by Donn, KL
Luck is on my side as I walk up to the stop and the bus is just pulling up. Boarding hurriedly, the irony of me running from a man I’m attracted to is not lost on me. I usually run because I’m being bullied, not kissed senseless.
Sitting in the back, away from everyone else, I gaze out the window to see Landon searching frantically for me. A pang of guilt hits my chest, and I push it away for my own sanity.
Sadness threatens to overwhelm me as I think of all the what ifs. Maybe he truly is interested in me. The problem is, how can I have anything to do with him when his sister has been my biggest tormentor my entire life? Once Ashley fills his head full of lies, it’s doubtful he’ll want to pursue me further. It’s better this way.
He can’t break my heart if I push him away first.
Right?
Chapter 2
Landon
“She ran. I can’t believe she fucking ran from me.” My words are grumbled as I watch her bus pull away from the curb. Pissed off and confused, I know I can’t linger because I have a meeting to get to, as much as I want to wait for Cecilia to show up again. Her little disappearing act won’t last long; it’ll just have to wait. I’ll find my goddess.
Jogging back to the parking lot on the other side of campus, I ignore the looks from students as I climb into my Audi RS 7, and she purrs to life. Speeding out of the parking lot, I have to put Cecilia to the back of my mind as I rehearse the speech I have planned for the board of trustees to convince them that the rec center I want to have built downtown is a good idea. Even though Powers Enterprise will be eating the cost.
I have a structure in mind that I think would be perfect for this project, but it’s not exactly cost-effective, and that’s why they keep stalling. With building codes, electrical and plumbing needing to be updated, the building will be worth it. The space itself is huge. Once some walls are knocked down, there will be room for a gym, arcade, lockers, and a homework room for the kids. I have high hopes for this project, and honestly, I’m not sure much will stop me from going forward with it.
The traffic into the Powers Enterprise Complex in the downtown core is shockingly light as I pass through every green light without fail, making me just on time to my meeting. Striding into the building I built from the ground up always gives me a sense of satisfaction. After graduating from UC Berkley’s business school at the top of my class with honors, I left with a degree leaving me wide open to any possibility.
I worked my way through school in construction and fell in love with the trade. It only felt natural to enter the fray with Powers Construction. Which quickly turned into Powers Financial, and a year ago, my mother opened Powers Interior Design.
Our main offices are all located in a large six-floor building. The first is occupied by reception and security, a couple of small locally owned coffee shops and cafes, and a few meeting rooms. The second floor is the interior design offices for work and client meetings. The third is for accounting with as many as a dozen offices. The fourth floor is an open concept plan where the construction side of things is handled, with the exception of two closed-in offices.
The fifth contains a small gym and a few cozy apartments for out-of-town clients or even employees when they work late and need somewhere quick to lay their heads.
The top floor is mine. A penthouse suite with my own gym and swimming pool. It keeps me close to where I’m needed most while giving me a bit of privacy.
When I bought the building six years ago, it had been a shell of what it is now. As I stop to check in with security and greet the formal receptionist Allie—asking about her kids and husband—I gaze around as I step into the hallway leading to the largest conference room on the main floor. Pride settles into my chest at what I’ve accomplished in the few short years I’ve been in the workforce. The only thing that could make my life complete is the perfect woman.
Cecilia.
She doesn’t leave my mind. She’s in my blood, nestling her way onto my heart. I should be resisting her because she clearly wants nothing to do with me. Her body sure does, though.
She blossomed under my kisses; there was no resistance. Which is likely why I’m so ready to claim her. I’m going to own Cecilia. Possess her in ways she’s never imagined. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Picking up the pace to my meeting, I’m ready to get this over with, so I can go get my girl. “Morning everyone,” I greet the eight board members as my assistant hands out the pamphlets we created yesterday to keep everyone on track. “We’re going to make this quick. All your questions will be answered in those brochures from Amelia. I’ve kept it all to the point and as simple as possible.” I look each of them in the eye as I speak. “I want to make one thing clear here, our kids are struggling. Whether it be financially, responsibly, physically, or emotionally, we need to do something. This is going to be it. I will be moving forward with this project. Giving you the option to join me or walk away is only a formality.”
John, our head of accounting, speaks up. “Looks like you have everything in order.” He smirks, knowing how hard I’ve busted my ass to make sure we have everything in the clear. Leaving no room for argument.
“All of these sponsors are on board already?” Shirley, one of our lawyers, asks.
“They are. I secured them before presenting it to you guys.”
“Then I guess we’re ready to roll.” John grins, gazing around the table.
“Perfect. I’ll have Kale’s team put together some plans and get back to you all with a date for when we begin.” I’m walking out before I’m even done talking and shocked faces follow me.
Pulling out my phone, I know exactly who to contact to get the information I need about Cecilia.
Lan: Who is she?
Ash: Who is she, who?
Lan: Don’t play with me. Cecilia.
Ash: Oh, you mean Mark me crazy? Lol
Lan: Don’t be so bitchy Ash
Ash: Whatevs. You don’t want her crazy ass. Stay away Lan.
Lan: LAST NAME!
