Lost In You (Swanson Court #3)

by Serena Grey

  I start to drift off, and I’m already almost asleep when I hear him say my name, a soft whisper in my ear.

  “Hmm,” I reply.

  “I should get you home.”

  “I don’t want to go,” I murmur, but I know I have to. I’d have preferred to go with him to his apartment at the hotel, but Laurie is spending the night at our place and I’d already agreed to meet her there.

  I hear Landon chuckle softly. “We’ll go out to dinner tomorrow. How about that?”

  I burrow deeper into his arms. “Okay.”

  Joe is waiting to drive us to my apartment, and once there, Landon walks upstairs with me and gives me a deep, sensual kiss at the door, leaving me weak and wanting, before he says goodbye.

  Inside the apartment, Laurie is still awake. She’s in her room, packing up some of her clothes. She grins when she sees me.

  “You look happy.”

  “I am happy,” I reply, flopping on the bed. “Happy like a lovesick halfwit.”

  She snorts with laughter then wiggles her eyebrows at me. “I can imagine. You guys have probably exhausted all the Cosmo sex positions by now.”

  “Ugh.” I shake my head. “You have such a dirty mind.”

  “Oh, I do?” She laughs. “So… You guys spend all your time together talking about books and TV shows?”

  I stick out my tongue at her, then looking at the piles of folded clothes beside me on the bed, I frown in concern. “You think you’ll be all ready by the weekend?”

  She nods. “Yeah. It’s mostly just clothes and books, plus a few knickknacks. I’ll spend a few hours every day after work putting them together. I’ll be done before Saturday.”

  I nod. “Where’s Brett?”

  “He left about an hour ago.” She casts a wistful glance toward the bed and I wrinkle my nose and make a big show of shifting to the very edge.

  “You’re such a nympho!” I exclaim.

  She grins and tosses a t-shirt at me.

  “Are you apprehensive?” I ask softly, “about the wedding?”

  She frowns. “About the wedding itself, or getting married to Brett?”

  “I don’t know… Both?”

  She shrugs. “About Brett? No. I just feel at peace, you know? Happy. Like I know that this was always meant to happen, like I was always meant for him, for this. I’m a hundred percent sure about him.”

  “But?”

  She pauses and frowns. “Sometimes, I fret about all the arrangements, the dress, how the pictures will turn out, guest lists and all that… but you know, all that matters is that at the end of the day, Brett and I say our vows and officially become the most important people in each other’s lives.”

  “Plus your mom and mine are taking over the arrangements anyway, so no need to fret.”

  “Exactly.” She looks at me, one eyebrow raised. “Why all the questions? Are you thinking of dragging poor Landon to the altar?”

  “He wouldn’t be poor Landon if I did,” I say indignantly. “He’d be lucky.”

  “That is the spirit,” Laurie grins.

  “I wasn’t really thinking about marriage. I was just… I don’t know, wondering how you know for sure, without any doubts.”

  “Do you have doubts? About Landon?”

  I shake my head. “I know he’s the one.” I pause. “I don’t even know what he thinks about marriage as an institution, you know?” Especially with how his parents marriage had turned out.

  “Well, considering what you’ve told me about his relationship with his brother, he’d probably be a great dad.”

  “We haven’t cleared marriage and you’re talking kids,” I shake my head, although my mind dwells on the pleasant thought for a forbidden moment. Landon’s kids, my kids. The idea is so tempting, too tempting. “I don’t even know what I think about kids, except I’m sure I’ll have at least one set of twins who’ll be worse than our moms.”

  “That would be awful,” Laurie replies, laughing. It’s a joke between us that our moms act as if they’re the twins in the family.

  “I’ll miss this place,” Laurie says wistfully, her eyes going around the room. “Remember when we first moved in?”

  “Yeah.” We’d been so proud, and we’d attached so much importance to simple things like buying furniture. Now Laurie isn’t even taking many of the things we purchased. Just her lamps and a few picture frames.

  “I’ll miss you,” I tell her. “You and your damn reality shows.”

  “You know you love them,” she teases.

