by Serena Grey
For some reason, my heart is pounding, but I stay silent as he comes to stand behind me. My blood is rushing hotly through my veins, my whole body eager and anticipating. As if from a distance, I hear the noise as he pulls my chair out of his way.
My whole back feels heated, as if I’m being seared by being so close to him. I stiffen as he presses a hand flat against my stomach, pulling me back to mold my body against his.
I gasp at the contact, feeling his arousal, hard and thick against my back. He leans forward, his breath teasing my ear and neck. “Does this feel like I don’t want to fuck you?”
“No.” My voice is a whisper.
Still holding me against his rock hard body, he uses his other hand to undo the buttons of my top, one by one, until it’s hanging open, along with my jacket. He pulls it out of the waistband of my pants and then reaches up to undo the clasp of my bra.
“I want you so much it fucking hurts,” he whispers at my ear, as his hand finds my breasts under the loose bra. He pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and I groan, loud.
“I can hardly keep my mind on anything else,” he continues. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”
I know what he means. I feel as if my body has only just been awakened. “But last night…” I manage to ask through the haze of my arousal. “Why...?”
“Why did I stay away? Why did I try to give you a chance to change your mind? I have no fucking idea. I must have been crazy.” The hand on my stomach slides down to my pants, undoing the clasp with one sure flick of his fingers. Then those same fingers are sliding into my panties, over the wet slickness between my legs.
My hips buck, rubbing against his fingers. Releasing my breast, he uses that hand to pull down my pants, then abandons his ministrations between my thighs so he can push my panties down over my hips. Then his fingers find me again, stroking the swollen mass of aroused nerves that my clit has become, while from behind, he inserts two fingers inside my wet pulsing core.
“Oh God!” I cry out as he starts to fuck me with his fingers, fast, giving no room for anything else but the sensation of his touch and the maddening sensation of him teasing my clit. I’m going mad, I think, as pleasure overtakes me, or else I’m dying. I cry out, loudly, past the point of caring who hears, as my hips buck uncontrollably.
“Landon!” I scream his name, helpless against the coming orgasm, my brain dying with each stroke of his fingers. “Oh fuck! Landon!”
“Let it go,” he whispers against my ear, rubbing harder against my clit, the same moment he presses his fingers against the bundle of nerves inside me. I let out a harsh scream and collapse forward on the table, spent, as my body trembles with the aftermath of my orgasm.
My body is slick with sweat, making strands of my hair stick to my face and neck. I try to catch my breath, almost impossible as Landon continues to stroke my clit.
He reaches between us to loosen the waistband of his pants, and soon I can feel his cock, warm and hard against my butt. I rub myself against him, eliciting a low growl from him.
“Are you on the pill?”
I nod, impatient to feel him inside me. “Yes,”
“I’m clean Rachel, and I want to fuck you like this, with my skin against yours. I want to feel your heat. I want to come inside you.” The finger on my clit moves lower, to press against the wet opening to my body.
“Please,” I hear myself beg, “Please, now.”
Immediately, I feel the warm crown of his cock pushing against me, and in the next moment he plunges deep inside me, filling me so completely, I let out a sob of pure, undiluted pleasure.
He starts to move, his muscles bunching as he goes deeper with each successive thrust. He pulls me up to press my body against his, his hands at my breast and my stomach. I’m helpless against the pleasure of his thrusts, his grunts of pure animalistic pleasure making me even more aroused.
Heat spreads from between my legs, taking over my entire body and drowning me with pleasure. I surrender to the waves of another orgasm just as Landon’s body tightens, his muscles stiffening as he thrusts deep inside me, burying himself to the hilt, as he groans, coming inside me.
He collapses onto the chair behind us, taking me with him. He’s still inside me, still hard, even though he just came. He starts to stroke my shoulders, his hands moving over my skin in a slow caress. By the time he gets to my breasts, I’m already moving my hips, riding his still hard cock. He squeezes my breasts, groaning softly as I move up and down his length.
“You’re so hot,” he whispers.
“You’re so hard,” I reply breathlessly.
He sighs and drops his hands to my waist, gripping me on both sides and taking control of my movements. Unbelievable pleasure spreads through me, fed by the soft rocking of his hips, the strength with which he moves me up and down, and the low grunts from his lips.
We come at the same time, his cock rocking into me as my body tightens and explodes. He groans as he comes, hot, inside me, as my own pulsing body squeezes everything out of him.
Afterward, I end up sitting on his lap, his arm around me. I’m exhausted, about to fall asleep. “You said something about lunch,” I remind him.
“Yes,” I feel the deep rumble in his chest as he chuckles.
“I’m sleepy, but I’m also unbelievably hungry.”
His chuckle turns into a wry laugh. “Me too, for some reason.”
With his hands around my waist, he lifts me off his lap. Still sitting, he retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeds to wipe between my legs. He folds the hanky and then wipes himself before folding it again and putting it in his pocket.
I wrinkle my nose. “You’re not going to keep that as some sort of weird memento, are you?”
He grins, “I don’t need a memento when I have you,” he replies, pulling up my pants and redoing the clasp, while I button up my blouse. Then he gets up and adjusts his own clothes, going back to his usual, impeccable appearance almost immediately.