Ash: … Ugh, fine. Marks. You’ll regret this.
It takes a lot for Ashley to frustrate me this much, but right now, she’s pushed all of my buttons. Her selfish and egotistical attitude is going to land her in a world of trouble one day.
With no time to worry about the brat, I push her to the back of my mind and focus on the girl who’s dominating all my thoughts.
Cecilia Marks.
I’m coming for you, sweets.
Chapter 3
Cecilia
Steam clouds the room as a warm spray of water glides across my body. For once, I’m able to enjoy the heat because my roommate has spent the night with her boyfriend, and I don’t have to settle for the lukewarm temperatures that are always left over. Just as my muscles are beginning to loosen, I hear a pounding at the door, and I’m tense all over again.
With the hopes that whoever it is will go away, I close my eyes and try to relax. When the pounding recommences, harder than before, I know I have no choice but to answer. Grumbling as I grab a towel, I intend to get dressed first, but the banging continues. “I’m coming!” I scream.
Scrambling to the door in nothing but the tiny towel I was drying off with, I neglect to look through the peephole and fling the door open. “What the frick is wro–,” I stutter as I see him. Landon freaking Powers stands on the other side, handsome as can be.
Speechless, I freeze and stare at him. Jaw hanging to the floor, hair dripping wet and clinging to my skin, I’m helpless to do more. His eyes, his intense dark green, hypnotic, and passionate eyes roam over my mostly nude body in the sweetest caress I’ve ever known.
A low moan breaks me from my trance. Crap, was that me or him? “Why are you here?” I demand in a snarkier tone than I mean to.
“Can I come in?” he asks instead of answering me, and I’m shaking my head no before he’s done speaking. I’m not dumb. Just because I know who he is, doesn’t mean I trust him. “Look, sweets, I don’t want to
have to kill some pimply-faced fucker for seeing you wet and in nothing but a towel, so please, have mercy and let me in, will ya? Save me the jail time.” He pleads a pretty good case after what I saw from him today. The seriousness in his gaze convinces me he’ll do it.
Just as a neighbor’s door opens, Landon begins to turn around, a growl already vibrating in his chest as someone steps out of their apartment. Gripping his arms, I pull him inside and slam the door shut behind us.
“What are you doing here?” I breathe, turning around to face him. The lust in his stare and the breeze on my back have embarrassment running up my neck and cheeks. Landon steps forward, trapping me against the wall beside the front door as he leans into me.
Burying his face in my neck, I hear him inhale deeply and close my eyes to savor the moment. Had I been wearing panties, they’d have melted from the benign action and ignited as his moan vibrates through my body.
* * *
Landon
Sin. Cecilia radiates sin incarnate, and I can’t get enough. Every lusty thought I’ve ever had is now centered around the way she smells. It’s like the wildest of flowers, the sweetest of candies, the most forbidden fruit all mixed into one. A scent I’m quickly becoming addicted to and don’t want to live without.
“Cecilia…” I moan into her throat as I lay kisses along the column. Nipping gently behind her ear, she melts into my embrace, and I know I’m done. Gripping behind her thighs, I hoist her into my arms and carry her to the tiny couch in her living room, laying her down softly. Pulling back only enough to remove the towel hiding her hidden treasures.
A quick glimpse of her revealed body showcases more scars, but to me, she’s stunning. There’s nothing on Earth more beautiful than Cecilia Marks. Her curves carry on for miles, with long legs meant to cradle me to her core. Hips intended to beckon me. I lick my lips in anticipation of tasting her sweetness.
Lying on top of her while my clothes are still on is the worst form of torture but in the most delicious way. Locking our eyes together, I grab hold of both her wrists, slowly dragging them above her head. I watch for any signs of distress in her expressive chocolate stare, but they’re clouded with lust and a touch of uncertainty.
“Relax, sweets, I only want to see, maybe have a taste.” I wink when she gasps. Lowering my head to her collarbone, I place feather soft kisses along her flesh. She’s smooth as silk and warm as butter on a hot day. There’s something incredibly sexy about her collarbone that pulls me in like bees to a flower. It could be that they showcase the most magnificent pair of breasts I’ve ever seen. Less than a handful but enough to wrap my lips around. My mouth waters for a taste of her tender pink nipples.
“Landon?” she half sighs, half questions with fear in her tone.
“Nothing you don’t want, Cecilia,” I whisper against the pebbled buds. Blowing softly, I give her a light kiss, barely refraining from doing what I really want to do to her—devour every delectable inch of her body.
Laying my head on her chest, I enjoy the feeling of her body cradling mine, the way she melts into my touch. Her soft curves holding my sharp angles.
“Go out with me,” I mumble into her chest, adoring the sound of her heart beating.
“What?” she murmurs breathlessly.
Sitting up so I can see her eyes, I say again, “Have dinner with me. Tonight.” Waiting for her as she watches me is fucking torture, but I do it as she searches my eyes, face, and settles on my lips.
“Yes.” Her quiet answer is followed by a shy smile gracing her succulent lips.
