by RC Boldt
I lose track of time, my orgasm leaving me shaken and limp, opening my eyes when he begins a slow trail of kisses up along my sternum. Between each, his husky voice acts as its own caress. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.”
Rising above me, eyes locked with mine, he takes my hand in his, urging me to grip the base of his cock. Together, with his fingers around mine, we guide his steely length inside me, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt.
Urging him closer, I raise my lips to his, eager for his mouth on mine once again. The instant our lips meet, it’s as if we’ve ignited an inferno of carnal need, and he kisses me like his life depends on it. With his mouth melded to mine as he fills me, this kiss heightens the sensation of our bodies joining. It’s euphoric and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.
I hitch my legs higher on his hips, desperately trying to get him deeper, to hit that spot. Rearing back, he guides one of my legs to drape over his arm and presses in slowly.
I swear I feel every damn ridge and curve of his cock, and the instant he hits that elusive spot, we both let out a moan. He rolls his hips in smooth drives, our lips meeting in a feverish kiss. I clutch at him, but he refuses to increase his pace.
In and out he pumps, steadily driving me closer to the edge once again. The cords in his neck are strained, the muscles in his arms braced on either side of me flexing with his movements.
“Landon.” My voice is needy, thin.
“Tell me what you need,” he rasps.
“You,” I whisper. “Just you.”
His eyes turn darker, and he lowers his head to capture my mouth once again, our tongues tangling as he cups and lifts my ass. It sends his cock even deeper, the base of it grinding against my clit as he pumps faster.
With one hand in his hair and the other gripping his ass, I urge him on. His cock thickens inside me, and my inner muscles flutter as I grow wetter. He groans against my mouth before lowering my leg and rolling us over with me on top.
“I want to watch my woman.”
He smooths back my hair over my shoulder, his one hand resting at my hip while his other descends to thumb lazy circles on my clit. His teasing strokes scramble every nerve ending in my body as raw, desperate need intensifies. Each hot grind of his cock has my breath panting in little gusts.
My nipples harden like stone, and my pussy grows even wetter. Planting my hands firmly against the hard wall of his chest, I ride his cock while his thumb continues its torment on my clit.
“You’re mine, you hear me?” Voice ragged, his words sound as if they’re being torn from somewhere deep in his chest. “And I’m all yours.” The hand at my hip moves around to mold around my ass, his voice so low and guttural that it’s barely audible. His thumb speeds up and my movements become jerky. “Fucking love you.”
“Landon,” I breathe out.
“Fuck, yes,” he grits out. Jaw clenched tight, the tendons in his neck jutting out, he gives deep, upward surges of his hips.
My body blazes for him, pleading for release, and I grow slicker around him. Eyes pinching closed, hips moving of their own volition, my muscles go rigid before my entire body quakes, and I pulse around him. I coat him in my wetness, my pussy clamping down tight on his cock.
Both hands gripping my ass, he tugs me into every deep upward thrust. His body goes stiff a second before he spills inside me. A grunt falls from his lips, mouth parted, heavy-lidded eyes watching me.
My arms feel unstable, and I lower my body against his, burying my face in his neck. My heart is hammering within my chest as if I’ve just run a marathon, but it’s only partly due to what I’ve physically experienced just now.
My heart knows the mess I’ve gotten myself into, just like I know I can’t bring myself to regret having this moment with him. Because in this instance, Landon Lattimer loves me.
I choose to ignore the fact that Kennedy Alexandre doesn’t really exist.
I choose to ignore that the real me doesn’t even come close to being good enough for him.
I choose to ignore it all because at least once in my life, a man believed that my body and soul were beautiful.
At least once in my life, a man showed me what love really is.
He’s given me a glimpse of what I could’ve had, had I chosen a different path.
Had I not become the murderer I am.
Chapter 77
Landon
Sunday
It feels as if I’m living in an alternate reality.
Sitting on the couch on a Sunday morning, I’m drinking coffee with my woman beside me. Legs draped over my lap, she’s wearing one of my T-shirts and has the sexiest bedhead I’ve ever seen.
And I want this. I fucking want this forever. After last night, I have to believe she wants it, too. I know she didn’t say she loves me back, but this is Kennedy. She needs to ease into things, and I respect that. Last night feels like we made substantial progress.
Shadows and some puffiness linger beneath her eyes, but she’s still beautiful to me. I was glad she actually managed to get some sleep.
“So…” I hesitate for a beat before rushing on. “I haven’t gotten word on what’s happening with the investigation and whether we’ll be needed next week.”
Something flickers in her expression, and I assume it’s because she’s fearing the end of our time together, too.
“But even if we’re not, I wanted to see if you’d like to stick around and go to a party with me on Friday night.”
“A party,” she repeats cautiously.
“A very special party,” I tease.
Some of the sadness ebbs from her features, and she eyes me with a hint of amusement. “How special are we talking?”
“The Vice President of the United States invited me.”
“And he’d be okay with you bringing a guest?”
My mouth forms a smug grin. “I kinda have an in with him.”