You only have me for a week, I want to remind him, already mourning the future end of our temporary arrangement. But I keep silent, helping him pack up my laptop so we can go to lunch. It’s when I pick my phone off the desk, right before we leave, that I see the missed calls, five of them, all from Jack.
“I CAN’T believe that you were taking such a huge trip and you only left a message!” my mom complains, and you know I hardly check my messages. “I’m sure you did it on purpose so you wouldn’t have to hear me complain about you missing Sunday lunch.”
I’m back at the Rosemont Royal after lunch with Landon, and while he’s gone back to the Gold Dust Hotel for another round of meetings or whatever, I have the rest of the afternoon to work on my article in the comfort of the suite. After a quick shower, I’d just settled at the desk in my room when my mother called. “It’s not a huge trip mom, and I’m sorry, but it was kind of sudden.” She’s right about the reason I only left a message, but I don’t tell her that.
My mom sighs. “At least it’s not a promotional article this time.”
“It’s not.” My mom has never hidden the fact that she doesn’t think much of the kind of articles I write. She’s made a career out of always been true to her art. While she thought I would have made a great editor at the Gilt Review, which she reads religiously, she doesn’t approve of the fact that I’ve spent two years ‘hacking’ out articles that are a little more than advert copy.
“Okay.” She pauses. “Laurie says you’re there with a man, some hotel owner.”
“Laurie talks too much,” I reply. “I’m really going to kill her someday for telling you everything I do.”
My mom ignores me as usual. “She was trying to assure me that you weren’t moping over Jack whatsisname. So is there a man?”
“Not in the way Laurie made it sound, mom. It’s really just work.”
“If you say so,” she replies, sounding unconvinced. “Your father says hi.”
“Hi dad,” I say
loudly.
“Oh, he can’t hear you. He’s on his rowing machine, working on those biceps,” I hear my father’s indistinct words, and then her breathy giggle. “Okay, bye dear,” she says. “Talk later.”
I put down the phone and start to work, expanding the outline for the article. I manage to shut everything else out of my mind, and get a few hours of work done before my phone rings again.
At the sight of the caller’s name on the screen, I almost decide to ignore it, the same way I’d pushed his earlier calls out of my mind. What could Jack want from me? Why was he calling?
Picking up the phone, I swipe my finger across the screen as I raise it to my ear.
“Hello Jack.”
“Rachel,” he sounds relieved. “I’m so glad you answered.”
“Yeah… I’m sorry about your calls earlier. I was busy and I didn’t feel the phone vibrate.”
“That’s a relief. I assumed you didn’t want to talk to me.” There’s a short pause. “I learned you’re in San Francisco on an assignment. How’s that going?”
“Great.”
“Okay,” I hear him sigh. “Rachel, the thing is, I’m a little disappointed that we didn’t get to talk like we planned.”
“You wanted to talk,” I point out. “I’m not very sure what we have to talk about.”
“I miss you,” he says simply. “Isn’t that enough to talk about?”
“You keep saying you miss me. What exactly do you want? For me to tag along so you can amuse yourself with me when your fiancée isn’t available?”
“About that,” he says, “I’m going to be in Argentina for about a month starting from next week.” He pauses. “Claudia and I decided to take a break, see how things go.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “What? That doesn’t even make any sense.”
He is quiet. “I thought you would be glad.”
“I’m indifferent.”
I hear him take a breath. “Rachel, I’m not saying this because I no longer have a fiancée, but I know I’ve taken you for granted in the past. I’ve had time to think about all that, and I’m sorry.”
He’s never apologized to me before, and it takes me by surprise. My anger towards him dissipates, and I don’t know what to say.
He continues. “I shouldn’t have sprung the engagement thing on you like that. You’re my closest friend, and we have a history. So… I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that… whatever it’s worth.”
Whatever it’s worth. I sigh. The thing with Jack is that he’s so good at straddling that line between a close friend and a romantic interest, that I’m never entirely sure if I’m finally being pursued, or if I’m still stuck in the friend zone. “I’m sorry about your engagement,” I say softly.
“I’ll get over it,” he replies carelessly.
“I’m sure.”
“I heard that you were working with Landon Court,” He says after a moment.
“I’m writing about his new hotel.”
“Yes. I read somewhere about him buying it out from right under Evan’s Sinclair’s feet. Hotel had been in the same family for generations. But then, Court has always been very ruthless in business. He’s also known for being heartless with women when he’s done with them. Being around him so much, don’t fall in love with him.”
I almost laugh. “Someone should have told me that when I met you.”
“That’s not fair.”
I sigh. “It’s nice that you called Jack.”
He laughs. “That sounds like a dismissal.”
“I’m working.”
“Okay, but just so you know. I’m not giving up on you. You’re still my favorite person in the world.”
It’s an old joke we share. He calls me his favorite person, and I do the same. This time, I keep silent.
I hear him sigh. “Bye Rachel.”
I put the phone back on the desk, deep in thought. It makes no sense for Jack to warn me about falling in love with Landon. With Landon, I know where I stand. A week, and then I’ll never have to see him again. There’s no chance of getting hurt. In a few days, I’ll be back home and he’ll just be a memory of great sex.
