by Serena Grey
“Did you think about this while you were at work?”
“Every minute,” I say with a sigh, rubbing myself against his fingers. He pulls my panties out of the way and touches my sex, stroking and rubbing with just the right amount of pressure.
My hips rise, and he pushes his fingers inside me, then he spreads them, seeking and finding the nerve endings guaranteed to send me over the edge. He rubs my insides leisurely, sighing when my walls contract around his fingers.
I reach for his cock, my fingers closing around the stiff length. He is rock-hard, like velvet over warm steel. “You’re so hard,” I whisper.
“Because I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
“Me too,” I tell him, with a sigh. “But I can’t wait anymore. I want you inside me.”
He groans at the words, and his fingers slip out of my sex. He pulls off my panties, then lifts me up, pulling me up by my arms so we’re facing each other, on our knees. He hugs my upper body to his, lifting me while with his free hand, he positions his cock between my legs, before letting my body slowly slide down till he’s completely sheathed inside me.
He holds me there for a few seconds, unmoving, my breasts pressed against his chest, my body filled with him. I squirm, my inner walls clenching around him, but he holds me still, whispering soft endearments in my ear, kissing my throat, my face, my lips.
I let out a desperate moan, my hips straining, trying to ride his cock, but he tightens his hold on me. One hand slides over my buttocks and cups my butt, kneading the soft flesh for a few delicious moments before his fingers slide between my cheeks. One finger rims the tight opening there, stimulating and teasing at the entrance before slowly sliding inside.
My whole body contracts with pleasure. I grind my hips desperately, groaning my need. Landon continues to tease me with his finger, rimming me from behind, while his cock throbs unmoving inside me.
“You’re so sweet,” he whispers. “I love being buried so deep in your hot pussy.”
I cry out helplessly, my body clenching, eager for him to fuck me, even as his teasing at my rear opening intensifies. “Please,” I beg frantically, desire driving me insane. “Please Landon, fuck me now, fuck me hard…oh God!”
His hips move, flexing hard, till I can feel the warm softness of his balls pressed against my wet center. Then he pulls out and drives in again, this time even deeper, his finger still stimulating me from behind.
All my senses are on overdrive. Everything is centered on his sweetness of his cock inside me, the decadent pleasure from behind, and my clit rubbing against him every time he thrusts hot and deep into me. I’m utterly helpless, all I want, all I need, is for him to go on fucking me. As long as he wants, anyway he wants, everywhere he wants.
And he does, thrusting into my pulsing body over and over, pushing me closer and closer to an insane height of pleasure. I surrender my senses to him, feeling nothing but the sweet sensations of his skillful touch.
My climax tears out of me with a tortuous cry and my whole body explodes. He continues to drive into me, until I come again, and again, and my whole body feels weak and spent, liquid and boneless. Only then does he let go of his control, his abandoned groan as he fills me with the heat of his climax spurring me to another final orgasm.
He falls back on the bed, me on top of him, sweaty and exhausted. I feel tender, but so suffused with pleasure that I’m practically floating. I fall asleep listening to his heart beat as his chest rises and falls. I love you, I say silently, inside my head. I love you so much.
His arm tightens around me, almost as if he heard, but when I wake up in the morning, he’s already gone.
I catch Laurie in the kitchen about to leave for work. She’s already made coffee and poured some in a travel mug.
“Lookee you all glowing,” she teases. “I would ask you about your night, but since I heard…”
“Shut up,” I mutter, pouring myself a mug of the steaming black coffee. “You let him in?”
“Yeah, he called me when he was on his way up,” she frowns. “He said he tried your phone a couple of times, but you didn’t pick up.”
“I was asleep.” I’d only seen Landon’s missed calls when I woke up to find him gone. “I wasn’t expecting him to come over. He told me he was working late.”
“Well, you kept him working late.”
I give her a threatening glare, but she grins, unfazed.
“How would you like to hit the clubs Friday night?” I ask. “Chelsea invited us.”
She shrugs. “Why not? If anybody ever needed that kind of fun, it’s probably me.”
“It’s not that bad,” I say encouragingly. “You know it isn’t. Brett’s probably hurting as much as you are.”
She doesn’t reply. She still hasn’t allowed him to explain about the girl from the deli. He’s probably taking it really bad that they might actually be at the end of their relationship. I’m tempted to plead with Laurie to give him another chance, but I’m not sure if it’s because I miss the familiarity of both of them together or because I really think he’s the best for her.
I get ready for work, and when I get downstairs, Joe is waiting in the car. I pause for a moment to admire the sleek lines of the obviously expensive vehicle. Do I really want to arrive at work every morning in a chauffeured CTS? That’s a conversation I might have to bring up again with Landon.
Before Joe can come around to open the door for me, I take the few steps to the car and pull the handle, then freeze in a mixture of pleasure and surprise when I see Landon waiting inside.
Grinning like an idiot, I join him in the back. “Hi sexy,” I drawl, admiring how mouthwatering he looks in his three-piece. He’s the quintessential image of the billionaire, as different from the uninhibited man who’d fucked me senseless last night as it’s possible to be.