Unable to stop staring, I need one more taste of her before I leave. Swooping down, I capture whatever she gives while I take us on a slow, sensual ride of exploration. I need her used to my touch, my flavor. Nibbling her bottom lip, I relish in the way Cecilia seeks me out for more as I pull away.
Meeting her stare, I lick across my lips, tasting her. “Cinnamon,” I whisper.
My new favorite flavor.
* * *
Cecilia
Landon leaving with the promise to be back a little later for dinner has me so damn confused. I don’t know whether to stay and wait with the anticipation I’m dying to let loose or allow my fear to force me to run.
Male attention is so new to me, especially from someone like Landon Powers. He’s enthralling, captivating, and powerful. I’m just me. Simple, shy, and a push-over.
As new as it all is, he leaves me feeling things I’ve never imagined before, things I’m not sure how to process. The most confusing of all is the fact that he’s seen my scars, the ones visible to the public and the ones hidden, and he didn’t run. In fact, compassion and worry filled his gaze before his lust had taken over.
Dating has never been easy for me. After a failed attempt in high school where the boy I really liked ran in horror once he saw how far the imperfections extended. He was so repulsed by them that it didn’t take much to push me away, and I certainly wasn’t going to try and make him understand.
From that day forward, I have been called Mark me crazy. A humiliating name that’s unwarranted. He spread rumors about me that were completely false all because I wanted to be a regular girl. Rejection warmed my bed for years after that day.
Since then, I’ve had no interest in anything but school. My sole focus for years has been to earn my degree in child welfare management. I may not be able to prevent the terrible things that happen to children, but, at least, I’ll be there in the aftermath. To help others like myself learn to cope with the insecurities and traumas.
As a young girl, I never had anyone to talk to other than my parents. Being their only child, they never saw anything wrong with me, they didn’t understand how hard it was to have such a physical detriment, and I could never get through to them.
At three years old, I was in a car accident that left me with more scars and trauma than a kid should have to endure for a lifetime. I don’t remember the accident. As far as I know, I’ve always looked this way, and maybe that’s why my parents never had doubts. They saw beyond the flaws.
If people hadn’t made fun of me, stared when I would go out, perhaps I could have moved past it. Embraced it even. Never given the chance to find out, I’ve always hidden away, kept to myself.
Adults have sometimes been the harshest critics. The scar on my cheek is, of course, one of the most prominent that I have. I used to stay up late at night obsessing over how to rid myself of it. An unrealistic dream because it was also part of what made me who I am today.
It’s taken years, but after a lot of soul-searching, I’ve accepted this part of myself. The scars and imperfections are all I know. It’s who I am in so many ways. I’ve seen the pictures from before the accident. I was happy, sunny, always had a twinkle in my eye. Now, the scar pulls at my mouth on one side, making the skin so tight, I almost always look angry. Makeup makes it worse, so I stopped trying to cover it up years ago.
Using my hair as a shield, I can usually hide from the crowds as long as my eyes are downcast, but it’s becoming tiresome. I’m ready to attempt to be normal again, but fear holds me hostage.
With the full attention of such an influential man, a man who is constantly in the spotlight and scrutinized, I’m not sure that’s where I should be attempting to break out of my shell. What would people think if they found out he was dating such a freak? I’m not made to handle the brutality of the world judging me. I’d be left with more internal scars than external. Being left in the cold to bear the torment is most certainly not what I’ll need.
Being with Landon Powers just isn’t possible. So why does it make me so sad?
Chapter 4
Landon
Before I’ve even reached the front door, I can tell something is off. There’s a sense in the air, and I know it has to do with Cecilia. She’s going to try and skip out on dinner with me, but I won’t let her. She’s going to be mine, come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes to prove to her we’re it for each other.
Knocking lightly on the wood, I wait for an answer. Half hoping she’ll open it in her tiny towel again.
“Oh, hello, handsome,” a woman a few years older than Cecilia purrs, wearing a skimpy as fuck robe. I hold back the gag climbing my throat. Her robe shows more than it covers, and I’m more repulsed than anything else.
“Where’s Cecilia?” I bark, trying to gaze around her, but she keeps moving into my line of sight.
“What do you want with Mark me crazy?” That’s the second damn time someone has called her that today and all it does is piss me off.
“Her name is Cecilia,” I growl. “Now, where is she?” I refuse to even acknowledge her question with the ridiculous nickname. Not only is it none of her business, but if I hear it one more time, I might snap.
Instead of calling for her, this woman decides to run her fingers down my tie and murmur, “I can show you a good time, handsome.” Gripping her wrist, I shove her back from me.
With a dirty look, I enter the apartment, and call out, “Cecilia!” Her huff of annoyance isn’t missed, nor is it cared for by me as this intrusion walks away muttering under her breath.
Closing the door behind me, I head in search of my goddess, taking in each room as I pass it until I reach a closed door at the end of the hallway. Opening it, I’m shocked at the vision before me. The state of her room is dismal. So sparse you’d never know anyone lived here. With a single mattress on the floor, a tiny table and cheap lamp beside it, I’m angered. The closet doesn’t even have a door on it, and there are few clothes hanging inside.