  I grin, “No, it’s you I love.”

  “Awww.” She makes a sad face. “I love you too.”

  We stay grinning at each other until I throw her t-shirt back at her and it lands on her face, then I help her pack until it’s time to go to bed.

  THE next day I leave work and go directly to the Swanson Court Hotel. I’m having dinner with Landon, but we’re leaving from his apartment. At the ground floor lobby, I make my way over to the elevators, remembering my impressions from the first time I ever came here. The beauty and tastefulness of the interior had impressed me, and months after, my admiration for the place hasn’t changed.

  The elevator deposits me in the foyer of Landon’s apartment and when I get to the living room, I’m surprised to see him seated on one of the armchairs. He has glasses on and he’s reading from a tablet. Wow! I think, staring, even the nerdy look is sexy on him.

  “Hi!” I exclaim, delighted. “I didn’t know you were home.”

  “I left early.” He puts the tablet aside and pulls off the glasses before rising languidly to his feet. He comes toward me and slides his hands around my waist, holding me close while his lips find mine, overwhelming me with a sweet, welcoming kiss. “How was your day?”

  “So, so.” I grin, breathing in the scent of his skin mixed with that subtle and irresistible hint of cologne, and thinking expectantly of the few hours we have before we have to go out to dinner. “How was yours?”

  Landon shrugs, and kisses me again, tasting my lips and teasing my tongue for a long sweet moment. When he pulls back, I moan softly, wanting more. He takes my bag off my shoulder, dropping it on one of the chairs. “What’s that you’re holding?”

  “Oh.” I look down at the small gift bag in my hand, suddenly nervous. Chadwick expedited my order and had it delivered to the office earlier in the day. “Ummm,” I raise the bag, handing it to him. “It’s for you.”

  His eyebrow quirks. “Really?” He takes it from me and with his arm still around me, leads me to the sofa. He watches my face, a quizzical expression on his as he pulls the packages out, and carefully unwraps them. He studies the first one, then the second, while I wait for him to say something.

  “I…” He shakes his head, and when he meets my gaze, his eyes are molten and wondrous. “These are incredibly beautiful.”

  I breathe, looking from his face to the picture frames. They’re both small desk-size frames, and the photos they contain are black and white. The first one a very sensual shot of me lying on a chaise lounge, a sheet arranged over my body in such a way that it’s clear that I’m wearing nothing underneath. The other one is more conservative. I’m fully dressed, but it’s still a sexy pose.

  “When you’d said you’d spent all that time looking at my pictures from the beach, I just thought… I wanted to…”

  He stops me. “They’re perfect. I could look at them all day.”

  I grin. “Which one in particular?”

  “Both of them,” He gives me a teasing smile. “Though…” His eyes go back to the first picture. “You have a dirty mind, don’t you.”

  I chuckle, watching as he reluctantly tears his eyes from the frames and sets them down beside him. He pulls me into his arms. “I love your dirty mind,” he says.

  “And I love your dirty mouth, your dirty hands...” I dig my fingers into his silky hair, loving the feel of the lush strands.

  He suddenly pulls back to look in my face. “Who took these?”

>   I raise a brow. “Does it matter?”

  He chuckles. “My jealousy is so obvious, is it?”

  “It’s a little charming actually,” I say with a shrug. “It was Chadwick Black. He’s a photographer we work with at Gilt, and, before you ask, both his photographer’s assistant and his PA were there throughout the shoot. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Landon laughs, then he rises suddenly, with me still in his arms. I place my arms around his neck for leverage while he carries me up the stairs to his bedroom. He sets me down on the bed and leans over me, reaching for the buttons on my top. “I’ve been thinking about undressing you all day.”

  I giggle. “I hope you managed to get some work done. Those hotels won’t run themselves.”

  He smiles, pulling the top apart to expose my bra. “I tried.”

  I help him shrug it off my shoulders before reaching for his shirt and getting rid of that too. I run my fingers over his chest, trailing over the hard muscles. “How did you get to be so perfect?”

  He smirks. “I was born this way?”

