by Kendall Ryan
Can’t breathe.
The only thing I can do is feel. And, holy shit, does it feel amazing. It’s hot and wet and perfect.
The potent sense of satisfaction is so primal, it renders me speechless. I’ve been waiting all my life for a feeling like this to hit me. And now it has, and I’m so far out of my element, it’s not even funny. Falling for Aubree is like playing goalie without pads, and the hits just keep on coming.
Lust shoots through me, skewering my heart, and I’m gone. I’ve fallen for this girl.
“Landon,” she murmurs.
“It’s so good,” I say on a groan. “Fuck, you’re incredible . . .”
“More,” she says softly. “Yes, there.”
She pants hot against my throat when I shift my hips up, finding an angle that makes her shiver in my arms.
“Oh, Landon,” she whimpers, shaking with need. “Don’t stop. Just. Like. That.”
There’s no way in hell I’m stopping, but the amount of restraint it takes to maintain Just. Like. That. is no small achievement. Especially when all I want to do is slam into her like some kind of wild animal in heat. Thankfully, I resist that urge, but just barely. I want to make this good for her too.
Because so far? This is the best night of my entire life.
• • •
Aubree
A gasp of satisfied hunger pushes past his parted lips. “You’re mine now, Bree,” Landon growls into the heat of my throat.
The pleasure is so blinding, I squeeze my eyes closed and hiss out an uneven breath. How is this moment even real?
I’ve never been this overwhelmed, this overcome by desire before. It’s like I’m hyperaware of every little thing. From Landon’s sweet, drugging kisses to the way my body stretches to accommodate him, to the exquisite little growling sounds he’s making as he sinks deeper inside me.
He started slow, tentative at first, almost like he was testing me, testing his weight above me, testing how much of his thick length I could take. But now his hips rock urgently into mine, his powerful thrusts sending fractures of heat racing through every nerve ending.
This is supposed to be about him, not me. But as Landon moves above me, bliss spirals through every cell in my body, sweeping out everything else until I’m nothing more than a tangle of heat and lust, threatening to burst into flames, consumed by a wildfire of sensations that burn hotly through me.
His eyes are focused, unblinking, and the muscles in his jaw flex. “You feel incredible,” he groans, his wide chest rumbling with the sound.
This situation between us might be uncertain, and all kinds of crazy, but something about this man makes all common sense fly out the window, while simultaneously cranking my libido up to an eleven. I want him in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before.
With my emotions in a tangled knot, I draw a shaky inhale. I tried not to fall for this man—my husband—but I know in this moment my attempts were futile. Looking into Landon’s eyes, watching him sink deep inside me for the first time, feeling his possessive caresses all over my skin . . . I realize that guarding my heart was pointless.
“You do too,” I say on an exhale. It’s the truth. His body is a finely honed machine of muscle and power, and damn, does he know how to use it. In fact, there’s one muscle in particular that’s exceeded all my expectations.
His breath rasps unevenly against my throat, hot and loud and urgent. His hips roll forward, pressing deep, deep enough to unlock something new inside me, and a jolt of pleasure makes me gasp. Holy shit.
“There?” he asks, breathing hard.
Trembling, I moan, so close already.
“Yeah, baby?” He thrusts deep again, and I pant out his name.
He takes direction well, studying what I like, lingering in the spots that make me moan and quake, quickly becoming the best lover I’ve ever had. Holy unexpected plot twist.
He claims my mouth again, his tongue touching mine in soft strokes like we have all the time in the world. And maybe we do.
I’ve thought about what our first time might be like. Of course I did. But it was nothing like this. No, this is way better than I ever imagined.
Stroking his tongue with mine, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing his impressive length in even more. Landon stiffens, his mouth halting on mine.
“Aubree, fuck.”
With my legs still wrapped around him, I trail my hands along his broad shoulders, absolutely enthralled with the feel of his big, muscular body moving over mine.
