RISE - Part One (The RISE Series Book 1)

by Deborah Bladon

  "I told you I could cook even if it was just a salad." He reaches forward to tenderly push a piece of my hair that had fallen onto my cheek behind my ear. "It's windy today."

  "It is," I say quietly. I don't want to turn and walk into the building that houses my office without saying something about the trust that I know he placed in me when he told me about his dad.

  After we'd finished our lunch in silence, he'd cleared our plates and then he excused himself to make a phone call. I'd stood and walked around the living room. As I did I studied all the pictures he had on display. I know that his father was an instrumental part of his life before he drowned.

  There were images of a young Landon dressed in a football uniform with his father's arm proudly draped over his shoulder. There was a small photograph hung on the wall of Landon's brother holding a birthday cake, the candles ablaze as his family watched.

  I'd scanned each picture carefully, soaking in the small details of his father's appearance. He was rugged and handsome. A slight beard covered his jaw too, his hair was longer than Landon's is now and a pendant, in the shape of a circle hung around his neck in each image. He was the epitome of what you'd expect any father would be. Strong, virile and happy.

  I realized quickly that there weren't any pictures of Landon's brother or mother recently. Each picture that was on display captured a moment set in time many years ago.

  "I'm sorry about all the questions." His eyes dart to the left to where a group of schoolchildren are approaching. "Your relationship with Ansel isn't my business. You're right."

  I feel an instant pang of regret for spitting those words out at him. "You were curious. I understand that. I'm sorry if I offended you but there's nothing left between me and him. That marriage proposal was a last attempt on his part but he knows, just as well as I do, that we're done for good."

  Another gust of unexpected wind brings his fingers back to my face. He cups both of my cheeks in his hands, pushing aside the wayward pieces of my long hair that are blowing in the breeze. "I'd like to see you again. Can I cook you dinner? Or we can go to a restaurant if you'd be more comfortable."

  He has the soul of a gentleman wrapped in a body made to fuck a woman senseless. If there's anything wrong with him, it's definitely not apparent to me yet. He can't be perfect. I know that, but he might be as close to ideal as anyone I've ever met. "I'd like to have dinner."

  "I'm leaving tonight for four days." He glances down at my watch. "I'll call you once I'm back in New York."

  I feel bereft at the thought of him getting on an airplane and jetting off to some faraway place. After what we shared today, I feel bound to him in a way that isn't about my body's desire to be with him intimately. It's more about a deeper connection. I can't tell him that. I need to play the part of the sophisticated woman who doesn't pine for any man. "I hope it's a safe trip."

  "You stay safe while I'm gone." He leans forward, his lips part and on that busy street, he leans down and kisses me softly.

  ***

  As much as I despise certain facets of the Internet, it provides a wealth of information that just can't be found anywhere else. After Landon kissed me goodbye and turned to walk down the street, I stopped in at the café that is housed in the same building as my office. I bought an iced coffee, and now an hour later as I finally take the last sip, I shift my gaze from my laptop's screen to my smartphone.

  My father has called me twice today to check in and both times, taking the call wasn't a possibility. The first time was when Landon and I were getting out of the cab on the street in front of his building. We had both stopped at the first sound of my phone's chime but I didn't move to answer it. He ignored it as well.

  The second call came less than five minutes ago. I was reading one of many archived news articles written about that summer day more than a decade ago in the water off Martha's Vineyard.

  Landon's father, Frederick, had rented a cabin along the shores of one of the many tourist hot spots for a family vacation. He'd taken his son out fishing late in the afternoon, and within hours, the beach was swarming with rescue personnel.

  The reporter who wrote one of the articles had interviewed Landon's younger brother, Dane, about the tragedy. He had been quoted as saying that he believed his father would make it. His dad never gave up and he knew, in his heart, that his father was clinging to a rock or a jetty waiting for rescuers.

