It's incredible.
"If you need anything, I'll be in the house," Troy says. I begin to turn to reply when I'm halted in my tracks. Coming around the corner is the most spectacular thing I've seen all night.
Barrett gives me a smile as he saunters towards me. He's wearing dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt with black, leathery-looking edging.
He looks like he just walked off the pages of a magazine and not from around the corner of a fireplace. Sexy and edgy, beautiful and classic. He's everything.
“You are gorgeous,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear.
My pulse quickens as he approaches, his cologne filling the air. His grin widens as he reaches me and kisses me gently on the cheek. The simple contact has my body rioting, my thighs clenching together to dull the ache that's rapidly growing between them.
He saunters by me and undoes the ties that hold the fabric back. In a few seconds, the front of the structure is draped with the gauzy, flowing fabric, and it only adds to the romantic ambiance of the setting.
When he turns to face me, a wicked grin lays on his lips. "Thank you for coming," he whispers, taking my hand. He holds it in his for a long second, letting the warmth of the contact mingle, before leading me to my chair.
We reach the elegantly set table with pillar candles in large, glass vases and white sand. Fresh flowers spring from containers in the center, as well as more food than either of us can possibly consume in one night.
"This is beautiful," I breathe. There are two places formally set at one end with crystal wine glasses and china that clearly didn't come out of the local department store. I glance down at my clearance rack sundress and release a breath.
At one point in my life, I would’ve been right at home in this scenario. I had a closet full of expensive clothes that wouldn’t fit in my car when I left Hayden. I had routine visits with a hairdresser, fresh manicures, and expensive make-up.
I try not to get embarrassed in the comparison of the before and after because this is where I am now and this is who I am. And I’m for the better because of it in all the ways that matter.
Pulling out a chair, he motions for me to sit. "I hope steak and Petrus Pomeral will do."
"I'll be honest," I say as I lower myself into the chair. "I love steak but I have no idea what the other thing is."
His laugh fills the air, floating on the gentle breeze that flutters the candlelight. "It's a French wine. My favorite. You do like wine, don't you?"
"Do I like wine?" I scoff. "What kind of question is that?"
"A question someone asks someone else when they want to know more about them.”
I grin as he sits across from me. I love watching him move, his muscles flex as he bends and pushes.
He lifts the silver lid in front of him and I do the same. Sitting beneath the cover is a large steak, heat still rising from the plate. I have no idea how he managed to put all of this together, but I suppose it’s easy when you’re a Landry.
“Did your day get any better?” I ask, watching a shadow roll over his face.
“Not really. It won’t get any better for awhile.” He looks up at me. “As far as work goes, anyway.”
A smile stretches across my face and I’m happy to see it returned.
“How was yours?” he asks.
“I got a little studying done before I left for work. I’ll have to finish it when I get home. But otherwise, it was good.”
“You could’ve brought your homework here,” he suggests. “I could’ve helped you study.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Sure. It would put you to sleep.”
“If I can stay awake in meetings about a dog park, I’m pretty sure I can stay awake watching you read. I’d probably even like it.”
Flushing, I take a sip of my wine. It’s rich and delicious.
“Did your son have a good day fishing today with your father? They went again, right?”
“Yeah,” I laugh, remembering his call on the way here. “They had fun.”
“Did his father ever do that kind of thing with him?”
I look away. “No, not really. Hayden was always busy.”
“I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I just don’t think about that any more than I have to. I avoid it at all costs, really.”
“I can understand that,” he smiles softly. “Hux just seems like a great kid. Lincoln loved him.”
Laughing, I place my glass back on the table. “Because he called you out about your pitch.”
Barrett chuckles.
“Hux liked Lincoln too. He pretty much thinks he met a rock star.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because they’re probably interested in the same things. Baseball and girls.”
“My son doesn’t like girls!” I exclaim.
“Give it time,” Barrett chuckles. “They’ll be calling your phone all hours of the night.”
“I’m not ready for that,” I say, feeling a bit of panic. “I don’t even have a gun.”
Barrett bursts into a fit of laughter. “I’ll let you borrow Troy. He can be Hux’s new security guy.”
He seems to think nothing about what he’s just said, but I do. I watch him slice his steak, but I can’t shake the idea that if something did happen between us, Hux might actually need a security guy. The thought really bothers me.
“What’s the matter?” Barrett asks, setting his fork down.
“I know we’re eating and conversation is usually kept light, but what you just said made me think.”
“What I just said?” He scrunches his face, trying to figure out what I’m referring to. “About Troy?”
I lean back in my chair, putting a little distance between us. “We keep talking and seeing each other. And I can’t imagine that stopping anytime soon.”
“God, I hope not.”
My cheeks flushing, I try not to swoon and stay focused. “But then what, Barrett? What would that mean for Huxley?”
He considers my question. He takes a sip of wine before responding. “Well, you’re his mother. It’s your decision.”
“I mean, I know this might not go anywhere,” I say hurriedly. “I know it’s awful timing for you, and I’m not even sure I want it to go anywhere anyway—”
“I do.”
