by Serena Grey
As soon as my butt touches the surface of the desk, his tongue plunges into my mouth, tasting and plundering, while his hands cups my breasts through my blouse. I reach for him, my hand moving from the hard slab of his stomach to the perfection of his chest. Loosening his silk tie, I toss it away and start to unbutton his shirt, but he stops me, holding both my hands to my sides, while he bends his head to my breast, grazing my aching nipple with his teeth.
My skin is so sensitive it feels as if it’s on fire. The throbbing between my legs is making it impossible for me to think. I groan, freeing my hands from his so I can thread my fingers in his silky hair. I want more than just this teasing. I want him inside me, as soon as possible.
I arch my back, pressing my breast closer to his face. He groans, coming back up to cover my mouth with his, his tongue mating with mine even as his hands move down to my hips to push my skirt up around my waist, exposing me from waist down.
He strokes warm fingers over the damp lace of my panties, finding my pulsing clit, and rubbing it through the lace. I tear my mouth from his, unable to hold back a small cry of pleasure.
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” His voice is rough, his eyes blazing with desire.
“Yes,” I whisper helplessly, rubbing my hips against his fingers.
He smiles, and pushes my panties aside, giving his fingers access to stroke me. I’m already so wet, they slide easily through my folds, slipping inside to tease me with the promise of what will come later.
I brace my hands on the desk and spread my legs for him, inviting him deeper, but he pulls his fingers away, and then drops to his knees in front of me.
He’s still holding my panties aside, giving him access to lick every inch of me. I cry out at the warm touch of his tongue, gripping the edge of the desk tightly. He pulls back, then hooks his fingers into the lace of my panties. In the next moment I hear a ripping sound, then his lips touch me again, followed by his tongue, the sweet velvety warmth sending me straight to heaven.
“Landon,” his name comes out of my lips in a long moan. His tongue flicks over my clit, then travels down to the quivering entrance of my body, teasing me and making me want more. “Oh God, Landon.”
He responds by sliding two fingers inside me, teasing my pulsing walls and making my body clench and shudder. His tongue continues to tease my clit, bringing me to the brink of orgasm time and time again until I’m crazy with the desire to have him inside me.
I rock my hips against his mouth, begging him with my movements to give me more. He pauses long enough to look up and grin at the desperation on my face, before he starts to torture me again.
“Landon,” I beg… “I can’t…”
He ignores me, sucking on my clit as he crooks his fingers, finding the tiny mass of nerves along my walls and stroking it masterfully. My body tightens, spasming uncontrollably as I cry out, losing myself in a hot pulsing orgasm.
Almost immediately, he’s on his feet, my face in his hands. “I love the way you taste, Rachel,” he whispers, before sucking on my bottom lip. “I want to lick every inch of you. Tell me you’ll come with me.”
My eyes are still dilated, almost unable to focus. Somewhere deep down, I remember that I shouldn’t be doing this.
When I pause, he kisses me again, his tongue delving into my mouth. His fingers find my nipples, swollen and aching in the confines of my clothes. With an impatient sound, he rips the front of my blouse open and pulls down my bra, exposing my aching breasts. His mouth covers one nipple and I almost weep with pleasure. I hear him undoing his belt, then the sound of his zipper, and when he releases my lips again, I look down at the perfect length of him, aching to have him inside me.
He reaches for something inside his desk, and the next moment I hear the sound of foil tearing. He’d known that this would happen, I think through my aroused brain. He’d known and prepared for it. Even when I’d been lying to myself. Telling myself that I wouldn’t sleep with him.
I watch him put on the condom, the need and excitement stronger than my thoughts.
“I want to fuck you without one of these,” he says, softly. “Will you let me, once I prove that I’m clean?”
I nod, desperate with need. Right now, I just want him inside me.
He positions himself at the quivering entrance to my body. “Tell me you’ll come with me to San Francisco,” he whispers again, his voice rough.