  The articles continued for days with the mission shifting from a rescue operation to a recovery endeavor. Finally, after days of searching, the first responders went back to helping others and in the last article I could find related to the accident, there was a picture of Landon, Dane and their mother, spreading flowers on the shoreline as they accepted that the water had taken Frederick from them forever.

  It was an unspeakable loss forever documented in sullen pictures and words. It defined Landon and his family and as I think about the photographs I saw in his apartment that captured the bond he had with his dad, I reach for my phone to call mine.

  Chapter 12

  "You've outdone yourself, Tess." Gabriel scans the papers one last time before he looks up at me. "You've really impressed me."

  They're the words I've been holding my breath to hear since I walked into his office fifteen minutes ago. I'd handed him a file folder and had sat quietly in a chair waiting while he read everything. He didn't stop once. His eyes had scanned every note I'd made. His long, slender fingers had skimmed over the documents, stopping at where the projected expenses were. I'd held my breath then, part of me worried that he'd find fault in my presentation.

  "If this comes in at budget, it's a solid investment for us." He closes the folder. "I want you to move ahead with this."

  It's what I've been working so hard for. I've spent the last three days camped out in my office working on this proposal. I'd left each night, after midnight, to head home to nab just a few hours of restless sleep.

  I knew that I had only one chance to impress Gabriel and that meant hitting it out of the ball park. Judging by the slight grin that is pulling at the corners of his mouth, I think I passed with flying colors.

  "I added twenty percent to my final numbers for leeway." I point at the folder. "I expect we'll be under budget."

  He cocks a winged brow. "I'll look forward to seeing that."

  I fist my hands together. This is the only aspect of my job that I'm not completely comfortable with. Ironing out the details of what the project entails is what I love but when it comes to negotiating a fee for my services, I'm still not as confident as I want, or need to be. "I can sign a contract today."

  "I'll have my assistant draw one up." He leans back in his chair, crossing his long legs. "I'm willing to offer you ten percent more for this project than what we agreed on for the fashion show you handled for us a few weeks ago."

  My stomach knots. Gabriel Foster is a shark when it comes to business. The man hasn't built a clothing brand that is astronomically successful because he's overly generous. "I think twenty percent over my fee for the last event is more reasonable. The event in Los Angeles is more expansive and involved."

  I can tell by the faint rise of the corner of his lips that he's finding our negotiations amusing. "I'll agree to fifteen, Tess, and a bonus if you can keep this under the budget you presented here."

  I scratch my ear, remembering my father's advice to never seem too eager to accept anything being offered in business. "That's very fair, Mr. Foster."

  "I'll have someone send over the contract to your office later today." He stands, buttoning his suit jacket in one easy movement. "You'll get started immediately after signing?"

  I push myself up to my feet as well, taking a half a second to try and calm my breathing. "Yes. I'll get started right away."

  ***

  "Let's toast to your success." He holds his wine glass in the air.

  Let's fuck to my success.

  Those are the words that are sitting on the edge of my very wanting tongue. I swe
ar that Landon Beckett gets hotter each and every time I see him.

  He arrived back from London a few hours ago. You'd never know by looking at him. He's freshly showered, dressed in a pair of grey pants and a black dress shirt. His beard is trimmed and he smells like the perfect combination of soap, cologne and my perfume.

  He'd embraced me tightly when I arrived at his apartment with a bottle of wine in my shaking hand. I had melted into his arms, finally breathing a sigh of relief. I'd worried, in the brief moments, when I wasn't working, about whether he'd give thought to our discussion and would disappear because he felt he shared too much.

  When he called me earlier, I had rambled on about my meeting with Gabriel and the job in Los Angeles. He was complimentary, excited and insisted I come to his place for dinner.

  "Tess." He cups his hand under my elbow. "Let's toast to your new project."

  I nod, completely unaware of how to control my breathing.

  Am I panting? Please, don't let me be panting.

