by LP Lovell
His eyes lock with mine and his fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my hand from his cheek and pressing it against his chest, holding it there.
“You’re covered in dirt.” I say, my voice husky through my tightening throat.
He nods. “Can I use your bathroom?”
“Yeah.” I hear myself saying. This is a bad idea. Landon should not be in my house. This is crossing one of the many lines that lead to my imminent failure at life, and yet I’m skipping the fuck over it.
He follows me inside, and I notice him glancing around the apartment as I show him to the bathroom. I bought the apartment a couple of years ago when it was brand new. It’s right on the river, very modern and as an investment, it’s a smart one. But as I look around at it, seeing it through Landon’s eyes, I guess it’s pretty bare. To me, my home is a place where I sleep, but I’ve never been into trinkets. I keep my apartment clutter free and immaculate at all times.
I leave him to it in the bathroom and head into the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink?” I shout because it would be rude not to offer and he did try and change my tyre for me. Damn, I’m going soft.
“Do you have beer?”
“Wine.” I offer. There’s no response so I assume he didn’t hear me. I take a bottle out of the fridge and pour a glass for myself anyway. When I turn around, I plough straight into him. Damn it; I swear he’s like some kind of ninja, always creeping up on me. I spend far too much time walking into his wall of a chest. He makes no effort to move and my pulse ratchets up about three gears.
“Wine’s great.” He says in that deep voice of his. I swallow heavily and turn around, squeezing my eyes shut as soon as I have my back to him. I pour him a glass and because he makes me jittery, some spills. He reaches around me, enclosing me against the kitchen cabinet as he picks up the glass. My skin prickles with awareness, and I have to force myself not to move. He moves away, and I glance over my shoulder, watching as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. He places the wine on the work top, pulls out his phone and starts tapping away on the screen before putting it to his ear.
“I have a job for you.” He says into the receiver. “Yeah, tonight. New tyre, and it needs to be back in the morning.” There’s a pause. “Put it on my account.” He looks up at me, mouthing ‘address’. I grab an unopened piece of junk mail out of the drawer and slide it across the breakfast bar to him. He reels it off and hangs up the phone. “He’ll be here within an hour and tow it.”
“Thanks. And you’re not paying for it. Just get him to bill me.” He says nothing and smirks as he takes a sip of his wine. “I mean it, Landon.” I point at him.
“You know, if you want to do the whole independent woman thing, then learning how to change a tyre might be a good start.”
I glare at him. “I am not changing a tyre.”
He huffs a laugh. “What, too much of a princess?”
“I pay for breakdown cover for just such an occasion.”
He shrugs. “Yep, and wait two hours for a guy to come and do a five-minute job.”
“Well, you didn’t do it in five minutes.”
“No, because you bought a car which is missing half of its kit. I think they saw you coming, kitten.” Aggravating. He’s aggravating and irritating and annoyingly hot.
I choose to ignore him. “Well, thank you for your help. I think I can handle it from here.”
He downs his wine and stands up, moving around the counter and coming towards me. “I told you, I need to fuck you.”
“Too bad. I’ll have to reschedule.” He moves even closer and lowers his face to mine. His scent assaults me, and his lips come so close I have to slam my eyes closed and grip the counter just to keep from leaning in and kissing him. “Unless you want to just skip the theatrics and fuck right here on the kitchen floor?” He breathes against my lips. I suck in a desperate breath as his lips brush over mine in a feather light touch.
I turn my head to the side. “What makes you think I would fuck you in my apartment?” A low chuckle makes its way up his throat, and he glides his nose over my cheek until his steady breaths touch my neck, making my skin flush with goose bumps.
“Very well.” He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nips it before pulling away. My lungs are screaming for air as I release a harsh breath and inhale deeply. I pick up my wine glass and down the entire thing. He laughs, his beautiful face becoming positively heart-stopping beneath a wide grin.
