by Serena Grey
He makes a face. “She could have told you that over the phone.”
“She could have,” I admit. Alex is another person in my life who can’t stand Ava Sinclair.
His gaze turns more serious. “Do you think he’ll go away? We’re having to field questions about unlawful acquisition of properties, coercion, and bullying. How long before the rumors become ammunition for a more powerful enemy? We’ll survive any investigation of course—we’re clean—but at what cost?”
I shake my head. If we go after him now, that will be the story, and I promised Ava I’d let her take care of him, for now. “He’s a failure with a substance abuse problem,” I tell Alex. “Nobody will listen to him.”
Alex looks unconvinced. “Well, once you decide you want to go after him, we can bury him.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
The next day, there’s a round of last-minute preparations and meetings, and of course, Rachel’s arrival. I can’t wait for her to see how the hotel has turned out.
I message her as soon as my watch tells me she should have landed.
Tell me you’ve arrived.
I have.
I can’t wait to see you.
Me neither.
I have no choice but trust her to Tony and Claude as I’m still swamped with meetings, but I call her as soon as I have a moment.
“Are you settled in?”
“Yes. The hotel is beautiful, Landon.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
She sighs. “Where are you?”
“Downstairs.” But I can’t go to her right now, as much as I’d like to. “Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes!” She laughs. “Everybody keeps asking me that.”
Her laughter makes me smile. “I want to see you. I have the press conference in about half an hour. After that, I’m coming to you.”
“Are you sure you have the time?”
“I’ll make it,” I tell her in a low voice. “I’m so fucking hot for you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll feel it for days.”
Her response is a little breathless. “You have a hotel to open and homeless people to raise money for—are you sure you should be thinking about sex at a time like this?”
“Can you blame me? I have a hard-on just from the knowledge that you’re here, and it’s not going anywhere until you take me inside your hot, delicious pussy.”
I know she loves it when I talk dirty, and I’m not disappointed. She sighs. “You’re making me so hot.”
“Stay that way. I’ll be with you as soon as I can manage it.”
The press conference goes smoothly for the first half-hour. I answer questions and try to be charming, though I would rather be anywhere else.
“How are you dealing with the rumors about your unlawful acquisition of property?”
The question annoys me. It’s the first time I’ve had to address Evans Sinclair’s malicious rumors publicly, and the truth is, I’d rather not, especially not today.
Without abandoning my smile, I address the reporter. “I should clarify that the rumors are not about the unlawful acquisition of property. They are merely speculation, driven by gossip, about the reasons why people feel confident enough to entrust their properties to the Swanson Court brand. If you take a look at the Gold Dust, today. Ms…”
“Hader.”
“Ms. Hader.” I pause. “Compared to the Gold Dust of say, two years ago, the reason should be obvious.”
More questions follow that, and none of them mention the rumors again. Soon, the hour ends and it’s time to go to Rachel.
Tony hurries over to go over my itinerary for the rest of the day.
“Just email it,” I tell him.
“I already have.”
I check my phone. The itinerary is there, along with a few other emails, one of them from a management address at Insomnia Lounge.
An amateur photographer was shopping for buyers for photos and videos he took around the club yesterday. One of our people saw this. I thought you might want to know.
It’s from Duane, who manages the club, and it’s a short video of Rachel and Jack outside my club, kissing.
For a moment, I’m totally frozen, unable to do anything but stare at the image. Then white-hot jealousy twists inside me.
Containing my thoughts, I type a quick reply. Thanks, but there was no need. Just make sure he loses the video.
I don’t wait for him to reply. I go back to watching it, dying slowing each time I see Weyland pushing his tongue into her mouth.
I watch it until my insides are burning with bitterness.
Why did she come to me after being with him?
Why the fuck is she here?
Up in the suite, Rachel is on the sofa, watching my press conference on TV.
“Hey.” She draws out the word, smiling softly. Why does she look so happy to see me if she’d rather be with him?
I want to confront her, but I’m afraid to. I’m afraid she’ll confirm my fears.
I shove the phone into my pocket and glare at the screen. “I hate press conferences.”
“You handled that one well enough.”
“I had to.”
“I read about the rumors,” she says with concern. “Is it a problem?”
No, but you kissing Weyland is.
“Not really.” I shrug. “I know who’s behind them, and he’s bound by contract not to slander me directly, so he’s planting the gossip with the help of his social circle. They have gotten out of hand, but they only damage public perception. The banks and investors don’t care. Most businesspeople would rather cut off their ears than stop doing business with me.”
There’s an edge to my voice I can’t control, and I’m sure she notices. I toss my jacket aside and head to one end of the room, where a glass wall provides a spectacular view of the city and the bay.
Tell me what happened.
She doesn’t.
She comes to join me at the wall. Why can’t I stop thinking about her with Weyland? Why can’t I trust that there’s a good explanation? Why do I want to demand answers?
Focus on right now.
Right now, she’s here.
I stroke her cheek and she leans into my touch, sighing. “Are you worried?” she asks softly.