The sensation inside me builds, and I can’t hold it back any longer. It crashes over me in a sweeping wave, and I fly apart, breathing hard and clutching his rock-hard ass as my body constricts tighter. The feeling peaks, drenching me in heat.
He makes a low pleasure-filled sound, his eyes opening to find mine as he feels me coming for him. “That. Feels—” He groans. “So. Fucking. Good.” His wide chest trembles as though he can barely contain himself.
I press my lips to his neck, tasting his skin, loving the scratchy feel of his stubble along my cheek. We’re both breathing hard, and I push my hands into his hair, turning his face to mine so I can kiss him again.
“I’m going to . . .” He groans. “Should I . . .”
I shake my head. “Inside me.”
With shaky breaths, Landon’s measured thrusts become erratic, uneven, and he curses again, pressing his face against my neck. Then I feel it . . . his warmth inside me as he makes one last low noise of pleasure.
Holy hell, that was intense.
Long before I’m ready for him to, he moves carefully off me, withdrawing slowly as he breaks our connection. I miss the heat of him immediately.
“That was . . .” Breathless, he pauses, his hair a rumpled mess from my roaming fingers. His dark eyebrows push together as he studies me. “Was it okay? For you, I mean? For me, it was fucking amazing.”
I smile at him, trailing my fingers along his defined jaw. “It was amazing for me too.”
Landon returns my smile, and my heart squeezes.
Never in a million years did I expect to be here. Yet, here we are, in this perfect moment, and I can’t deny how right it feels.
I won’t let myself think any scary thoughts about the future right now . . . I just enjoy the feel of his strong arms around me as he pulls me even closer. I nestle into the warmth of his firm chest and close my eyes, content for now to be exactly where I am.
17
* * *
Coming Back for Seconds
Aubree
The morning sun filtering through the curtains stirs me awake.
Between dancing the night away at the reception and our private after-party back here at our villa, our beauty rest was well earned. Still, if given the option, I’d stay here in bed with Landon all day, alternating between sleep and sex. But we promised our friends we’d grab brunch with them this morning, so unfortunately that’s not an option.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I blink up at Landon, who has so graciously served as my pillow for the night. His lips are parted slightly, and soft snoring sounds vibrate through him.
With all the nervous excitement about his first time, I sort of forgot that this is also our first time sleeping together in the literal sense. Usually, I toss and turn throughout the night, battling stress dreams and waking up in a convoluted mess of wrapped-up sheets and ejected pillows. But last night, I didn’t move from my spot tucked into the crook of Landon’s arm, my cheek pressed against his firm chest.
Careful not to wake him, I peel myself out of his arms, then tiptoe to the bathroom as quietly as possible. When I return, I see that my attempt to be quiet was a bust. He’s sitting upright in bed, his dark hair tousled from either sex or sleep or both, shooting me an adorable, sleepy smile.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” His voice is raspier than usual first thing in the morning, rumbling low in his chest. It’s sexy, to say the least.
“Good morning to you too. How’d you sleep?”
“Like a
fucking rock.”
He stretches his arms over his head, waking up his sleepy muscles. It makes me regret turning down his past invites to spend the night with him. Watching my shirtless husband stretch and flex his muscular arms in our shared bed is more than a little bit of a turn-on.
It’s at this point that I realize that I’m standing here, totally naked, having a completely normal conversation. Even if he is my husband, it feels a little odd to be this exposed to him in a totally non-sexual situation. I wander toward my suitcase to dig out a sleep shirt and slip it over my head. When I settle onto the edge of the bed, Landon looks at me like I just committed a crime.
“What’d you do that for?”
My brows scrunch together. “What are you talking about?”
His mouth crooks up as he shakes his head in disapproval. “Why the hell did you put on a shirt when you know I’m just going to take it right back off?”
My lips part, my breath catching in my throat. Before I can formulate a response, he’s pulling me into his arms, peeling my shirt up and over my head before tossing it right back toward my suitcase.