  "To the first," he begins before he leans down to brush his lips over my forehead. "To the second of what is sure to be many jobs for Foster Enterprises."

  I lift my wine glass in the air, tap it against his and take a small sip. It's delicious and I know that if I give in to my nervous desire, I'll finish this glass and another before he prepares whatever he has planned for dinner.

  He peers at me over the edge of his own glass. I watch as he elegantly takes a swallow. It's obvious that he moves the dark red liquid around in his mouth, stroking it over his tongue. I stare at the way he closes his eyes to savor its taste.

  He finally takes my glass from my hand, places it down on a table with his and reaches for my hands. "I know we don't know each other very well, Tess, but I'm proud of you. I knew you'd nail that meeting with Gabriel."

  I stare down at his hands as they softly hold mine. I can feel my body trembling. I know that he must sense it to. I pull in one heavy breath, hoping it will calm me enough that I'll be able to look at him without wanting to kiss him. "Thank you. I'm excited for the project."

  "Look at me." His voice is so close. "Look at me, Tess."

  I slowly pull my gaze up his shirt, noting how perfectly it molds to his body. I deliberately blink before I lock eyes with him. "I'm looking. It's hard not to look at you."

  I hear the chuckle that escapes him before I see his lips part. His hand leaps to my chin and as he leans closer a small growl flows from his mouth into me as he pulls me into a deep kiss.

  Chapter 13

  "Your body is perfect, Tess." His tongue lashes against my folds again. The sensation pulls a deep moan from a place within me that I never even knew existed. I bury my face in the soft, blue, sheets of his bed to try and temper the sounds I'm involuntarily making.

  He'd kissed me in the other room before he ran his hands slowly down my sides. He'd stopped to cup my ass and the low moan that fell from my lips had been enough to make him pivot on his heel so he could guide me to his bedroom.

  There was no rush to remove my clothing. He'd helped me step out of my dress, kissing my shoulders and neck before he unclasped the white bra I was wearing. He'd dove to taste my nipple, pulling the left swollen bud between his perfect teeth before he kissed his way to my right breast. He'd kneaded it so firmly that I'd reached down to quiet his grasp. He'd kissed the top of it then, stopping to suck on the nipple, pulling it to attention. It aches now, just as every other part of my body does.

  He'd then pushed me onto my stomach before he pulled my lace panties off. I've never been in this position with a man before and as I felt his strong hand cup my sex, he'd whispered that he wanted me to arch my body. I had.

  There wasn't any thought of being ashamed at how exposed I was. I didn't turn over to try and tempt him that way. I'd given him exactly what he wanted and as I turned my head to the side to watch him slide his clothes from his body, I'd felt nothing but desire.

  He's beautiful and strong. His chest is smooth and when my eyes trailed along his abs to his muscular thighs, my breath caught at the sight of his cock. It's as flawless as every other part of him and as much as I want to feel it inside of me, I want to know the pleasure that his mouth is giving me now.

  "Landon," I whisper his name into the sheets as he glides his tongue across my cleft.

  "You're so wet. You're so smooth."

  The words pull me onto my knees and as I push my wetness into his face, he grabs hold of my hips. I moan loudly, not caring that I sound wanting and needy.

  "That's it." I feel his mouth leave my core. "Give it to me. Let me eat you until you come for me."

  It's never been like this with a man. I've never let go so completely. As I push into him, I reach back to grab hold of his head, guiding it into my flesh.

  I jerk forward the second I feel his fingers enter me and as he circles my swollen clit with his tongue, I cry out from the force of the approaching orgasm. I grab tightly to the pillow that's under my head, pulling at it as if it's going to quell all the sensations that are claiming my body.

  I come hard. My legs shake so violently that I'm scared I'll fall forward. He holds tightly to me, licking me softly until my muscles settle.

  "Again, Tess." His fingers run hot over my folds, spreading me apart. "Let me taste you again."