“Do you have anything to eat?” He asks, opening my fridge, casually rummaging through it as if firstly; he hasn’t just propositioned to fuck me on my kitchen floor, and secondly; it’s his bloody house.
I slam the fridge door. “No, I don’t. You need to leave.” He ignores me and starts going through the cupboards until he finds some rice cakes and some peanut butter. “You know you’re really annoying.” I point out.
“And you’re really uptight.”
“I am not.” He resumes his position at the breakfast bar and unscrews the peanut butter, breaking the rice cakes apart and dipping broken bits in the peanut butter. My OCD brain is having a melt down. I get a knife and plate and put them in front of him, sweeping up the crumbs and putting them in the bin. “Use a knife!” I snap.
He cocks a brow. “Case in point.” He continues to dip the rice cake into the jar, a smug smile on his face the entire time.
“I swear to god, Landon…” I growl.
“Does it make you really mad, kitten?” He laughs. I storm towards him and make a grab for the jar, but he pulls it out of reach.
“Damn it, will you just leave?” I shout.
“Just let it go.” He purrs. Fucking arsehole. He dips a finger in the jar and then sticks it in his mouth, pulling it out slowly.
“You’re disgusting,” I grumble, making a dive for it again, this time, he just holds it above his head and even with him sitting down I can’t reach it. I stretch on tip toes, and he laughs the entire time as I lean over him. Suddenly his free arm is in the small of my back, and he pulls me until I topple forward against him with my hands braced on his shoulders and every inch of my body plastered to his side.
My anger subsides, and his grin disappears as his eyes drop to my lips. I hear the jar clink against the worktop, and then his hand is in my hair, and his lips are a whisper from mine. I feel like a yoyo with him, backwards and forwards, wanting him, then hating him and back again.
“Let go, Georgia.”
I squeeze my eyes shut but don’t pull away from him. “I can’t.”
“Then let me make you.” I don’t even have time to register his words before he grabs me around the waist and picks me up, dropping me on the edge of the breakfast bar and stepping between my legs.
“I can’t…” He drops to a crouch in front of me and forces my legs open at the same time, popping the stitching on my skirt as he presses his lips against the lace over my clit. I choke, unable to talk, or think. All I can do is feel him, his fingers digging into my thighs, his warm breath on my skin, the promise of his lips, his tongue. His fingers slip beneath the lace, sliding over my pussy.
“Landon. I…” Oh god, he makes everything feel so good. “Not here.” I say though the words are lost on a moan as he pushes two fingers inside me.
“I can stop, kitten. Just say the word.”
“I can’t fuck you here.” I plead.
He thrusts the fingers harder into me, and I buck wildly. “You’re not fucking me Georgia. I’m just having a taste.” And then his face presses between my thighs as he yanks my underwear to the side and swipes his tongue over my clit. I tense even as a wave of pleasure rips over my nerve endings.
“Let go.” He murmurs against me. I have no willpower left, and how could I against him? Landon plays me like an instrument, his mouth and fingers working me over like a master. I don’t stand a chance. He breaks me, changing me into a person I don’t even recognise.
His tongue circles my clit as his fingers thrust into me. My pussy is clenching ar
ound him, and a low growl tears up his throat. He has me falling apart in minutes; my arms braced behind me and my back arching off the work surface. My fingers are pulling at handfuls of his hair as I come, every muscle shaking and clenching. When I’m done, he bites the inside of my thigh hard enough to leave a mark and pulls his fingers out of me. I’m panting and shaking as I lay there staring at the spot lights above me.
I refuse to look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. I’m about to say something when his phone rings, breaking the silence.
“It’s the guy for the car.” He says. I simply nod before I hear his heavy footfalls as he moves down the hallway. He starts talking to the guy on the phone, and I hear the clink of my car key before the front door slamming.
Oh, my god. What am I doing?
Landon doesn’t come back. Instead, I get a text from him about half an hour later: Kitten. It was getting late so I left. Your car is taken care of. Meet me tomorrow night? I can still taste you, and I need more.
I always need more. That’s the problem.