As if he knows that I’m thinking about him, Landon’s name lights up on my screen. I reach for the phone, my body surging with excitement.
“What are you doing?” he asks without preamble.
That voice. It flows over me like velvet. “Working. You?”
“Thinking about you.”
His words cause a fluttering in my stomach. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”
“I called a recess.”
“Lucky you.” I’m smiling. I get up and go over to sit at the side of my bed. “When will you be back?”
“In about two-three hours. Why? You missing me?”
“In a way,” I laugh. “I’d rather you were here making the most of the time we have. You did promise to make me come until I beg you to stop.”
I hear him groan. “Rachel, you’re going to drive me crazy.” His voice drops to a low murmur. “I wish I was there right now, my tongue in your pussy. You wouldn’t be laughing.”
My breath is suddenly shallow. “No I wouldn’t.”
“I would suck you until you’re breathless and coming against my tongue.” I hear him breathe. “Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“You sound aroused,” he says softly. “Tell me where you are.”
“In my room. Sitting on my bed.”
“What are you wearing?”
“A camisole dress.”
“Is it short?”
“Yes. Thigh length.”
“Pull it up to your waist,” he orders, I obey, lifting my hips as I pull the dress up with one hand. “What are you wearing underneath?”
“A white bra and thong.”
He groans. “Pull down the dress and the bra. I want your beautiful breasts spilling out. They’re beautiful. Have I told you that, full and firm, with nipples I want to keep licking. Touch your nipples, baby.”
I do as he says, moaning as pleasure shoots through me.
“Now I need you to pull that white thong to the side and touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are.”
I do as he says, wondering at how easily I comply. How natural it feels even though I’ve never done this before. “I’m soaked,” I tell him. My voice is a thin, aroused whisper. I rub my fingers over my clit, feeling my body tighten, already so close to orgasm. “I’m so wet Landon.”
“Wet for me, Rachel. My cock is so hard, I want to put it in your mouth. Let you suck it.”
“Yes,” I moan, my fingers working my clit. I can almost feel him pumping into my mouth. “I want you in my mouth.”
“And also in your hot pussy, fucking you until you can’t take any more.”
“Oh God!” I moan as the image sends me over the edge. My legs stiffen, my body throbbing as pleasure rolls over me. I fall back on the bed, my body trembling uncontrollably.
I sigh as my heart slows, my body still feeling the little aftershocks of my climax.
“I have to get back to my meeting,” Landon says, as if he hasn’t just given me an intense orgasm through the phone. “Let’s go out to dinner, tonight.”
I breathe slowly, my body still sluggish. “I’d like that.”
“Be ready at seven,” he says, “I’ll come pick you.”
I only have a few hours, so I quickly finish up my additions to the article and email them to Mark for feedback.
My few clothes have all been neatly unpacked in the dressing room closet. I select a deep-blue wrap-dress I brought with me, silently thanking the stars for my mom, who taught me to always pack evening wear.
By the time I emerge from my room at seven, I’m fully dressed, made up, with my hair styled in the low chignon that’s the only one I can manage without Laurie’s help. Landon is already waiting. He has changed out of the clothes he was wearing earlier and is now dressed in a dark blue evening jacket and anot
her one of his crisp, tailored shirts. His hair is slicked back, shining like burnished gold. He looks unbelievably hot. I just want to keep looking at him.
“You look amazing,” he says with a smile as he takes my hand, dropping a kiss on my right cheek.
If I look amazing, then there are no words to describe how he looks. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I reply, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne, mixed with the yummy smell of his body wash and shampoo.
He grins. “I aim to please.”
“And you never miss.” I quip.
His eyes hold mine. “Not if I can help it.”
God! I want him again, even now, when we’re on our way out. I wish he would change his mind about going out for dinner.
Taking a deep breath to calm my heated body, I follow him to the elevator. Outside, it’s very cool and there’s a light fog over the city. Luckily, my dress came with a matching blue shawl. As we wait for the car, Landon takes it from me and wraps it around my shoulders, his fingers trailing along my arms and making me tremble.
On the ride to the restaurant, we’re both quiet. His mind seems far away as he looks straight ahead. I find myself thinking again how good looking he is. He has the kind of looks women dream about. Combined with his potent sexual magnetism, he’s the stuff fantasies are made of. Right now though, he looks almost unapproachable. This is not the first time I’ve seen him retreat behind that wall. Is he like this with the other women he’s dated? Very physical in one moment, then distant in the next?
Or is it just me?
It shouldn’t affect me. I shouldn’t mind if we have no relationship beyond sex. It’s what I want.
It’s what I want.
When the car stops, he reaches over and strokes a hand over mine, making me look up to see him smiling at me. I feel a pull in my stomach, equal parts desire, longing, and another ache I can’t even identify.
He leans across the seat and drops a soft kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, I follow him, wanting another. He obliges me, stroking his tongue along my lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. Hot need shoots through me and I moan.
He releases my lips with a sigh. “I can’t imagine why I thought I could make it through the evening without wanting to tear off your clothes,” he says, his voice low.