  “You need to learn some humility,” I say, pushing him back on the bed. He lays there, his head resting on his hands while I undo his fly. “Do you remember that first night?” I’m smiling. “Take off your clothes,” I murmur, mimicking his voice, “all your clothes.”

  “Is that supposed to be me?” Landon laughs. “I don’t sound like that.” He raises his hips to help me pull down his pants. “I was trying my best to keep it cool that night. I wanted to devour you.”

  “You were hot,” I confess.

  He winks. “I know.”

  I toss his pants aside, then stretch out on top of him, my face on level with his. “I’m not going to make love to you if you keep talking like you’re so smooth and perfect.”

  His hand caresses my back. “What if I beg?”

  “I might reconsider.”

  He lifts his head and covers my mouth with his, slowly licking at the seam of my lips. I kiss him back, enjoying the feel of his lips, the taste of his mouth, his tongue, mating with mine. He rolls, still holding me, so that I’m beneath him, and releasing my lips, he undoes my skirt and pulls it down, tossing it in the direction I threw his discarded pants. He trails his hand up my thigh, playing with the lace edge of my panties before moving up to draw a line up the strap of my bra.

  I raise my upper body off the bed to allow him to undo the undergarment, then lift my arms so he can pull it off me. He tosses it, and his eyes settle on my breasts. I love the way he looks at me, as if I’m the most beautiful person he has ever seen. It makes me feel more beautiful and loved than I ever thought it was possible to feel. He palms one of my breasts, his thumb flicking over the nipple, his eyes fixed on the pink bud as it hardens and peaks, the look of rapt attention on his face feeding every feeling of vanity inside me.

  I raise myself from the bed, pushing him gently, so he falls on his back. “I want you like this,” I whisper, reaching for his briefs and pulling them down his legs. I reach for him, feeling the warm, velvety hardness of his cock in my hands. He moans when I stroke him, a low sound from deep in his throat. Giving him a small smile, I lower my head to lick the head of his cock, swirling my tongue around it and luxuriating in his guttural moans of pleasure.

  I pull him deep into my mouth and his eyes close, his fingers flexing on the bed. I suck him hard, loving the effect I have on him, the reactions my touch evokes. His hips flex and one hand reaches for my hair, his fingers smoothing the strands as he whispers encouragements.

  “Just like that, baby,”

  “Right there, Rachel.”

  “Oh, Fuck!”

  I love the sound of his voice, the edge of arousal and helpless desire. Sucking hard on the head of his cock, I stroke my hand up and down his length, watching as his eyes close and his lips part. His feet press into the mattress and his hips start to move, encouraging me to take him deeper into my mouth. There’s nothing as arousing as watching him come to pieces because of my touch.

  “You’re killing me,” he groans harshly.

  In response, I make my movements faster. I hear him curse, and in the next moment, he rears off the bed, pulling me off him and coming up behind me on his knees. He grabs hold of the waistband of my panties and pulls, getting them down to mid-thigh before leaving them hanging there. Aroused and ready, I lift my hips to meet him, my arms braced on the bed. His fingers stroke my buttocks then move between my legs to feel how wet and slick I am for him.

  I wait as he positions himself, my body trembling and expectant. He presses his cock into the entrance to my body, rubbing it, stretching it gently before pushing in, so slowly and sweetly that I let out a long moan, almost like a purr. He’s so big, so hard, so sweet, and so perfect.

  He doesn’t move, at first. His hands grip my hips, his fingers gentle but firm on my skin, his cock hot and throbbing inside me. Then he pulls out slowly, almost to the tip, before thrusting in again.

  My fingers dig into the sheets, and I press my face onto the soft, fragrant cotton, my moans flowing into the fabric as he fucks me. He takes his time, each thrust angled just right and delivered with the perfect force to make me feel the utmost pleasure. He rolls his hips, aiming for the most sensitive spots, taking my moans as encouragement, his hands palming the soft flesh of my buttocks as every stroke drives me closer to an explosive climax.

