by Aubrey Irons
That’s all I’ve got the capacity for.
And that’s why I take my hand back. That’s why I ignore every synapse in my brain and every base desire I have, sitting there losing myself in those big green eyes.
I drag my eyes away from her and raise a hand to our waitress for the check.
This can’t, and won’t, ever happen. Because whatever teasing thoughts and fantasies linger in this moment and in the space between us, that’s all they can ever be. And I have to make damn sure I keep things professional with her.
She doesn’t need to know my story.
She doesn’t need to know about Emily.
She doesn’t need to be taking up space in my head like this.
And I need to leave. Now.
“Guess that’s a wrap then?” She arches a brow as the waitress brings the check to my waiting corporate card.
I spread my hands. “I’ve got an early, busy day tomorrow.” I shrug. “We have an early, busy day tomorrow, actually.”
“Right, yeah,” she nods, her eyes looking away now as she picks up her glass to finish her drink.
The check comes back and I sign quickly, slipping my wallet back into my jacket pocket as I stand. She follows suit, and we both head for the door.
Again, in the other version of this evening, there’s only one destination here, and only one outcome once we get there.
And yet, again, this is not that version.
“Until tomorrow then.”
For a second, it looks like she’s about to say something, and standing there with her on the quiet, empty Denver street corner, I want her to. I want her to say something to shatter the whirlwind of confusion blurring though my head.
But she smiles instead, her arm outstretching.
A handshake.
I could almost laugh.
“Thank for dinner, Landon. See you at the office tomorrow.”
Our hands linger for one final second.
“See you tomorrow, Serena.”
And then we’re parting, and walking in two different directions into the night.
‘Don’t fish off the company pier they say? Shit, boy, I say don’t even mention the sport on the company pier.’
I used to grin whenever Sam dropped some little altruism or personal opinion concerning women.
It’s never been more soberingly relevant than in this moment.
Chapter Eleven
Serena
Four Weeks Ago:
“Well that was…interesting.”
Landon laughs, the heat of the night and the drinks we’ve had bringing a redness to his face. He passes me the half-chilled bottle of champagne he bought at the bar down in the lobby of the hotel.
His hotel.
His hotel that somehow became our next destination after leaving the cocktail function Landon had to make an appearance at. The one I tagged along to. Rich cocktail parties with an insanely hot man I don’t know who bought me an obscenely expensive silver necklace specifically to wear to the event, and has now somehow gotten me up to his lavish hotel room balcony.
This could not be further from my typical night, and part of me has no idea how and why I’m here. Well, no, I know why I’m here. He’s attractive, totally unavailable emotionally, and he lives halfway across the country.
He’s ideal for a night of no-strings-attached fun, and for getting my mind off of David.
Except I’m hesitating. Maybe because sleeping with strangers isn’t really my move.
“I’d say Ruby Tuesday was a tremendous hit.”
I snicker. “Did no one seriously get the reference? I think everyone but us in that room was like twenty when the Rolling Stones came out.”
“Oh, they were, but they were twenty and living in a boardroom or a corner office, not listening to popular music and having fun.”
“Booooor-ring.”
“I second that.”
I grin at him, my hand coming up to toy with the silver chain against my neck. “Look, I hope I didn’t embarrass you in there. No, seriously. I might have taken the character thing a little far.”
He chuckles. “Do you mean the part where you’re the heiress to Lord Racington, the famous horse racing baron?”
I almost snort champagne out through my nose.
“I mean, Lord Racington?”
“What, I thought it was pretty clever spur of the moment.”
He grins. “Or did you mean the part where you told that group we were talking to that you’d lived in Kyoto for a year.”
“Okay, that could have gone better, I’ll admit.”
“You mean if that one guy hadn’t started speaking in Japanese to you?”
“Right, that.”
Landon laughs again. “Nah, I think it was all perfect. And no, Serena, you didn’t embarrass me.” He shrugs. “Also, I don’t actually care what anyone back there thinks.”
“So why go at all?”
He grins. “To show off the gorgeous woman I somehow managed to pull from the bar tonight.”
My face tingles with the blush, my teeth raking over my lip. My eyes dart to him, seeing the mix of playful smirk and burning seriousness etched across his face.
I take a quick drink from the bottle in my hands, the bubbles teasing and tickling over my lips and tongue. I pass the bottle back to him, watching as he brings it to his perfect, sculpted lips and takes a sip. He watches me as he swallows, saying nothing as he passes the bottle back.
“I’m not, like, looking for anything,” I find myself saying.
He smiles, those perfect teeth flashing in the light from the city spread out before us. “And neither am I, but I don’t think that should stop us from enjoying our evening.”
“I could not agree more,” I say quietly.
I swallow quickly as he steps closer. His hand moves to my hip, teasing its way to the small of my back and pulling me against him.
“Of course, you are the enemy.” I drag my teeth over my lip as I look up at him.
“Yeah but doesn’t that just make this more interesting?”