“Good morning,” he replies, his gaze traveling over me like a caress.
“I dreamed about you last night,” I whisper, teasing his blue silk tie with the tip of my finger. “It seemed very, very real.”
He raises a brow. “If you thought for a moment that was a dream, then I have to work harder next time and make sure you’re really awake.”
Next time? I suck in a breath. “Are you going to make a habit of slipping into my bed?”
“I’m going to make a habit of going to bed with you every night.” He raises a hand to stroke my face gently, and I sigh. “Let’s have dinner at my place tonight,” he proposes, his hand finding its way to my thigh. The light caress is enough to make me wish we were anywhere else, somewhere private.
“Okay.”
“Will you spend the night?”
Would I? I hide my smile. I’d probably go back there with him right now if he keeps doing what he’s doing with his hand. “Yes, of course.”
“Come over straight from work,” he says. “Don’t bring anything.”
I frown. “Why not?” I’d have to go to work from his apartment. I would need a change of clothes at least.
“You’ll see,” he says cryptically, reaching into his jacket pocket to retrieve a keycard, which he hands to me. “We added some security measures at the hotel, but this will allow you access my apartment whenever you want.”
I take the card from him. He’s just given me the keys to his apartment. I don’t even know what to say. I want to ask if he’s ever given any other woman so much access to him. I want to hope that it means something. I smile and slip it in my purse. “Thank you.”
“I’ll leave for San Francisco on Thursday morning,” Landon tells me. He sounds regretful. “A plane will be here for you Saturday morning. I’ll have someone take you to the airport.”
Thursday to Saturday. Two whole days when I won’t see him. I swallow the ache, the twinge of sadness. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“To me being gone?” He’s teasing, and there’s a small smile playing on his lips.
“No…” I chuckle, “to joining you on Saturday.”
&n
bsp; He squeezes my hand. “Can you go out tomorrow night?”
“Yeah,” I search his face. “What’s happening?”
“A friend of mine.” He grins when I raise my eyebrows. “A friend of mine is launching a new product for the American market. Some new European champagne brand. There’s a mixer. I want you to come with me.”
I realize that there’ll probably be press there, people who’ll talk about the fact that I was there with him. I would be there as his girlfriend. If I still have any misgivings, any desire to hold back, this is my chance to make a U-turn.
“Of course.” I smile at him. “I’d love to.”
He smiles back. Joe slides into the front of the Gilt building and stops the car.
“Enjoy your day,” I whisper, placing a quick kiss on his lips before reaching for the door handle.
“Wait.” Landon’s hand snakes out and catches my arm. He leans forward and kisses me properly, for long enough that I can feel the shocks of pleasure in my toes.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he says.
I nod and stumble out of the car on unsteady legs. I can hardly wait.
AFTER work, Joe is waiting to drive me over to the Swanson Court. I send a quick message to Laurie on my way over, telling her I won’t be home all night.
At the underground car park, I thank Joe politely, before following the security staff who directs me towards the elevator. The card Landon gave me ensures that when I get to the penthouse floor, the doors slide open, letting me into Landon’s apartment.
I’m almost overwhelmed again by the size and beauty. Like the rest of the hotel, the architecture reflects the time when it was built, and the décor is luxurious, yet comfortable. After I go upstairs to leave my bag in Landon’s bedroom, I come back to the living room to look more closely at the pictures of Landon’s family. I’m charmed by a photo of Landon as a tow-headed but serious-faced child, and one of the whole family laughing at the beach.
Later, I wander to the balcony, then back inside to place a call to the hotel restaurant. I order dinner on hotplates for when Landon arrives. After that, there’s nothing else to do but wait for him, so I lay on one of the sofas. To stop myself from sleeping off, I start to play with my phone.
I still get emails from the search alert I set up for Landon, but I’ve been ignoring them for the most part. At first I didn’t want any reminders of him, and then later, I was determined to avoid something that felt very much like spying on him. Now I see that another alert has popped up, and out of curiosity I decide to open it, thinking it might be the picture Chelsea was talking about.
The first news story is about the Swanson Court Hotels, and I frown as I read the first paragraph describing how Landon is opening the Gold Dust amidst rumors and accusations of coercion in the acquisition of properties.
The publication is a reputable online news source, so I know it’s not just gossip. I frown, wondering how serious the accusations are, and why Landon hadn’t let on that there were any problems.
The next story is older, on a gossip site, and there’s a grainy picture of me and Landon at the airport from Sunday, with a headline screaming about billionaire Landon Court and his ‘companion.’
I’m still laughing about that when I open the next story. This one is newer and has two images with no accompanying write-up. In one of the pictures, I see Landon and some woman in front of the SCT Building. The second one has Landon and the same woman having dinner at a restaurant. In the first shot, Landon is holding a car door open for the woman, and she’s smiling up at him. In the second one, their faces are close together and they’re both laughing, her hand on his arm. I look for the date of the article and my heart goes cold. It’s from yesterday.
I stare at the woman’s face, trying to remember if I’ve ever seen her before from all the other articles I’ve read about Landon, but I can’t recall the face from anywhere. The quality of the images is not so good, but from what I can see, she’s beautiful, with glossy black hair hanging halfway to her back, and full, red lips. I close my eyes. Last night, when he’d said he was working late, he’d been meeting with this woman.