“Do you now?” I swear her tone holds the slightest edge, but when she offers me a small smile, I can’t resist leaning over and dropping a quick kiss to her lips.
“I do. We go way back.” Settling a hand on her thigh, I stroke her silky skin where it’s bared from the hem down to her knees.
“How far back?” She rests the side of her head against the couch and takes a sip of her coffee.
I stare at the mantel, where my last family photo sits. “Right after my dad died. I got into the wrong crowd and fucked up pretty bad. Mom made me go to the Boys and Girls Club after school each day, and that’s where the Vice President—who was the Secretary of State at the time—was volunteering.”
Peering down into my coffee cup, I continue. “He became my mentor, like a stand-in dad, and I really needed it at that time. He always listened when I needed to talk, and eventually, he suggested I consider joining the military once I graduated. I just had to get my grades out of the shitter and clean up my act.
“And I did. I was doing really well with staying on the up-and-up.” It’s not that I’m ashamed of my past, but my teenage self still pisses me off when I think about it.
“Until…?” she prods gently.
“Until I started messing around with a girl there. She was cool and really pretty. It wasn’t long before we started sneaking away to mess around. Since I helped him out with all the inventory for the sporting goods supplies and other stuff, I had access to the keys to the storage closets.” I turn to find Kennedy with a knowing look.
“Ahh. Teenage hormones.”
“Exactly. So, imagine my horror when, even after taking the precaution of wearing a condom every time, she told me she was pregnant.” I let out a sigh. “I was scared shitless. I’d just gotten my life together, and now that. I panicked and didn’t know what to do.”
She lays her palm over the hand I have on her thigh. “So, you went to him.”
“Yeah. He said he’d take care of it because Gina’s family was hard-core religious and would freak out. She stopped talking to me, and I wanted to help but di
dn’t know how. He told me it would be best to leave her alone because she’d decided to have an abortion.”
Her hand flinches overtop mine, and I grimace. “I know. I’d never have asked her to do that, but it was her body, and I felt like I didn’t have a say. It still sucked. It was our baby, and yeah, we were young and totally clueless, but still.” I turn my hand over to link my fingers with hers. “After the abortion, she ended up moving to her aunt’s place somewhere out in Wisconsin.”
“I’m sorry, Landon.” Sympathy fills her words, and I lift a shoulder in a shrug and clear my throat, fighting against the tightness lingering there.
“I finished my senior year, met Kelsey, and joined the military. But if it hadn’t been for him, who knows where Gina or I would be today. He ended up doing more than he ever needed to. He even wrote me a letter of recommendation on his own when I applied to the FBI.”
“Wow,” she whispers.
“Yeah.” I turn my head and lean it against the back of the couch. “Those are my dirty secrets. Think you can deal with them?”
The little laugh that bubbles up from her surprises me. “Oh, Landon.” Carefully, she removes her legs from my lap. Leaning over, she places her coffee cup on the coaster sitting on the coffee table where my legs are propped before scooting closer.
Eyes holding affection and understanding, she dusts her lips across mine. “You don’t realize that your dirty secrets aren’t even that dirty.”
Amusement has my mouth hitching up. “Maybe tarnished?”
Her mouth curves against mine as she lands another kiss. “A bit dusty. With cobwebs.”
I cup her nape with my free hand and guide her in for another kiss, deepening it. The instant our tongues meet, I’m like a junkie dying for another hit. When we draw apart, the sight of her looking so soft, her lips rosy and cheeks flushed, I know it’s a sight I want to see for years to come.
“So, how about that party?” I murmur. “Want to be my arm candy?”
She hesitates. “I don’t have anything suitable for that kind of party.”
I take a sip of coffee, eyeing her over the rim of the cup. “Good thing I know people. Leave that to me.”
A smile tugs at her lips, and she raises a perfect brow. “You know something about women’s clothing?”
Setting my coffee aside, I tug her onto my lap. “I know what my woman looks good in.”
“Your woman, huh?” She ducks her chin, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip, and her hair drapes her shoulders.
“Yeah. You okay with that?” I watch her carefully, gauging whether she’s about to spook on me again.
Praying like hell she won’t.
When she answers quietly with, “I’m okay with that,” a weight rolls off my shoulders.
Threading my fingers in her hair, I steer her mouth to mine and speak against her lips. “Block out Friday night on your social calendar.” I place tiny kisses along her full bottom lip. “Your man needs you.”
“Mm,” she murmurs before securing her mouth to mine in a kiss that has my heart lurching and cock nearly at full salute. “I think I need my man right now.”
Her words reverberate deep, and I take her mouth, kissing her with everything I am.
She might not be ready to say it, but I’m not worried.
“I think I need my man right now.”
Those words tell me enough.
Chapter 78
Kennedy
The following Friday night
When Landon told me he’d take care of everything, I hadn’t realized he meant it literally. But he had a beautiful red cocktail dress delivered to my apartment yesterday.
With long sleeves and a low-cut back, the dress has a skirt that flares and ends just above my knee. A wide, shimmery black belt cinches my waist, and a wrap made of the same material drapes over my shoulders.