“Much better.” He growls against my neck, his hands gripping my hips while he trails kisses down the column of my throat. He cups my breasts firmly in his hands, giving one nipple the slightest flick with his thumb, then the other.
Instantly, any leftover sleepiness is pushed out of my system, replaced instead with pure, unadulterated need.
“Shit.” I shudder against his touch as he slowly takes one nipple between his lips, teasing me. He’s good at that. Electricity jolts through me, and I buck in pleasure.
He grins up at me, his blue eyes flickering mischievously as he slowly pulls back from my breasts, bringing his attention to lower. He touches between my thighs, testing my wetness. And based on the groan of approval I get, I take it he likes what he finds.
“I want to fuck you,” he rasps out, his voice husky.
He may lack subtlety, but the rough edge to his voice makes my pulse jump. He wants me. And by the way the sheets are tented beneath him, he’s ready for me too.
I press against his shoulders, easing him back onto the bed so I can climb on top of him. “Can we try it like this?”
“God, yes,” he pleads on a shaky exhale.
I push the sheets aside, aligning myself with his full, impressive erection. Maybe it’s just morning wood, but it’s incredible that he’s so hard for me already. I grip his base, giving his thick shaft a few precursory strokes. When I lean in to kiss him, he teases my clit with his thumb until I can’t bear to wait another moment.
Another second of foreplay would be torture. I need him inside me. Now.
One slow, deliberate inch at a time, I lower myself onto him, and the second he’s inside me, we moan in unison. How the hell does this feel even better than it did last night? I’ve only taken half of him when his hands clamor for my hips, easing me down until I’ve taken every last inch of his length.
“Holy f-fuck,” I stutter, trying desperately to find my breath.
He squeezes my hip for reassurance. “That okay?”
Okay? It’s more than okay. It feels more heavenly than I thought was possible on this earth.
But right now, I can’t possibly form a sentence, so I meet the question with action, rocking my hips against him slowly, guiding him to the place deep inside me that I know will be my total undoing. He moans my name, my full name—Aubree, not Bree—over and over as I ride him, my hands pressed against his shoulders as he holds tight to my ass.
“I’m so close, baby,” he says through clenched teeth, his thumb circling my clit as he rocks his hips against mine.
“Me too,” I pant.
As soon as the words leave my lips, my body follows, twitching and pulsing until pleasure is pouring through me in slow, hot waves. I’m still riding my high as he falls over the edge after me, emptying himself into me in hot bursts. When he’s totally drained, I collapse into him, resting my head against his heaving chest until my breath slows back to normal.
“Wow,” he whispers, running his fingers through my hair. “How am I ever going to let you leave the bed now that I know how much fun that is?”
I smile against his chest. We lie there, intertwined with each other for a long, perfect moment before reality kicks back in. Unfortunately, it comes in the form of a weird noise coming from outside our door.
At first, I think it’s knocking, and I frantically tug the sheets up to cover my naked self. But then the sound grows louder and louder, joined by a muffled holler worthy of the sidelines at an Ice Hawks game.
And that’s when it hits me. It’s not knocking outside our door. It’s applause.
Am I in the middle of some twisted dream, or do we have a freaking audience?
I shoot up in bed, scrambling to grab my phone from the end table. It’s 10:28. Almost a half hour after we agreed we’d meet our friends for brunch. So, yeah, that would be them outside our door.
“Oh my God,” I blurt, showing him the time.
I can hardly make words happen right now, but Landon seems surprisingly unfazed. He just chuckles, raking his fingers through his messy hair before shoving back the sheets.
“Well, I guess we shouldn’t leave our friends waiting.”
I’m awestruck at how casual he is about this, but one look at the smirk on his lips has me smiling right along with him. I guess at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. Our curtains are drawn, so it’s not like anyone saw anything. And who cares what our friends heard? At least now we don’t have to figure out how to tell them that Landon’s V-card has officially been swiped.