I force a swallow. His bluntness, his quick interruption, startles me. I search his face for a moment of, Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that, but I don’t see it. It’s not there.
“You do?”
“Even though you’re right—this is the wrong time to be starting a relationship with someone. Not even just that, I’m basically the guy you’ve been avoiding and I know that puts extra pressure on things. I want this to go somewhere. I want to see if it can. And maybe it can’t,” he adds with a small smile, “but I don’t want to always wonder.”
My eyes squeeze shut. He’s saying the things any woman in the world would love to hear him say, yet I don’t know if I can reciprocate them.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “I don’t want to be in the media or Huxley to lose his freedom. I don’t want to be harassed for questions and . . .” I look at him with as much seriousness as I can. “I don’t want to be embarrassed publicly.”
“I would never embarrass you.”
“I know. I believe that. But sometimes, you know . . . What if you get elected? Then you move to Atlanta and all of a sudden there’s media everywhere asking questions, sticking cameras where they don’t belong? I’m getting déjà vu thinking about it.”
“Why?” he snorts. “Because you married an imbecile that thought he was king because he got a job as a judge?”
“Yes, actually. Because what if you go up the ladder and leave me behind?”
The thought causes a flash of panic to tear through me and I have to look away. It’s not the idea of being alone, that I can do. It’s the feeling of being unnecessary.
He tosses the linen napkin from his lap onto the table. His eyes a
re fiery. “Why would I do that?”
“I know how these things work.”
“No, you know what you’ve seen. But you haven’t seen me. You haven’t given me a chance to show you how I feel, how I act. How I feel about you won’t change whether I win the election or not. I don’t know exactly what will happen if I get the job. It’s something we’d have to figure out then together.” He grins. “What happened to that whole ‘Speak as you find’ thing?”
He’s making it way too easy to cave in. I look away from his beautiful eyes and sexy smile, from all the temptations that lure me in.
“What about Huxley?” I ask, figuring if there’s a deal breaker, it’ll be him.
“What about him? I’ll just have him do my baseball public relations work.”
Chuckling, I look at him. His features are softened in the candle light, his smile so authentic it makes me swoon.
He wants me. And Hux.
“How can I make sure he’s protected?”
“Protected how? Like physically?”
“Yes. In every way. I don’t want him loving you and then having you walk away.”
He looks away from me this time, and I hold my breath.
“If we take things slow, keep them out of the media, I don’t think he’ll have many ramifications to this. And taking it slow gives us a chance to see if it’s going to work out before we go all in. I don’t want to hurt either of you, Alison.”
He leans towards me and picks up the golden peacock feather necklace that lies between my breasts. The back of his hand rests against me for a second longer than necessary, and I know he can feel the thundering of my heart beneath it. The contact stops my breathing, and I just watch his hand turn over the emblem.
"This is beautiful." He places it where he found it, gently pressing it into my dress. His gaze locks on to mine, and he sinks back in his chair.
The air between us is thick, like a warm blanket on a cool evening. I feel him looking at me, and my cheeks flush as my eyes find his.
"What do you want out of life, Alison?”
I think about it for a long second. “I want to build a good life for Huxley and I, one that I can be proud of. One that can’t be taken away.”
“Dig deeper.”
“What?”
“Imagine yourself in fifty years,” he instructs. “What stories do you want to tell your grandkids?”
“Well,” I begin, trying to muddle through my mind, “I want to tell them about all the times I laughed, the times I cried because I was so happy. I hope I can show them pictures with lots of smiles and recall silly little picnics and tons of special moments.”
“So you want to be happy?”
“Yes. I want to be happy.”
“What does happy look like to you?”
You. Feeling like I feel when you look at me. Having this little ball of giddiness when I see you smile, this level of comfort that I haven’t felt with a man before.
But I don’t say that. Instead, I consider my options. “It looks like fall afternoons on a porch swing, summer afternoons with a glass of lemonade by a pool. Happy looks like late night talks under a pile of blankets with a man that loves me like I love him.”
Barrett’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. He just soaks in the words, the imagery, and leans forward. “You have a way with words.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You just took the ideas in my head and said them more eloquently than I ever could’ve.”
My breath catches, my heart thundering in my chest.
“Will you try to find those things with me? Just see if we can.”
“Slowly?” I ask, my voice shaking.
I want this, I know I want this. Damn it, I want this so much it’s strangling me. It’s a risk, a shot in the dark, hope hung on the laurels of a devilishly handsome politician. But when I look in his eyes, I see something I’ve never seen in someone’s eyes before. And I want to see that for a long time.
“Fast, slow, sideways, if that’s what it takes. But I’m kind of dying over here,” he mutters, a tremble in his voice too.
As soon as I respond, my heart and vagina are all tied up. I know this. But I get the binding ready.
“Yes,” I breathe, my blood pressure soaring. “Let’s try it.”