  My body starts to tighten, surrendering to the pleasure. I hear myself moaning incoherently, all my senses enslaved to the ecstasy, the uncontrollable sweetness spreading from between my legs. I hear Landon groan, his control starting to unravel as his movements quicken.

  “I’m going to come,” I hear him say. His voice is rough, ragged. “Oh fuck, Rachel.”

  I cry out as my body seizes, leaving me momentarily breathless. The pulses of my climax milk him until his own orgasm is over, and afterward, he stretches out on top of me, both of us breathing deeply, our skin misted with sweat.

  “I fucking love you,” he whispers into my ear.

  I breathe into the sheets. “I fucking love you too.”

  WE both doze off for a while, before getting up to prepare for our dinner date. I wear one of the many outfits he got for me, an off-the-shoulder black dress with green accents that match my eyes, and heels in the same color.

  I’m standing at the dressing room mirror looking at my reflection when Landon comes behind me to drop a kiss on my neck. I lean my head to the side to give him more space as my eyes meet his in the mirror. Even though I know he’s mine, just looking at him still takes my breath away.

  He lets his lips trail down to my shoulder, causing a small shiver to pass through me, then he takes my hand and gently fastens a bracelet around my wrist.

  I raise my hand to look at the light gold chain, with glittering green stones linked into the metal. “It’s beautiful, Landon.”

  “It reminded me of your eyes,” he says.

  I turn to face him, my eyes searching his. “You’re spoiling me.”

  He takes the hand wearing the bracelet in his. “Do you like it?”

  I nod.

  “Then that’s all that matters.”

  Our reservation is at an intimate restaurant with lovely service and even lovelier food. Landon is smiling and charming, his attention all on me. We talk about everything, and in every second, with every question he asks, every response he gives, with the way his eyes linger on my face, and the way he takes every opportunity to touch me, he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

  AFTER dinner, we return to Landon’s apartment, where I fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, and it’s the perfect end to a beautiful evening. I sleep peacefully, until his muffled shout jolts me awake a few hours later, and even before I turn on the bedside lamp to see him thrashing, straining, his tortured voice muttering a garbled version of my name, I already know that he’s having another nightmare.

  I reach for his shoulder, calling his name just as he lets out another pained moan.
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  “Landon.”

  His body jerks off the bed, his eyes snapping open, their expression wild until they focus on me. The look of relief that washes over him is overwhelming to watch.

  “Oh God!” his voice is shaky. He reaches for me, taking me into his arms as his chest rises and falls. His skin is damp¸ even though the room is cool. “You’re here.”

  “Always.”

  He sighs and pulls me tighter, burying his face in my hair. I put my arms around him, my brow furrowed. What would it take to enable him to move past whatever demons still haunted his dreams? I’d mentioned therapy to him before, and he told me that he’d seen people throughout his teens. Would he consider trying again?

  “You’re here,” he whispers again. Why wouldn’t I be? I think back to the last time he’d dreamed of the accident, that last night in San Francisco. He’d dreamed that it was me in the car, that it was me he couldn’t save. I’d assumed then, that it had something to do with his fear of hurting me.

  Was he still afraid?

  I stroke his back while his breathing slows to normal, then he pulls back and gazes deeply into my eyes. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  I shake my head, searching his face and trying to read his expression. “How bad was it?”

  He shrugs, “It was just a nightmare.”

  “I know, but… do you want to tell me about it? It seemed pretty rough.”

  “There’s no need,” he says, dismissing my concern. “Go back to sleep.”

  I try to, but I’m worried, especially when I feel him get up soon after, leaving me alone on the bed. When he slips back in, hours later, it’s almost dawn. He wakes me with a lingering kiss on my lips, his hands stroking my skin with the particular expertise that soon chases all drowsiness from my mind. Somewhere in the back of my mind is the nagging thought that we should talk about trying to find a solution to his recurrent nightmares, but it soon disappears as I lose myself in the mastery of his touch.

  He enters me from behind, his body warm and hard against mine. “I love you,” he whispers in my ear, the urgency in his words, in the way he makes love to me, compelling me to put aside any doubts and just trust him.