I roll my hips, hungry for him. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”
His hands find my waist, and he moves me towards him at the same moment that he pushes forward, sliding slowly inside me and filling me completely.
“Yes!” I cry out, as the first immediate pulse of my orgasm rolls through me. My legs weaken, and I moan helplessly, coming apart at the seams. He grips my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the desk as he pulls out, almost to the tip, then plunges into me again. He lowers his head to my breasts again and I groan, my body clenching almost unbearably around the sweet, hard strokes of his cock.
I brace my hands on his shoulder, feeling the tense, bunched up muscles even through his shirt. He lifts his head to look at me, and his eyes are focused on me, the intensity almost blinding. His expression of clear and utter arousal feeds the unbearable heat between my legs. He starts to move faster, his pupils dilating as he drives mindlessly towards orgasm. Heat fills my body as another climax builds, the whole world turning to nothing but the sure strokes of pleasure between my legs. My head rolls back and I cry out as my body stiffens, my orgasm seizing me even as Landon plunges wildly into me, all control gone as he rides the waves of my climax to his own. He comes with a loud groan, his whole body shuddering with his release.
My heart is racing. I take deep gulps of air. The air in the office is cool, but we’re both sweating. Landon expels a deep breath and slowly pulls out of me, making my body shudder as residual tremors shoot through me. My face is buried in his neck, and as I catch my breath, I inhale the scent of his spicy cologne, hot sex, and a scent that that’s just him. I have to restrain myself from placing kisses all over his face. I close my eyes, trying to weigh the languid satisfaction I feel against the mortification of the knowledge that I just slept with him, even though I told him I wasn’t going to. Even though I know I shouldn’t have.
He starts to adjust my skirt, pulling it down and smoothing it. My panties are ripped and unsalvageable and he just takes them off me and puts them away in his pocket. He adjusts my bra and tries to do the same with my blouse, but with two buttons missing there’s nothing even he can do. There’s no way I can go outside looking like this.
He leaves me on the desk and wraps up the condom in a tissue before tossing it in the trash. By the time he turns back to me, he’s already fixing his clothes, with no sign that he just fucked me senseless on his desk. He looks as immaculate as he always does, and I look like a wreck.
He comes back to the desk and takes my arms, gently pulling me to my feet. “Come on,” he says, “Let’s get you decent.”
“Unless you have a blouse exactly like mine somewhere in this office, I don’t see how you can manage that.”
His fingers touch the silk of the blouse. Then he smiles and takes my hand. “I doubt a blouse like that would look as good on me as it did on you,” he says before pressing a button on his desk.
“Mr. Court?” Tony’s voice flows into the room through a set of speakers I can’t see.
“I’m going out,” Landon says curtly. “Reschedule the Clifton meeting.”
He presses the button to end the conversation without waiting for a reply, and starts to lead me towards a door I hadn’t noticed before. It opens to a small but airy room with a set of seats and large windows that share the same view as his office. A stairway leads from the room to an upper floor.
“Don’t tell me you have an apartment here as well,” I say, following him up the stairs.
He frowns. “I do,”
“How many apartments do you have?” I ask, curious.
<
br /> “A few.” He’s smiling. “The apartment at the hotel belongs to my family, I spent some of my childhood there. This is where I mostly live these days, especially when I’m busy with work.”
The apartment is smaller than the one at the Swanson Court, but it’s still a large apartment. It’s evidently a bachelor pad. Simply but tastefully furnished, and with a few personal touches, although fewer than what I saw in the Swanson Court apartment.
“This is convenient,” I comment, “Every workaholic’s dream. Why leave work when you can live at work?”
“One more dig at me, and I’m going to have to fuck you again, just to keep your mouth otherwise occupied.” His expression is bland, as if he’s only commenting on the weather, but stupidly, my body responds by remembering the pleasure of a few moments ago and wishing for more. “Make yourself comfortable,” he offers, gesturing towards the living room. “There’re drinks in the fridge, over there,” he points in the direction of the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
He leaves me and disappears inside the apartment. I walk over to the kitchen. It looks modern, if underutilized. Retrieving a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge, I uncap it and take a long drink. I’m twisting back the cap when Landon returns with a deep green sweater.