It’s Saturday morning, and I think I’m having a small mental breakdown about last night. What is it about that man that makes me flick the middle finger at everything I’ve always known? My rules, my job, my life…he makes me forget about it all as if everything I ever wanted suddenly doesn’t matter. Then he leaves, and I’m left wondering what the hell I was thinking. The problem is, I don’t think around him. He tells me to let go, but he doesn’t realise that the second I met him was the second I lost my grasp on every single thing.
I go through my usual routine: make coffee, get dressed, pick up the post…only, this time, there’s an envelope in my mailbox, and it has something heavy in it. I open it to find a note and a key fob with a little silver trident on it.
Georgia,
My guy can fix your car without sawing the nut off, but you can’t have it until Monday. Use mine until then. I’ll see you tonight.
L x
I glance out the window and sure enough, parked in my space is the midnight blue Maserati. I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale through my nose. And now this. As if everything else wasn’t enough, now he does things like this, and I think it’s worse because this is an act of kindness. Last night he was selfless. I need to hate him, but it’s becoming increasingly harder.
By the time I finally walk into room 12 in Masque, I’m horny and irritable, but mostly confused. Landon came into my house; I let him into my house. Then he went down on me, made me come and left without so much as a goodbye. Why does it bother me? Because men are sexual creatures, driven by the simple urge to empty their balls into someone. What he did, it goes against the entire nature of our agreement. Perhaps if his phone hadn’t rung, he would have tried to fuck me. Maybe I would have let him. Right there. In my apartment.
He’s standing by the bed, removing his cufflinks when I walk in. He looks so calm, so controlled, the same as always. I don’t want control. I want him to feel as unhinged as I do.
I close the distance between us and slam my lips over his so hard that he staggers back a step. I push him, and he falls back on the bed with a low grunt. His eyes burn into me from behind the mask and for the first time since we started this, I feel powerful. I lean over him, dragging my nails over his hard stomach before I yank his belt open roughly. He cocks a brow, watching me with a hint of amusement in his expression. I pull his trousers and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. Before he can move or say anything, I kneel between his knees and slide the thick erection between my lips. A strangled groan makes its way up his throat and his hips buck as his dick touches the very back of my throat. I swallow around him to keep from gagging and suck my cheeks in as I slide back up. His fingers dive into my hair, and he lets out a string of expletives. I don’t suck cock very often, but trust me, I’m very good at it. For the first time since I met Landon Banks, I’m in control. I own him right now. With an act that I have always seen as submissive, I’m now dominant.
I swirl my tongue around the tip, and he jerks violently beneath me. “Fuck, Georgia.” He hisses. I work him over until he’s a mess, groaning and writhing beneath me. I want to make him come. I want him to lose all sense of self until the only thing that exists is me, my mouth, my touch. But just when I’m sure I have him, he sits up and grabs my hair, yanking me away from him. I look up, and our eyes lock, wild lust sparking through his like an angry storm cloud, rolling and swirling dangerously.
“I want to come in your pussy, kitten.” He pants.
I push to my feet and reach behind me, unzipping my dress and pushing it off my shoulders, allowing it to pool at my feet. I remove my bra and thong until I’m completely naked, standing in just my heels. His eyes survey every inch of my body hungrily as I throw one leg over his thighs, straddling him. The hot skin of his torso presses against me and tingles of sensation skitter over my body. Leaning forward he presses his lips against mine, but I pull back and fist his hair allowing him only a feather-light brush of his lips over mine.
“Don’t tease.” He growls, and I smile because I’ve never seen him so on edge. I lean in and suck his bottom lip into my mouth, biting down on it as I lift up on my knees and fist his cock. He hisses out a breath against my lips, and I smile, releasing his lip. He allows me to pull his head back further and swipe my tongue up the side of his throat as I lower myself down on his cock. My head falls back as a breathless gasp slips past my lips. Oh god, he feels so good. Every time. It doesn’t matter how many times I fuck him, it feels like the first time, every time, as though my mind is being blown and my body is being torn apart and put back together.