He’d lied to me.
And then he came to my apartment. My memories from last night are so clear that I can still feel him slipping into bed with me, freshly showered, after spending his whole evening with her.
I’m suddenly trembling. The thought of Landon leaving me, at some remote date is something I’ve schooled my mind to expect and accept, but the idea of him being intimate with another woman, while lying to me and making me feel like I matter to him…
It’s not something I can bear.
I try to breathe, to stay calm, but I’m helpless against the deep clawing desperation threatening to drown me, the realization that I’m be nothing more than a temporary indulgence, a plaything.
I allowed him to suck me back into his life. I buried my head in the sand and developed a false sense of security. Now every intimate moment we shared seems like a lie.
Feeling like I’m suffocating, I leave the sofa, going towards the elevator waiting in the foyer. At first I just want to leave the apartment, to go outside, where I can escape the surroundings that are so full of him.
When did dinners with beautiful women become ‘working late?’ What kind of egotist was he, if he’d gone out of his way to pursue me, only so he could lie to me, and show me that I meant nothing to him?
At the ground floor, I hurry through the front lobby. Under the awning over the sidewalk, the doorman gives me a questioning glance, as if wondering whether to call me a cab. I ignore him and start walking. It’s just beginning to get dark, and the air is changing, getting colder.
I pass several buildings, blind to everything but the worst of the possibilities playing through my head, making me want to cry. I don’t consciously start walking towards home until I realize that the only thing I have with me is my phone. I have no money, no keys to my apartment, even the keycard Landon gave me is back at his place, so I can’t go back to get my things.
There are other people on the sidewalk, some meandering, others walking with purpose. I blend into the crowd, my face down, my eyes teary, wondering if the pleasure of being with Landon is worth the pain I’m feeling.
How much did I really mean to him, if he could lie to me just so he could spend time with someone else?
I’ve been walking for a while when my phone rings. I switch it off without looking at the screen, not confident of my ability to have a rational conversation, especially with Landon.
I remember my mom’s advice. It should never be about the man, she’d said, but about how he makes you feel. Right now, I feel like crap. The lack of certainty, the inevitability of heartbreak, the depth of emotion I feel that I know he’ll never return… it hurts. It wounds me in ways I never thought possible.
Yet being without him wounds me more.
I don’t want to be stuck in this state forever, wanting more than he could give, unable to ask for it, and yet unable to walk away.
But what could I do?
I walk for what seems like hours, although it can’t have been that long. When I reach home, my legs are aching as much as my heart.
Landon is standing on the sidewalk in front of my building, his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes scanning the street. They settle on me as soon as I turn the corner, and I see his expression change from tense anxiety to profound relief.
He rushes towards me. “What happened?”
The desire to walk into his arms wars with the desire to walk away. He places soothing hands on my shoulders. “What happened?” he repeats softly.
That’s when the tears start to fall.
Landon hugs me tightly, then retrieves a white handkerchief from his pocket and wipes my face. “I got home and you’d left, but your things were there.” He looks at me, concern etched in his features. “What’s wrong?”
In the face of his tender concern, it’s hard to tell him that I walked out from his apartmen
t because I saw a picture of him with another woman. Suddenly, I feel immature and foolish.
I breathe “I…”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I step away from his arms, trying to regain my composure. “Where were you?” I ask softly. “Where were you last night?”
Landon frowns. “Where was I?”
“You told me you had meetings, but I saw a picture of you, having dinner with some woman.”
His whole body seems to stiffen. “You what?”
“I saw you,” my voice sounds small and petty, even to me. Why had I not considered that he would be here, waiting for me? I breathe. “I saw you with your dinner date, and you looked like you were having a good time.”
He looks hurt and confused. “And you left?” he exclaims, his voice sounding incredulous. “You didn’t think you needed to ask me about it before walking away?”
I close my eyes. “You lied to me about where you were last night. Maybe I didn’t want to wait to be lied to again.”
He laughs, and it’s a frustrated, angry sound. “I didn’t lie to you. I had meetings. I had a meeting with her, just like I had meetings with other people over the course of the day. I decided to conclude our meeting over dinner to save time. Are you satisfied, or would you like a fucking list of every single person I spoke to yesterday?”
I feel as if he slapped me. “I’m not supposed to care that you were out with someone else when you told me you’d be working? I’m not supposed to care that you didn’t think to mention it to me until I saw it online? Fine then,” I shrug. “I don’t care.”
He glares at me, then turns away, pulling out his phone from his pocket to make a call. “You can come back now,” he says curtly before disconnecting and making another call. “She’s here,” I hear him say, then after a pause. “No, she’s okay.”
He pushes the phone back into his pocket and glowers in my direction. “Do you realize I had my driver searching the streets for you? Do you realize your cousin was worried about you? You preferred to take a walk across the city, at this time, alone, because you saw a picture online. For fuck’s sake, Rachel! Do you know what could have happened? How would I ever fucking forgive myself if anything happened to you?”