“No.” I shake my head. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“I’m not hungry,” she whispers. “Not for food anyway.”
It’s just sex, Landon.
Taking her face in my hands, I rest my forehead on hers, breathing in her sweet scent.
It’s just sex, Landon.
I draw in a breath and release her long enough to pull off my tie. Reaching for her, I curve my hand around the back of her neck and pull her in, claiming her lips in a hungry kiss.
Does she wish it was him right now?
If she did, she wouldn’t be here.
I wish I could shut off the thoughts, but I can’t. I release her, and she frowns, sensing that there’s something wrong.
She places gentle hands on my chest. “You said something about fucking me so hard I would feel it for days,” she reminds me.
“Yes.” I let out a chuckle. “I remember.”
She trails one hand down to the front of my pants, where it’s obvious how much I want her. My mind might be in chaos, but my body can’t resist her.
“I’m so ready,” she whispers.
For me.
I lift her off her feet, touching her back to the glass before setting her down and claiming her lips again. She moans into my mouth, and I lift her dress, slipping my fingers into her panties, where she’s already slick.
Does she respond to him like this?
I push the question from my mind. “You’re so wet.”
“I told you I was ready,” she replies, breathless.
I pull her dress over her head. Through the lace of her bra, I can see her nipples, pink and swollen. I take one between my teeth and she makes a breathy sound. With one ha
nd, she strokes the length of my cock, making it impossible for me to think.
Finally.
I take her lips again. Her hands are busy, undoing my pants and freeing me, then she pushes me back and gets down on her knees, taking me in her mouth.
It’s torture and pleasure at the same time, and it’s almost unbearable. I pull out of her mouth with a sigh and drop to my knees, joining her on the carpeted floor. I nudge her head back to my cock, and she takes me eagerly, sucking me deep.
My chest rises and falls. I’m almost breathless. My hands rove over her back, memorizing every contour, every smooth inch of her skin. I reach as far as I can, cupping her ass, sliding my fingers into her from behind.
“I love your mouth,” I rasp, straightening to watch her head bobbing up and down. I thread my fingers in her hair. “So hot…”
She moans, and with her lips around me, the vibration feels like heaven.
I nudge her away from my cock and up to her feet. “I want to come inside you,” I tell her. Still on my knees, I tug off her panties. I taste her hungrily, kissing her soft lips and sucking on her clit.
She loses her balance, but I hold her steady. She whispers my name, grinding her hips as I slip my fingers inside her. Unable to wait, I rise and steer her back toward the wall.
As soon as I lift her off her feet, she wraps her legs around my waist and braces her back on the wall. I drive deep into her and she grips me tight, her muscles squeezing me as if she’ll never let go.
God, she feels good.
Her nipples poke through the lace of her bra, and I free them from the sheer constraint, taking one in my mouth and sucking hard.
Rachel is moaning, whispering my name, telling me how much she loves what I’m doing. Soon she’s shaking, coming hard. When her orgasm subsides, I let her legs drop to the floor and turn her around to face the glass. I pull her hips toward me and enter her from behind.
She cries out, meeting me thrust for thrust. I want to touch her everywhere. I have a feral need to leave a mark on her somehow. I feel desperate and needy, almost afraid.
She cries out, shaking as her body explodes, clenching hard around me. I’m not far behind, whispering her name as I come.
I wait a few moments to catch my breath before I pull out of her and turn her around to face me. She wraps her arms around me as I lay kisses on her face, her cheeks, her lips.
Her smile is tender. “You really did miss me.”
I adjust her bra and pick the rest of her discarded clothes from the floor. “You haven’t seen anything yet,”
She laughs. “I can’t wait.” There’s a pause. “I missed you so much.”
And yet you couldn’t wait to lock lips with your ex.
I push the thought away, but not quickly enough. She catches the momentary change in my mood.
“What’s the matter?” Her tone is full of worry. “Is something wrong?”
I shake my head. “You should get dressed. There’s nothing wrong.”
She doesn’t believe me. “Tell me what’s wrong.” This time, it’s a demand.
I exhale then take her chin in my hand, lifting her face to mine. “I don’t like to share what’s mine. Not now, not ever. Do you understand?”
She backs away from me with a suspicious frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Jack Weyland.”
Her face clouds with hurt and disappointment. “Is that why you have Rafael driving me around? So you can spy on me?”
“I didn’t need to spy on you. You kissed him in front of my club. I didn’t need Rafael to tell me about that.”
“You could have asked me what happened instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“Oh, really,” I snort dismissively. That’s rich, coming from her.
“Yes, really.” She glares at me. “For your information, he kissed me. I neither wanted it nor invited it, and you know what? I don’t like to share what’s mine either, so the next time you decide to enjoy Ava Sinclair’s company, you can keep that in mind.”
With those words, she stalks away, heading to the bedroom. I follow her, because I’m not done.
“I thought we had this conversation about Ava.”