“Only if no one I work for finds out.”
“Our little secret?”
I nod, swallowing quickly. “I can work with that.”
“I leave in a few hours, you know,” he husks against my lips.
“Perfect,” I murmur back, feeling my pulse pounding in my chest as I find myself molding my body to his.
“You’ve got green eyes,” he says quietly.
“So do you, what are the odd-”
His lips crush against mine, stealing the words from them and the breath from my chest. I moan into his mouth as I fall into him, my hands pulling him closer as our tongues slip together.
He spins us around, my back pressing into the balcony railing behind me, sending a shiver of danger teasing through me. He kisses me hard, and I’m melting for him. I’m on fire, wanting him and wanting this commitment-free release more than anything. I can feel the thick bulge in his pants pressing into my thigh, only heightening my need for him.
His lips move to my neck, making me gasp as his hand slides between us. It teases over my belly, down over a thigh, and hooks at the hem of my dress.
“Should we go inside?” I breath, gasping as he starts to pull my dress higher and higher.
“We could,” he growls into my ear, his teeth nipping at the tender skin there. “Or we could just stay out here.”
I whimper at what he’s suggesting - at doing what the pooling heat between my legs wants me to do with him out here.
His hand moves to my back, fingers finding the zipper to my dress.
“Wait, out-”
I gasp as he pulls it down, the dress coming away from my body and the warm night air teasing over my bare back.
“Take your dress off for me.”
It’s a command.
It’s an order.
It’s the hottest six words I can remember hearing, ever.
And I’m nodding, my eyes locked on his as I
shrug the dress over my shoulders, slip my arms from it, and let it fall down to pool at my feet.
His jaw tightens, his eyes flashing as his gaze trails over my body, standing there in just my bra, panties, heels, and the necklace. He moves back against me suddenly, and I gasp at the ferocity of his kiss. I’m moaning into his lips again, feeling myself let go and feeling myself melt against him.
My hands pull at his tie, yanking it from his shirt before tearing at the buttons until I can shove the whole thing off his muscled shoulders. The tattoos I’m not expecting from the man in the suit like this, but I barely have time to take them in before we come crashing together again.
I’m pulling at his belt as his fingers move over the front of my panties, feeling how damn wet I am for him. I whimper as he pulls them to the side, a single finger dragging over my slickness and teasing over my clit.
But we both want this too much for teasing. The teasing comes later, but this round, it’s just raw primal need.
My panties skim down my legs, and his pants and his boxers follow them to the floor. I moan as I reach for him, my pulse skipping a beat as I wrap my fingers around him and realize just how big he is. He’s tearing a foil packet open, kissing me as his hands bring the condom down and roll it over his length before centering himself against my opening.
The thought of him taking me like this, right here out in the open on his hotel balcony has me so wet I’m practically dripping onto him. His hands drop to my ass, pulling one leg up to his waist as he starts to push inside. I moan, tossing my head back and wrapping my arms around his neck as he slowly buries that glorious cock of his inside.
It’s hard and it’s sweet release that time. We move like one, rocking together, fucking under the night sky. His hips crash into mine, his fingers dig into my skin as he pulls me against him again and again. His mouth sears itself to mine, tasting my tongue, devouring my lips as his cock strokes in and out, hitting that perfect spot again and again.
When the orgasm hits me, I scream out loud into the night, clutching at him as he rocks up into me and groans his own release.
And then we’re spinning. Before I can even catch a breath, he’s picking me up, his cock still deep inside of me, and bringing us inside to the bedroom.
That’s when we take our time.
That’s when he makes me come so many times with his mouth, his fingers, and his cock that I literally lose track of them.
That’s where we’re almost falling asleep in the early morning hours. Sunlight’s streaming in through the blinds when I finally slip from his bed - sore and loving it - dressing, and kissing him once.
“Oh, wait, you need this,” I whisper at his doorway, him leaning against the doorframe totally naked as I stand in the hallway.
I go for the necklace around my neck, which never managed to come off along with the rest of what I was wearing.
“Keep it.”
I shake my head. “No, it was way too-”
“Trust me, it looks better on you than in a boring glass case in a store.”
I hold his eyes, biting my lip. “Thanks for a great night,” I finally say.
“It was nice knowing you, Ruby Tuesday.”
Present:
After another few days, I’m slowly getting into this.
Slowly being the key word there.
There is a ton of paperwork, and I’m still way over my head with everything, but if there’s one thing my father taught me, it’s not quitting. It’s not giving up and not saying, “it’s too hard” when it gets tough.
So despite the complete lack of experience, the fact that up until a few days ago, I had no idea what an “equity accrual P&L” report even was, and the fact that Landon’s been cool to me ever since that dinner, I’m digging in and muscling through it all.
The sudden change of temperature with him isn’t a mystery either. I know the look in his eye, and I know the one he saw in mine at dinner that night.
A moment of pretending.
A moment of forgetting who we are and what the stakes are here. A moment of me forgetting that Landon Reece is an entitled prick.