“Fuck!” He shouts when I take all of him. I release my grip on his hair and trail my hand over his jaw, cupping his face. His eyes meet mine and something passes between us, a connection unlike anything I’ve ever felt. And if I’m honest it scares me, so I start to move, clinging to his shoulders as I ride him. I moan as I grind my hips over him in deep, slow strokes. Hot breath mists my skin as his lips skate over my chest. His strong arms wrap around me, his forearms braced between my shoulder blades as his fingers knot in my hair. He pulls me close until there’s not an inch of space between us. I press my forehead to his, closing my eyes. His lips find mine, swallowing the string of moans that leave my lips as he forces his cock deeper inside me. My pussy clenches around him, and my core tightens as pleasure tears through my body, making me come so hard that I see stars. His hands slip to my hips, pushing me over him harder and faster as I scream. A feral growl works its way up his throat before he stiffens, thrusting deep inside me one last time and collapsing back on the bed. My head falls forward, and I brace my hands on his chest, absorbing the aftershocks that are rippling through my body in waves.
“I need to see you more.” He says out of the blue.
I open my eyes and look down at him, frowning. He remains impassive, his gaze focused on the ceiling. “You see me most days.”
His gaze meets mine. “I’m not talking about the office. Twice a week isn’t enough, kitten.” How much is enough with an arrangement like this?
“You could always go and fuck someone else between our meetings.” I say though the words bother me when I know they have no right to.
He sits up, bringing us face to face. I grip his shoulders, and he starts twirling a strand of my hair around his finger absentmindedly. “Is that what you want?”
I shrug and focus my eyes over his shoulder. “I fuck Apollo.” I say, completely avoiding the question altogether. I fuck Apollo with Landon watching, as a way to try and hold onto the control that Landon strips me of. He’s a walking catch twenty-two. I like what he does to me, but then hate that I allow it.
His lips twitch. “Hmm, but you’re hot when you play at having a dick.”
“This isn’t supposed to be a habit.” I say quietly, unable to look at him. I would happily fuck Landon every night of the week, but where is the line? A night here and there quickly escalates into every other night, and th
en what? It’s not good for either of us, but I’m the one with everything to lose here. He risks nothing.
“Well, then I propose a new contract.” He says. Just like that.
He reaches up and gently trails his fingers across my cheek as he tucks my hair behind my ear. It makes me frown and a whisper of concern takes hold. Things are changing.
He tilts his head to the side, meeting my gaze. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Uh, I…I need to go.” I swing my leg over him and sit on the edge of the bed, searching for my underwear. He inhales loudly, shifting on the bed and moving behind me. His fingers wind around my throat from behind, and he drags my back up against his chest.
“Landon…”
“Did I say I was done?” He growls right against my ear, snapping from the guy I could like into the arsehole I want and loathe at the same time. A shiver creeps over my skin and my pussy clenches.
“I’m done.” I hiss back.
He huffs a laugh. “Wrong, kitten. You’re so fucking wrong.”
And he proves me wrong because we’re so far from done. Landon and I may never be done. But this I can cope with, this side of him, I like, because I can still hate him. The guy that holds me while I come and tells me he needs to see me more…the guy that lends me his car and goes down on me wanting nothing but to make me come…that guy I can’t handle, because that’s a guy I could like. That guy has the potential to damage me.
Quinn and I usually do the gym or yoga in the mornings, every other Monday though, we do coffee. The Monday that I’m with Giles, she tends to schedule a Tinder date. She tells me it’s the only way to date in the city, but honestly, the thought of meeting complete randoms, most of which just want to send dick pics and spank one out to the thought of your tits…yeah, no thanks. She assures me you just have to dig through the shit ones to find the occasional gem, but that sounds like far too much effort to me. Not to mention the fact that she clearly hasn’t found a keeper yet. This coming from the girl who fucks her boss, though…I’m in no position to judge.