“You can wear this,” he offers, handing me the sweater.
I take it from him. The material is soft and smooth to the touch. I remove my blouse and shrug it on. It’s a little big, but it smells like him, and feels heavenly against my skin.
Landon folds up my blouse and hands it to me. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me.”
I scoff. “Somehow I doubt that.”
“I love it when you pay me compliments,” he says with a heartbreakingly beautiful grin.
“I was only making an observation.”
He shrugs. “I love your complimentary observations.”
I chuckle despite myself. “So what now?”
He takes a strand of my hair and curls it around his finger. “Now that there’s no question of how good we are together, I hope you’ll finally agree to spend more time with me.”
I look up at his face. “You mean sex.”
“Lots of it.”
I shake my head. “Actually, I meant, what happens right now.”
He chuckles and releases the tendril of hair, letting it fall back to my face. “Now, I take you home.”
There’s a private elevator from the apartment to the garage on the ground floor. He left his jacket and tie, behind in his office. In just his tailored shirt and pants, he looks more casual, but still sexy as hell.
The car he leads me to is a sleek silver jaguar convertible, low to the ground, with leather bucket seats and a softly purring engine.
He keeps the top up, sliding on a pair of dark glasses as he navigates the car out of the garage. Even driving, he’s powerful, controlled, his fingers light on the steering wheel as he moves through the late afternoon traffic.
In front of my apartment building, he turns to me. “About San Francisco,” he says. “I want us to go together. I want you to stay with me, spend the whole period with me when you’re not working. If that’s not what you want, you don’t have to do it because of what happened today.”
I nod, knowing that I want that trip with him. I want it so much it hurts. “What happens after it’s over? When we come back?”
He taps a finger on the steering wheel, making me wonder what he’s thinking. “What do you want to happen?”
My mind goes to Jack, and all the feelings, hard to recall, but still there, unresolved. “I don’t want a relationship,” I tell Landon. “This is just sex and I don’t want to pretend that it’s anything more.”
He doesn’t reply, so I continue.
“I also want exclusivity, for as long as it lasts.”
“Not a problem,” he says with a shrug.
How long would that be exactly, I wonder. How long till he gets whatever desire he has for me out of his system and moves on. I don’t want to be rejected again. I won’t be able to take it. I swallow.
“And it lasts only as long as we’re in San Francisco,” I add quickly, before I change my mind.
“A week?” The words are accompanied by a frown. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes,” I reply
He nods slowly. “All right.” He looks down at his sweater hanging off my shoulder, and then glances at his watch. “Why don’t you go up and change, I’ll take you back to the office.”
I glance at the time on the dashboard. It’s almost five. “I’m done for the day.”
He gives me a suggestive look. “So are you going to invite me up?”
I smirk. “Don’t push your luck. I don’t even like you yet.”
“But you will,” his voice is confident. I climb out of the car, already regretting not inviting him up, but I just want to hold a little back, at least for now. “Tony will let you know the travel details,” he says, starting the engine. “I will see you.”
With that, he’s gone, the car engine purring softly as he drives away, leaving me wondering what on earth I’ve gotten myself into.
“I HAVE no idea what I’m doing,” I tell Laurie over the phone the next day. She’s working late, I, on the other hand, am packing for my trip. After exchanging notes from our meeting and discussing a little more about the article, Tony Gillies informed me that I would be leaving for San Francisco with Landon in the evening.
“Don’t overthink it,” Laurie replies. “Personally, I think it’s exciting. You’ll have your affair and get to write your article at the same time.”
“Affair,” I grimace. “That’s such an old fashioned word.”
“Just like ‘lover.’” I hear her snicker. “You’re going to San Francisco with your lover,” she says in her best Downton Abbey accent.