  I can't. I can't form the words because every breath that I did have has fallen into the pillow with my cries of pleasure. I shake my head, hoping that he'll understand that my body is still on fire. If he touches me again, I'll be sent over the edge with an intensity that I know will overwhelm me.

  I whimper when I feel his strong hands grab hold of my hips. I cover my face when he flips me over easily and I wipe the tears away when he dives his tongue back into me sending me into another climax almost instantly.

  ***

  "You're paying me back, aren't you?" His voice is different. It's deeper and gruff. There's no breath between the words.

  I look down at him. The moisture resting on his top lip is a combination of my wetness and the sweat that's settled there as he's fought off his release.

  After he ate me a second time, he ripped open a condom package, and sheathed his thick cock. He'd pulled my legs apart, telling me that he'd go slowly.

  I shook my head, asking him to stop and without a moment's hesitation he had. He'd crawled up next to me, kisses covering the side of my face and forehead as he pulled me into his arms. I'd held onto him, wanting to look at his eyes but knowing that my own would betray the intensity that I still felt.

  When my breathing finally leveled, I'd pushed him onto his back, before I slid myself on top of his body. I'd mounted his face, wanting him to bring me back to the edge. He hadn't hesitated. He grabbed my thighs and licked me with the same fury he had earlier.

  I was close, so close, when I slid down his body and pulled his cock to my core. I held it in my hand and as I lowered myself onto it. He cursed between clenched teeth, his hands holding fast to the bed sheets.

  Now, as I rock back and forth, I pull him deeper with each thrust.

  "You're so tight." He closes his eyes, arching his back to gain more depth. "Fuck me harder, Tess."

  I groan from the request. I lean forward, resting my hands on his chest as I slide my body along his. I glide forward, then back, each time plunging myself onto him.

  "I'm so close." His eyes open slowly. "You're so fucking beautiful."

  I smile at the words, knowing that they're not grounded in his pleasure. It's different with him. I can sense how he sees me. His kiss and his touch can't hide it.

  His hands grip tightly to my hips, forcing me down onto his swollen cock. "I'm going to come, Tess."

  I want to come too so I reach down and lean back. I circle my clit with my index finger, honing in on the spot I know brings me the most pleasure. His eyes follow the trail of my hand and as he focuses on what I'm doing to myself, his cock swells within me.

  "Jesus, that's hot." He arches his neck so he can watch me. "
Keep doing that. Don't stop."

  I can't. I'm just as close to an orgasm as he is and as I throw my head back and pump myself against him, I cry out his name as I come just a second before he does.

  Chapter 14

  "I can put my own clothes back on." I yank on the hem of the t-shirt he gently pulled over my head after I got up from the bed. "I mean, I don't mind leaving if you have things to do."

  He closes his eyes briefly as he adjusts the dark sweat pants he put on. "I'd like you to stay."

  I smooth my hands over my hair. "I want to stay. I can stay."

  "Come with me then." His hand stretches out before me. "You can watch me while I make dinner for us."

  I take his hand, relishing in both the strength of his touch and the knowledge that he used it just moments ago to touch me. I want to tell him that it was an intense experience for me. I want him to know that it was a gift but I can't. I don't want him to see me as anything but mature, experienced and a woman he wants to be intimate with again.

  He stops before we exit the bedroom. He drops my hand, crouching down to help me step into my panties. I run my hand through his hair as a silent thank you for the thoughtful gesture.

  We move quietly through the apartment before he points to one of two leather stools that are sitting next to an island in the kitchen. I take a seat as he pours me a glass of sparkling water.

  "How was your trip?" I finally ask after taking a drink. "I should have asked that when I spoke to you on the phone earlier."

  He turns quickly from where his head has been buried in the refrigerator. "It was good. It's always good."

  If that’s the life of a pilot it's completely boring. It's not what I expected. I've never known anyone who worked as a pilot, but I've heard the rumors. "Do you ever hook-up with the flight attendants?"