But still, just for a second there in that restaurant, it felt like that night back in Houston. It felt like the night we pretended all bets were off - like we could just be us.
A few days later though, and we’re right back to this.
I’m sharing his office, but the only conversation we have is on the state of the team, and my mountain of questions concerning the things we’re going over. It’s not cold, it’s just very much not what it was in the restaurant, where we both opened up and lightened up a little.
But for now, we’re co-workers. Definitely and un-confusingly coworkers. And for now, that seems to work.
But on top of everything - on top of Landon’s sudden chill, and the entire new job I’m crash course learning, I’m also getting extremely tired of hotel life. I’ve been in one since I landed back in Denver, and it’s not the glamorous life you might think it is, believe me. Instead, I’ve just ended up feeling like some sort of vagabond - homeless in this strange new city.
It might feel less like that if the one person I knew coming here wasn’t suddenly giving me the cold shoulder.
I get it, in a way. I understand what he’s doing, but it’s completely unnecessary. This isn’t high school, and I’m not some delicate little flower of a girl who needs to be “reminded” that what happened with us before was a one time thing.
Believe me, the feeling is mutual.
I can’t imagine a woman looking at a man like Landon Reece and seeing “relationship material” there. Please. The man has lifelong bachelor written all over him. He’s also the type of man who’s gorgeous enough and knows it that it’s entirely gone to his head. The perfect hair, the sculpted body, the expensive clothes and shoes and watch, the sleek, modern, ultra-masculine office decor.
All of it points to a man who’s in a relationship with exactly two things: his job, and being perpetually single. There might be girls out there who don’t see all that - girls who I’m sure are his target demographic - but I am not one of them. No, I see Landon for exactly who he is.
Cocky, arrogant, self-righteous, self-involved, and self-fulfilling.
And so, yes, I fully comprehend the ridiculousness of looking at a man like him and seeing “relationship”. But those same traits are exactly why he made the perfect one-night fling. Gorgeous, cocky, lives in another state and is completely unavailable emotionally.
Perfect. The perfect man for some much needed no-strings-attached sex.
Now, if he could only get over himself and stop thinking he has to go out of his way to “prove” to me how “aloof” and unavailable he is, we might just start getting along better.
“Okay, fuck it, I can’t.”
It’s barely lunch time when I jerk my head up from the papers strewn about my own makeshift desk. Landon tosses a pen across his and brings his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes and groaning.
“My eyes are going to start bleeding here if I keep going over this shit.”
I snort, raising a brow. “Thought this was your wheelhouse.”
He gives me a look - an almost grin. “Are you kidding me? This is easily five times the shit I usually deal with.”
I frown. “And here you were making me feel like I had to ‘catch up’ to your level?”
He grins. “Mutual motivation.”
“Dick.”
He winks as he reaches for his desk phone. “I’m going to call in some lunch. You want anything?”
We push papers aside when his burger and my cobb salad come, and I dig in, not even realizing how starving I was until I do.
“You mind if I catch the highlights?”
Landon nods his chin at the TV on the shelf across the room.
“Not at all.”
Sports talk fills the room as I take another bite of my salad before pulling out my tablet and pulling up the listings website I was looking at the nig
ht before.
I seriously need to move out of my stupid hotel. I need a permanent place to call home, even if it ends up being for only another few weeks.
“What’s Washington Park like?”
Landon looks up from the TV. “Fine, I guess? For what?”
“For living,” I shrug, looking back at the website.
“Jesus, you’re still in a hotel aren’t you.”
I look back up and make a face, and his jaw tightens.
“You know what, let’s go.”
“Go?”
“Yeah, I can’t look at this damn paperwork anymore today anyways or I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
I grin, raising a brow as he takes a final bite of his burger and stands from his desk.
“C’mon, I’ll be your chauffeur.”
“For?”
“For getting you out of a hotel like a shut-in and finding you an actual place. Besides,” he shrugs and grins, “you’re going to be one of the richest women in Denver in a few weeks, right? Seems we should get you a place befitting of that.”
Ten minutes later, we’re driving through the city while Landon calls a real estate friend of his.
It’s surreal, and kind of hilarious. A month ago, I was avoiding getting the mail for fear of student loan collections. But by three o’clock that afternoon, I’ve toured four different multi-million-dollar penthouse condos, discussing cash offer incentives.
It’s weirdly domestic doing this with Landon. We’re looking at kitchen layouts, thinking though entertaining spaces and where a TV would go, and weighing south versus north facing balconies.
As much as I’d never believe it, I’m having fun. Shockingly, Landon’s not so bad when he finally lightens up.
“Well, huh.”
We’re standing in the doorway to a master bathroom while Marcus, the realtor, calls ahead for another listing in the other room. A master bathroom with the world’s most ill-placed floor-to-ceiling, wall-width window.
Landon shakes his head, scratching his chin. “Well, it’s a hell of a view.”