Barrett
I PUSH AWAY FROM THE table and walk behind her. She faces forward, but tilts her head, exposing her neck. I brush her hair off to the side and lay my hands firmly on her shoulders. The thin strip of the straps of her dress are the only barrier between us. When our skin touches, a flurry of goose bumps race across her skin. She shivers beneath my touch and I can feel it in my cock. I harden immediately, my length swelling against my jeans.
I have to play this right. She’s not another woman in my life that I won’t care if I see tomorrow or not. She’s the woman in my life.
"I want you,” I breathe, watching her react.
She turns her head and looks at me with a glimmer in her eye, the one I love so much normally but right now—it’s even brighter. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, giving me a little grin.
I let my fingertips stroke the skin along the ridge of her shoulder. “I want you. All of you, Alison. I want the whole thing.”
She looks across the space and takes in the ambiance I carefully constructed for her. I wanted her to feel special, to feel like I took the time to impress her. It was an odd feeling, wanting to impress a woman. I don’t recall ever doing it before.
“I want you too,” she says finally, a seductive smile planting across her gorgeous lips. She glances down at my cock before meeting my eyes again. “All of you.”
I roll my hands down the front of her shoulders and let them dip into the front of her dress. The smooth fabric on top and silky skin below are fucking heaven.
"Ah," she moans, resting her head against my right arm. Her breasts overflow my hands, the voluptuousness driving me absolutely wild.
I trail lazy kisses from behind her ear down her neck. She's so delicate that I push away the thoughts of what this moment could do to this strong, yet fragile, girl. What the aftermath could be if something goes wrong.
Her gasps obliterate any thoughts other than the feel of her under my fingers.
"What are you doing to me?" she whispers, her voice filled with as much need as is coursing through my body.
I press my lips against her neck, right beneath her ear. "Exactly what you thought I was going to do you. What you were picturing in your mind when you agreed to be mine."
Alison shudders beneath my touch as I roll one of her nipples between my fingers. She turns her head to face me and I capture her mouth with mine. She moans into my mouth, and the sound reverberates through me. I feel it through every inch of my body, increasing the frantic need to be inside of her.
Our tongues dance together, a frenzied movement that takes advantage of all the times we've denied ourselves. She's intoxicating, the taste of wine fresh on her tongue. I pull my hands to her face, cupping each cheek, my fingers pressing into her skin, as I deepen the kiss.
She stands, the chair crashing to the floor behind us. The things on the table shake, some fall over, as she bumps it with her hip to angle towards me. Her hands slide up my neck, down my back, touching as much of me as she can.
It's the most intense feeling I've ever had. Everything is intensified to a level I've never felt before.
I cup her ass in my hands, squeeze, and nearly come apart as she pops her hips and works her tongue against mine. I lift her swiftly, her eyes flying open. She never breaks the kiss as I sit her on the table a couple of steps away from her plate.
Alison's lips pull at mine as I suspend the kiss. Her breathing is ragged, matching my own, as I run my fingertips up her arms. She peeks at me through her long lashes and waits for me to make my next move.
I really just want to burst into her and feel her body wrap around mine. I want to enjoy it, make it a memory worth having.
&nbs
p; She's so fucking beautiful.
My fingertips reach the straps of her dress, and I lift them with the pads of my fingers. I slide them down her arms until the top of her dress is pooled at her waist. She’s facing me wearing nothing but a red lace bra. I can make out her nipples through the lace and it puts me over the edge.
"You waiting on something?" she asks, her voice shaky.
A low chuckle escapes my throat as I close the half step distance between us. She bites her lip as I come forward. Lifting her ample breasts out of her bra, I let them sit on top, the nipples in stiff peaks pointing right at me.
So fucking perfect.
I take one into my mouth, rolling her nipple with my tongue. She yelps in pleasure, grabbing my hair and pressing my face into her harder. I nip and suck, feeling her smooth skin fill my mouth. My other hand goes to the other, palming it, feeling the weight of its fullness.
"Barrett," she moans, spreading her legs apart. Her head is tipped back, her hair spreading out behind her. It's the purest, most erotic display.
"Lay back," I command, standing in front of her. She raises her eyebrows and I subtly shake my head. "Back, Alison."
Lowering herself flat on the table, her quick breaths echo through the night. Her breasts bounce with each movement and my cock throbs so hard it's painful.
I lift one of her legs, her dress rolling up her thighs. Her pussy glimmers with wetness, completely uncovered.
I press a kiss against the inside of her ankle, and she jerks at the contact. I wrap my hand harder around her foot, pressing another kiss, and she doesn't move.
"Good girl," I whisper. I lick a light trail from her ankle to the bend in her leg, stopping to take a deep breath of her scent. The vanilla is mixed with a heady musky scent. I force a swallow, but my throat is tight. My entire body, every fucking piece of me, needs a release.
Licking my way up her thigh, her leg trembles under my touch. I flatten my tongue as I reach the top, slowing my journey to the apex of her thighs. Moving my hands to her waist, I knock back her dress so that it’s bunched up just below her chest. I could remove it altogether and consider that, but I don't want to wait.
I can't.
Sway (Landry Family #1) Page 12