“All my dreams are coming true,” I say sarcastically.
“Don’t be so negative. You know you’re creaming your panties at the thought of being with him for a whole week.” She ignores my protest. “Just make sure you pack some good lingerie and condoms. You don’t want to be caught unprepared.”
I look at the box on my bed. It arrived at the same time I got home from the office. It contains a blouse, very like the one Landon destroyed yesterday, only with a label that makes it much more expensive than my regular wardrobe, as well as two sets of matching lingerie to replace the panties he ripped. “Laurie,” I say patiently, “It’s still first and foremost, a work trip.”
“Yeah, tell yourself that.” Laurie scoffs, “Just like it was a work thing when you ended up having sex in his office.”
“Jeez, Laurie! I knew I should never have told you about that.”
“Like you could keep it to yourself.” I can almost hear the smirk in her voice.
Later, in the luxurious interior of the car Landon’s office sends for me, my mind goes to the items of lingerie in my suitcase and I blush in the darkness. Luckily, aside from the driver, the same guy who took me home after my night at the Insomnia Lounge, and who hasn’t said anything after introducing himself as Joe, I’m alone in the car.
At the airport, Joe drives straight to the hangar where a uniformed steward retrieves my suitcase from the trunk and leads me to a sleek aircraft waiting on the runway. Following the steward, I climb into the plane. A blond stewardess with a bouncy ponytail welcomes me with a smile and points me in the direction of the main cabin.
I step inside, and pause at the entrance. It is grand, no argument about that. The décor is muted, yet luxurious and comfortable, with leather seats and low tables. On one of the seats, a leather sofa with space for two, Landon is sitting with one ankle placed jauntily on the knee of his other leg while he flicks a finger across the screen of a tablet. His striped shirt is open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the light dusting of golden hairs on his arms.
I swallow, once again unable to process how good looking he is. I haven’t
seen or spoken to him since he left me outside my apartment yesterday, but just looking at him, my body stirs with lust. I want this man, again and again, and I’m suddenly aware that a week will not be enough.
Just as if he can hear my thoughts, he looks up at me and smiles.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” I reply, stepping into the cabin.
“Come sit.” He pats the seat beside him. “We should be leaving in a few minutes, so buckle up.”
I do as he says. Moments later, the stewardess comes to warn us to prepare for takeoff, then disappears as quietly as she appeared. The plane starts to move, the engines whirling softly. The takeoff is smooth and in almost no time we’re cruising.
Landon sits back on his chair and closes his eyes. I noticed that he looked a little tired before, and I wonder if he has fallen asleep. His hair is tousled, and his perfect face oddly relaxed, making me want to reach out and stroke it. The thought is so ridiculous, I look away and chuckle silently.
“What’s funny?”
His voice startles me. I turn back to him. Unlike a few seconds ago, he looks awake and alert.
“Nothing.”
He gives me a skeptical look, then reaches for his tablet again. His movements are strong and graceful, and I wonder if it’s possible to be around him without finding reasons to lust after him anytime he moves or says something.
“I thought Tony would be here,” I mention, wondering where his efficient assistant is as I retrieve my MacBook from my bag. I know that the photographers, a husband and wife team with a photography firm called Litte and Parker have been in San Francisco documenting the stages of the refurbishment for weeks.
“Tony will arrive tomorrow,” Landon replies, without looking up from whatever he’s reading on the tablet.
I start to go over my notes on the article. I had a meeting with Mark Willis earlier in the day to discuss the outline, and now I type in new ideas in addition to the ones I’ve already put down. I’ve been doing my research and learning more about the history of the hotel, from the high profile people who’ve stayed there over the years, including presidents and movie stars, to the mismanagement by the previous owner, a career playboy called Evans Sinclair. I’ve read about the coup in which the members of the board, all of whom were members of the extended Sinclair family, forced him to agree to sell the hotel to Landon.