We fumble out of bed, scrambling to put on whatever clean clothes are on the top of our suitcases. I use the bathroom and dress quickly in a black-and-white striped T-shirt dress, strictly because it means not having to put together an outfit. Paired with my favorite pair of strappy sandals, I can almost pass for someone who tried this morning. I clean up last night’s makeup that I forgot to take off, then brush my teeth, combing out my sex hair with my fingers. Yesterday’s half updo has left me with a few curls intact, and with a swipe of deodorant and a quick brush of my teeth, I don’t look half bad.
Meanwhile, Landon somehow is making a pair of cargo shorts look good, an almost impossible feat. That hockey player butt possesses magical powers, I swear.
“Ready to go?” He reaches out a hand, and I lace my fingers tightly through his.
“Ready as I can be in under five minutes.” I catch one last glimpse of myself in the mirror, tucking back a stray hair. “You sure I look okay?”
“Gorgeous as always,” he says, sweeping his thumb over my lower lip giving me one last gentle, grateful kiss. “Thank you again for last night. And this morning. And for . . . everything, for trying with me.”
“Trust me, Landon.” I give his hand a squeeze. “You were well worth the wait.”
I suck in a deep breath as Landon flips the latch on our door and tugs it open, revealing our cheering group of friends on the stone patio. Justin puts two fingers into his mouth and lets out a piercing whistle, while Bailey breaks into the Ice Hawks’ fight song.
These fricking idiots.
I squint into the sunlight as I follow Landon’s lead out onto the patio, stepping into the oppressive heat. The cheers continue as Landon locks the door behind us, and Sara holds out a hand to high-five me. It feels like we’re being bombarded by the paparazzi, not our friends.
“Good morning, guys,” Landon says, trying and failing to mask the fact that he’s smiling with pride.
“I’d say you had a real good morning.” Justin snickers, clapping his teammate on the back.
Landon just keeps walking, his shoulders pushed proudly back as we strut, hand in hand, past our friends and down the sidewalk toward the hotel restaurant.
“Holy stamina, Lovey!” Elise calls after us.
“Hey now.” Justin scolds her, then jumps right back in with the whooping and hollering.<
br />
Landon looks over his shoulder at our adoring fans, shaking his head. “Fuck off,” he says with a laugh. But he doesn’t stop smiling for even a second.
His world? Officially rocked.
18
* * *
Now What?
Landon
It’s been three weeks since Owen and Becca’s wedding, and Aubree and I have spent almost every night together—either at her place or mine. We’ve shared meals and conversation, and had a lot of sex. Sometimes I initiate it, and sometimes it’s her. But it’s always really, really hot.
We’ve grown closer, talked about every topic from work to goals to childhood memories to favorite vacation spots, you name it. I like coming home to her at night, like eating dinner with her and talking about our days. I love having her in my bed. And as good as things have been between us, I can’t help but feel like we’re overdue for an actual chat about our future and where we stand.
Because the only thing we haven’t talked about?
Us.
And the worry about that has settled over me like a weighted blanket. I’ve fallen for her. I can’t picture my future without her, or maybe I just don’t want to.
Owen and Becca have just returned from their honeymoon in Greece, and he’s been bombarding the guys on the team with text messages and photos from their trip. So, when my phone chimes in the other room, I expect it to be another dozen or so pics of idyllic little white buildings perched above turquoise water.
“We get it, dude. Greece was incredible. Blah, blah, blah,” I mutter as I make my way into the kitchen to retrieve my cell phone from the counter.
But the notification isn’t for a text from Owen. It’s a voice mail from Coach Dodd.
Thirty minutes later, I’m lingering in the doorway to his office. He spots me and waves me inside.
“Thanks for coming over on short notice. I prefer to do these things in person. We’re a family, ya know?” Coach says, eyeing me from over the rims of his wire-framed glasses once I enter his top-floor office.