by Paige North
When I swung the front door open and stepped outside, he was already getting out of his car.
“What are you doing?” I said, my voice a half-whisper. “It’s late. Everyone’s asleep.”
“I needed to see you,” he said, his voice sending chills up my spine.
“Okay, well—you’ve seen me,” I said, folding my arms and giving a shrug.
“Taryn,” he said, coming closer. His voice sounded strained.
“What?”
“Let’s not do this,” he replied.
“Do what?” I asked innocently.
“Let’s not pretend that what happened last night was nothing.”
I laughed. “That’s your area of expertise, Landon. Pretending like nothing happened and nothing matters.”
“You didn’t even wait for me this morning,” he said. As he drew closer, I could see the whites of his eyes, and his pupils, black as he stared at me. “I told you to take my car. But you just left.”
“I needed to go.” I sighed. “And now I need to go inside and get some sleep, Landon. I have a lot to do tomorrow.”
He grabbed my wrist before I could turn away. “What do you have to do tomorrow?” he asked. “You work for me. Maybe I’ll give you tomorrow off.”
That’s when I realized that Landon didn’t know.
He had no idea that I was leaving, that it was over. He still thought he was the one holding all the cards, the one with all of the power over me.
“Fine,” I said. “Either way, I’m going to bed now.”
“I’ll come with you,” he said, his voice a throaty growl.
My nipples stiffened and I realized that I actually wanted him to do it. Wanted him to come to bed with me, there and then. One last time before I left him for good.
It seemed somehow fitting that I would do to Landon exactly what he’d done to me three years ago. Spend the night together and then leave town the next day without so much as a wave goodbye.
“Okay,” I said. I went inside and Landon followed quietly behind me.
His hands trailed to my hips as we walked over the creaky floorboards, past Matt’s bedroom and finally to my own room. I went inside and he followed, before closing the door behind us.
Now it was just him and me, alone in my bedroom together.
“Kind of like old times,” he said softly, raising an eyebrow.
I didn’t smile at his joke.
Without breaking his gaze, I reached down, unbuttoning my t-shirt and slipping it off my shoulders. He didn’t move, as if he was rooted to the spot. The cool air of the room blew over me, causing goosebumps.
Or maybe it was the intensity of his gaze.
I stepped away from the window, unzipping my skirt and dropping it to the floor.
And then he was walking towards me. His slacks hung perfectly on his hips. As he got closer, he began loosening his tie.
He stared at me for a long moment, then slowly unbuttoned his cufflinks and set them down on my desk nearby.
We didn’t speak. Not as he traced a thumb across my jaw, his own jaw hardening as he clenched his teeth.
We didn’t speak as he slid a hand over my bra strap, sliding it down my shoulders.
And I barely breathed as he leaned forward, his lips crashing into mine as his hands curled around my back, yanking me against him.
He was hard already, and I could feel his pulse against my fingers as I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, wanting him closer. He backed me up until I sat down hard on my bed with a loud creak from the worn springs.
I set my hands on the mattress, leaning back to allow him access to my breasts as he unsnapped my bra and it tumbled to the floor.
He didn’t hesitate to lean down, sucking on my breast. But this time, he wasn’t gentle, wasn’t slow. I gasped as he bit down, hard enough I was sure it would leave a mark, something to remember him by when I was alone in Dallas.
There was something more aggressive about him today, power and hunger emanating off him in waves.
Or maybe it was simply that we’d gone down this path before, that he was confident I wanted this in the same way he did.
He slid me forward, until I was barely perched on the edge of the bed, and let me fall back, so that my elbows were now on the bed, and my legs parted for him. He climbed onto me and pushed against me, grinding the hard line of his cock against my damp underwear.
He pulled on my hair, forcing my head back so that he could kiss against my throat, his breath coming in heavy, deep groans.
“Shhhh…” I said, putting my fingers up to his parted lips.
My own breathing turned jagged as I squirmed against him. He was driving me insane, pushing me toward the edge and I still had my underwear on, my breasts exposed.
And yet he was still dressed, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, his slacks concealing the thing I wanted most.
I reached for his belt, unbuckling it with greedy hands. But he reached down and stopped me. “I want to taste you,” he said softly, kneeling in front of the bed now.
I felt exposed, wishing the lights were off as I sat there, gasping as he pressed his mouth against my clit. Even though the thin satin underwear, his mouth was hot. I gripped the bed harder, raking in a jagged breath of air.
