until I was put into the system. There aren’t resources to keep siblings together, so we’d have been separated.”
Piper’s gaze softened, and she stretched out her hand to cover my own. “That would have been awful.”
I stared down at her smooth skin, the white half-moons of her nails at the ends of her fingertips. “Yeah, well. Be careful what you wish for, I guess.” The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to sprint after them, swallow the whole damn sentence with a wheatgrass chaser.
Of course, Piper latched right on to it. “You got your wish? You have a brother?”
Her expression was so sweet, so open. So oblivious. I speared a piece of broccoli, but my stomach turned at the sight of it. I dropped it, along with my fork, grumbling, “It’s complicated.”
Piper huffed a small sigh, a look of resignation on her face as she started closing half eaten containers. “Yeah, I know all about that.”
I stood up to help, too quickly. I swayed on my feet, the room tilting. Piper jumped to my side, pushing me back into my chair before I could fall over.
I closed my eyes, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth like the nurses had told me to. When I opened them again, Piper was staring at me nervously. “What can I do?”
“Nothing, just give me my pills and I’ll be fine.”
“But you only took them—”
“Piper.” Her name came out much harsher than I intended. Before I could attempt an apology, she’d crossed the room, gathered my pill bottles, and set them in front of me without another word.
I felt like a jackass, not just for barking at her, but for sitting at Piper’s table while she cleaned up around me.
Then again, I didn’t want to pass out on her floor either.
On one of her trips back to the table, I pulled her down onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her waist, kissing her the second she opened her mouth in protest. The only damn woman who could make kimchi taste sweet. I ended it with a groan. “My house is probably aired out by now. I should head home.”
She shook her head. “I think you should spend the night.”
Even with my head spinning, it felt like I took the first deep breath in six years. Just knowing I was going to spend my night with my arms wrapped around Piper made me believe my upside down world had righted itself. And this time, I sure as hell wasn’t going to fuck it up again. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She put her palms flat on my chest and pushed. “Um, no thank you.” Surprise made me loosen my arms and she squirmed away.
I frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I’d rather you not pass out on top of me.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Oh really?” She put a hand on her hip. “And how can you be sure?”
“Because you’ll be on top.” It was a tease, but I’d happily turn it true.
Piper’s lips twitched and she held out a hand. “You think you can make it to my bedroom?”
I did, and I quickly stretched out on the mattress, pulling her down with me. Cutting off the protest that was on the tip of her tongue with a whispered, “Just until I fall asleep.”
With the meds swimming through my veins and Piper secure within my arms, I was unconscious in minutes.
* * *
Piper must have fallen asleep, too. With the soft light of dawn coming through her shades, my chest to her back, her sweet ass nestled between my thighs, my dick rose with the sun.
Regardless of my ability to play drums, the day I couldn’t give my woman an orgasm was the day I needed to find myself a pine box and take a long goddamn nap.
A subtle shift of my hips had Piper’s legs inching open and I slid my left hand along the curve of her hip, the flat plane of her belly, working my way beneath her sundress.
Tentacles of pain clutched at my spine with each small movement, but the endorphin rush from waking up beside Piper was prying them loose.
Piper moaned a soft, breathy sound that had me impossibly hard and pulsing in an instant. But this moment, this morning, wasn’t about me. I had so much to make up for when it came to Piper. If I were better with words, I’d craft a heartfelt apology. A plea both elegant and precise. Words designed to get me what I wanted. Forgiveness. I wanted more than that though. I just wasn’t quite sure what, or how much.
But this—mastering Piper’s body. Reading all her delicious cues. Giving her what she needed, when she needed it. Soft. Hard. Rough. Gentle. Fast. Slow. A little bit dirty. Here, at least, I could give Piper everything she wanted.
When it came to playing Piper’s body, I was a fucking maestro.
For a moment I cupped my hand over her plump mound, pride of ownership racing through my veins as I bit down on her shoulder. My fingers delved into Piper’s slick heat, and I caught a whiff of apples from her hair. Sucking the fleshy lobe of her ear into my mouth, I licked the tender skin beneath it. God, she smelled and tasted like the sweetest orchard.
Piper’s limbs loosened in a drowsy stretch, my name leaving her mouth on a sleepy sigh. I loved this. Loved how Piper’s body awakened beneath my touch, opening up for me like a rose at dawn.
Her tight muscles yielded for me, welcoming me into her body. And this time, the noise I heard was mine. A groan so guttural, so needy, it had Piper tensing in my arms, an ancient instinct for self-preservation sensing danger. And that instinct was right.
When it came to Piper, I was a lethal weapon with no kill switch. I wanted everything she had to give.
And then I’d demand more.
“Nah, baby. Don’t fight this.” My whisper was a gritty rasp, my lips hovering over her ear.
“Landon.” She repeated my name, and it wasn’t a sleepy sigh. It was a warning. A question. Questions. Should we? Should I? Is this a bad idea? Will I regret this?
Yes. Yes. Yes. Probably.
And I didn’t care.
Because the girl in my arms was soft and warm and sweet and sexy.
She was everything I’d ever wanted.
She was exactly what I’d never deser
ve.
And I still didn’t care.
When my thumb swept over that plump berry in the orchard that was Piper Hastings, she ceased to care, too. A shudder vibrated through her bones, and she melted once again.
Mine.
For now.
Chapter Eleven
Piper
I was furious with myself for giving in to Landon this morning. Furious in a blissed-out, post-orgasmic kind of way.
The air was laced with Landon’s scent. Sex and seduction and sin.
I wanted to drown in it.
“You need to take a shower,” I blurted.
He grinned, leaning into me and running his nose along the curve of my neck, planting soft kisses on my shoulder. “You gonna join me?”
Goose bumps prickled my skin. Damn that sounded good. Although Landon would barely fit in my tiny shower as it was. If the two of us attempted it, we’d likely flood the apartment. I stepped back, shaking my head, my mouth dry from desire.
“You have anything in there that won’t leave me smelling like an apple orchard?”
Reluctantly meeting his eyes, I nearly swooned at the tender smile tugging at his full lips. I hated that Landon was making it next to impossible to stay mad at him. “Your masculine pride is afraid of fruit?”
“Yeah,” he teased. “My pride is terrified.”
I turned away before he could see the blush rising on my cheeks. “Just don’t use all the hot water.” His throaty chuckle ringing in my ears, I spent the next ten minutes standing with my face inside the freezer door, trying to cool my flaming skin.
The walls in my apartment were thin. I heard his clothes drop to the floor and the metallic slide of my shower curtain across the bar. The sound of the spray hitting tile, then Landon’s broad shoulders. His groan as the warm water pelted his back.