She whirls to face me. “I thought we had the conversation about Jack! Why were you with her yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me you used to sleep with her when I saw that picture of you two?”
“I’ve never asked you for an inventory of everyone you ever slept with,” I reply evenly. “Do you think I should punctuate everything I say about her with a statement about how, a long time ago, we used to fuck?”
“Maybe it would have been fair for you to give me that information seeing as everywhere I look, the two of you are being photographed together.” She stares at me, her eyes burning with hurt. “Was it also a business meeting yesterday?” She laughs. “Did you decide to save time by concluding your business over dinner?”
“You’re one to talk,” I toss back. “I’m supposed to endure an inquisition whenever you see and totally misconstrue a picture. Meanwhile, it’s perfectly okay for you to spend as much time as you like with your precious Jack.”
She makes a sound of disbelief. “My precious Jack?” Her eyes close, and she sighs. “You know what? I have no idea why we’re arguing. We both know why we’re still together, so we might as well forget the things we can’t agree about and you know, maybe fuck… That’s obviously the only area where we work well together.”
She heads for the bathroom, but I stop her. “You’re right,” I growl, pulling her to me. “Maybe we should do just that.”
She pulls her arm from my grip. “Just as long as you know I’m not Ava.”
I laugh bitterly. “And you know I’m not Jack.”
“God!” She stamps her foot. “How can you be so—”
“So what?” I interrupt, furious beyond reason. “So jealous? But you know exactly how that feels, don’t you?” I’m crazy with a need to possess all of her, and it’s killing me. I want to beg her to forgive me, to accept all of me, to forget anyone else but me, but I keep seeing that kiss in my head. I crush her body to mine and slide one hand between her legs. “This is mine,” I tell her. “You are mine, and your body knows it.”
At my touch, her breath hitches. “Landon…” she says, and it comes out like a moan.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” I continue. “It’s the only reason you ever agreed to be with me.” I carry her over to the bed and lay her on her back, her legs spread. “You like how it feels when my cock is deep inside you.” I kneel between her legs and undo my pants. “That’s what you want.”
At first, she looks as if she’ll argue, but her eyes meet mine and fill with a stubborn challenge.
“Yes,” she sneers. “It’s what I want.”
Why does it hurt so much?
It’s just sex, Landon.
Well she can have it. All of it. As long as she wants.
It’s over very fast. It’s pleasure and punishment for the both of us. She comes with a moan just as I climax. I pull out of her and lie beside her on the bed, ashamed and desperate.
I can sense her sadness like a solid wall between us. I watch her rise from the bed and, contrite, I take her hand, urging her back to sit beside me.
“I should have told you about Ava,” I say gently. It’s not enough. Even I know that whatever I say cannot mend the situation between us, not right now at least. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it mattered. I was wrong.”
She responds with a shrug. “It’s okay.”
It’s not.
“I tried not to care about you and Jack,” I continue. “You told me you no longer have feelings for him, and I tried to concentrate on that. I…I just couldn’t.”
She exhales. “I know how the kiss with Jack would have seemed to you, but it wasn’t what it looked like.”
She doesn’t offer anything else, and I let her go. I hear the shower running. I know I’ve pushed her further away, and I
have no idea what I can do about it.
Chapter 27
After her shower, we have a late lunch together. The conversation is awkward. There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know how. Finally, I give up and leave her alone, heading back downstairs to see how things are going.
When I return, Rachel is getting her makeup done. I take a quick shower and get dressed. With only my jacket left to go, I go out to the balcony.
Outside, the view is lovely as the sun sets, but everything inside me is chaos. I almost don’t recognize myself. I used to have a better handle on my emotions. I used to be in control, but with Rachel, I’m uncertain, confused.
She’s had me unsure of myself from day one.
And now it’s getting worse. I only know how desperately I want her, how I dread the thought of losing her.
When I return inside the suite, the makeup people are gone. In the dressing room, I pull on my jacket and fix my tie. As I button the jacket, I see Rachel in the mirror, standing at the door to the bathroom, watching me.
Her beauty is unearthly. Her makeup is perfect, and the deep blue stones at her ears set off the blue-green accents around her eyes. Her hair is swept to one side in an elaborate curl. She’s wearing only underwear, but I can’t imagine anything more gorgeous than how she already looks.
I should fall on my knees and worship at her feet. She deserves that, and more.
A hundred years should go to praise thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze.
“You look incredible.”
Her lips curve in a wry smile. “Thanks. I’ll just put on my dress and then I’m ready.”
There’s something about the tone of her voice that tells me everything has changed between us. I follow her to the bedroom and watch her slip on her dress, a pale blue vision that looks as light as gossamer.
I help her zip it up and she turns around to face me, that wry half-smile still on her face.
“I…” I search for a word that can do her justice. “I’m speechless.”
“Thank you.”
Lowering myself to my knees, I take each shoe from a box on the floor and carefully slip them on her feet.
“I’ll be waiting outside,” I tell her when I’m done.