He spread his fingers across my hips, slipping his fingers into the elastic edge of my panties. In one motion, he slid them down my hips, discarding them on the floor.
And now I was naked, perched the edge of the mattress and exposed, while this man, this agonizingly attractive man, was still in his button down and tailored slacks, only his muscular forearms exposed.
I ignored the urge to cover up as he kneeled again, gripping my thighs with his hands and nudging my legs apart. He grabbed my calves, draping them over his shoulder as he leaned in.
And then his lips and his tongue were on me, hot and wet. He circled my clit as a finger slid across my slit, teasing me. Dipping in and out, just a frustratingly small tip of his finger.
But I wanted more. I ached for him, wanted to beg him to plunge inside me and take me, fill me up in the way only he could. Instead he was tauntingly slow, deliberate. His hands held my legs apart as his tongue darted in and out, circling and circling and driving me toward the edge.
I buried my hands in his hair, panting now. Pleasure spiraled through me, building and growing. I wanted to cry out but managed to hold it in, as the tingles in my body grew, until I couldn’t take it anymore. And then the intense climax hit, my entire body throbbing with pleasure. He knew I was coming but he didn’t stop, his tongue swirling as the pulsing ebbed, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
He stood and undressed, unzipping his pants and unbuttoning his shirt.
Moments later, his thick, hard cock was unleashed and he was lowering himself onto the bed and onto my waiting body. Before I knew it, he was sliding between my legs and entering me.
Fucking me the way I’d wanted.
Fucking me the way I needed. This is what I would remember.
This is what I would take with me when I was away from him. The pain of the leaving was already in my stomach, deep inside, merging with the pleasure he was giving me.
It was an ache deeper than I could name.
“You feel so good,” he whispered into my ear, biting and nipping at my tender flesh as he fucked me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, so that my bare breasts pushed against his hard chest.
I wrapped my legs around him as his thrusts grew rougher, harder.
And then he shoved one last time, hard, and slowed, his cock throbbing inside me. I groaned, relishing the feel of it.
He stilled, his chest heaving, my arms still around his shoulders. He kissed my neck, and then straightened, and I had to reluctantly release him.
“Can you stay for just a little while?” I asked, my voice so soft that only he could hear me.
Landon nodded. He crossed to the other side of the room, turned off the light and then came
back to the bed.
He crawled into bed beside me, holding me close, as I turned and let him spoon me.
I wanted to remember what this felt like. The heat of him. The feel of his strength, his scent, the knowing that we’d been as close as two people could be.
I mentally recorded every emotion, every sound, every sensation that went through my body.
Soon, the only thing I’d have left of Landon would be memories.
* * *
He left before dawn, kissing me and telling me that he’d call me later.
I almost broke and told him the truth, but then my resolve strengthened again. There would be no breaking down and admitting the truth. I wouldn’t spare him, just as he hadn’t seen fit to spare me the pain and confusion of the last three years spent wondering why he’d left so suddenly.
I still had no answers.
Now it would be his turn to wonder.
I lay in bed, unable to fall back asleep, my thoughts racing. Just before dawn, I got in the shower and then changed into my traveling outfit—light capris and a sweater.
My flight wasn’t until early afternoon, giving me plenty of time to pack my stuff before I had to go.
My suitcase was stored in the closet under the stairs, so I went down and tugged on the string attached to the light and dug it out. It was worn, a black that looked more like grey.
I dragged it toward the kitchen, colliding with the chairs, knocking one to the ground. I froze, worried that I’d woken my father and my brother. Dad didn’t need to be up for another hour or so, and Matt…well, Matt liked to sleep late even on his best days.
But no one stirred, so I picked up the chair and scooped up my brother’s jacket that had fallen to the floor.
I was draping it over the back of the chair when a piece of paper scratched against my hand.
Sliding it out of his pocket, I saw Franciscan Medical Center printed across the top. My throat went dry. I never wanted to see those three words again, because that’s where my mother went… and didn’t come home again. I sighed and sat down. If her death hadn’t been enough to break us, the bills nearly did. The last thing we needed was yet another.
I slipped my thumb under the flap, sliding out the tri-folded paper. But as I flipped it open, I knew immediately it wasn’t a bill. The letterhead was an unfamiliar name, a Dr. Wallace.
My heart climbed into my throat as I saw my brother’s name. And then it stopped completely when I saw what the letter was about.
It was a diagnosis.
Lymphoma.
My brother had cancer.
The End of Book 1
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