Standing in front of the mirror, I can’t help but stare back at my reflection. I feel as though I’ve become a dichotomy of personalities. With him, I’m someone else—the woman I wish I could be all the time. But on the other side of my reflection is the real me—the murderer driven by vengeance.
Tonight is bittersweet because it’s the culmination of my mission. If all goes well, I’ll eliminate the final piece of my past.
But I’ll also be eliminating a part of Landon’s past—the part he believes is good.
It’s not his fault he fell for the act. They’re all so convincing.
Inhaling deeply, I let out my breath slowly, willing my stomach to unfurl from its knotted state. The knock that sounds on my door is right on time. I pick up my black wristlet and slide on my matching heels before tugging open the door.
And promptly forget to breathe.
“Holy shit,” I murmur.
Landon grins. “I was about to say the same thing about you.” He steps inside, eyes locked on me, skimming me from head to toe. “You’re always gorgeous, but tonight…” His eyes trail over me once again. “Tonight, you’re breathtaking.”
I step up and smooth his red pocket square as an excuse to touch him. “So are you.” It’s the truth. Landon rocks a suit ordinarily, but tonight, in his expensive designer pinstriped suit, he makes me want to unwrap him like a Christmas present.
“You keep looking at me like that, and we’ll never get out of here,” he grumbles, but his eyes crinkle at the edges affectionately.
I let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll have to wait until afterward, I suppose.” I smooth my hand down his front and freeze. My eyes snap to his. “You’re armed tonight?”
He shrugs. “It’s a habit, honestly. If I’m not wearing my service pistol, I’ve got my personal one.” With a wink, he adds, “Don’t worry, Doc. I have a concealed carry license.”
He takes my chin in his hand, gently feathering his mouth to mine, careful not to muss my lipstick. “Let’s head on out, gorgeous. Time to show off my woman.”
Chapter 79
Kennedy
The first line of security measures for the party requires Landon to provide our names to a person verifying the guest list. Now, we’re ushered to where two barrel-chested men with metal-detecting wands stand, guarding the main entrance to the Vice President’s home.
When a guard asks the woman ahead of us to open her slim but sleek ten-inch clutch, a trickle of panic inches through me. Though I have the syringe in a special compartment of my small wristlet, if they rummage through it, I’m not entirely confident they’ll believe it’s insulin.
Not only that, but Landon’s not likely to buy that excuse either.
When it’s our turn to be inspected, Landon immediately sets off the detector. Forthcoming in his explanation of his weapon, he says, “I’ve got a concealed carry.” He offers his FBI identification and concealed carry documentation to the guard while the other guard traces his detector over me.
It sounds when he moves it over my wristlet, and my stomach churns with sick anxiety.
I’m so close. I can’t bear to fail now.
Nervous dread washes over me as I open my wristlet, and my fingers tremble when I lift out my keys. Please let him believe these were the sole item that set off the detector. It’s a wonder they don’t hear my heart thundering within my chest. It’s practically deafening to my own ears.
The guard chuckles and waves me off. “Not likely you have a weapon in that little thing.”
His partner, finishing up his brief conversation with Landon, glances over and offers me a polite smile. “It’s a wonder you can fit those keys in there.” The guards wave us on with a, “Enjoy your evening,” and we step inside the home.
My heart skips a beat, and relief courses through me. When Landon reaches for my hand and links our fingers, his simple touch serves to steady me.
My heels sink into the thick green-and-beige Oriental carpet in the expansive foyer, and I survey the restored hardwood floors that gleam beneath the lights. The house is decorated to the nines for the holiday with Christmas wreaths plac
ed throughout and an enormous tree that permeates the air with its strong pine scent.
I haven’t stepped foot in this house in ages, but it feels much the same. Historic and quaint. There’s one difference, though. Now, it holds a stench that only I’m privy to because he’s here, stinking it up with his filthy, evil ways.
I fall victim to the onslaught of memories from the past. In the very beginning, I was forced to attend fancy parties like this where men leered at my body as if I were a sleek Maserati they were dying to test drive.
The moment I see him standing at the entrance of the dining room, chatting with some guests, it’s as if the world slows to a pause.
I’ve not shared the same air as him in so long. Seeing him in news clips or in photographs isn’t the same as witnessing him in person. My pulse ratchets higher, and my fingers instinctively tighten their grip on Landon’s hand.
He peers down at me. “You okay?” His tone is hushed, lined with concern.
“A little nervous.” But it’s more of an anticipatory nervousness.
This has been a long time coming.
His expression gentles, and he gives my hand a little squeeze. “I’ll be right here all night.”
I nod while apprehension and doubt seep in. Can I really carry this off? Before my second thoughts can take hold, a male voice calls out, booming amidst the din of lively conversations throughout.
“Landon.”
Landon offers a polite smile. “Sir. Thank you for inviting us.”
The Vice President stands a few inches shorter than Landon, but is impeccably dressed. Slim and fit, his silvery gray hair trimmed short and parted to the left. “Still insist on calling me sir, don’t you?” He teases Landon, flashing a smile with perfectly white teeth. The two men shake hands before they turn to me.
