by Serena Grey
Aidan is dancing with a lovely girl in a pink dress. He sees me and waves. I wave back, feeling sick.
You can leave anytime you want.
The clear dismissal replays in my mind. I watch Landon continue to navigate the room, I watch him talking and laughing. I watch as Ava approaches him and they dance a slow dance. That’s when I decide that I need to leave. I make my way to the doors, numb, moving past the few people already leaving. I make my way to the elevators, wishing as I leave the sounds of the party behind, that it was somehow possible to shed all my feelings and memories as well.
YOU can leave anytime you want.
The words follow me back to the suite. Like an evil, taunting chorus in my head.
My hands are shaking as I undress. I toss the dress and accessories in my suitcase. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I want to leave. I want to go somewhere far. Somewhere with no link at all to my life as it is now, where I would have the slightest chance of forgetting about Landon.
In the bathroom, I put on a robe and scrub the makeup off my face. My eyes stare back at me, wide and peaked, aching from the effort of trying not to cry.
We can’t work. I’d always known that. I’d known it the last time I walked away, but I’d been so weak, I’d let him draw me back into this... whatever it was we had. Now I was going to go through the hurt of losing him again. What option did I have? I couldn’t separate my emotions from the reality of our situation, just as he couldn’t be the man I wanted him to be. I could never be sure, that he was all mine.
I return to the bedroom, but I stop at the door. Across the room, Landon is standing at the doorway from the hall, looking at my suitcase on the bed. He lifts his eyes to mine, and the pain there slices through my chest. “You’re actually leaving,” he states, as if he didn’t quite believe it before.
I close my eyes. “Yes.”
A few seconds of silence pass. I imagine the party downstairs, winding down without him. I wonder if he’ll try to stop me, and if I’ll have the strength to resist him.
“When do you want to go? Tonight?” His voice is suddenly dispassionate. “Have you called Tony?”
I shake my head.
“I’ll let him know you want to leave. He’ll have a plane waiting for you for whenever you’re ready. His eyes go to my suitcase again. “Do you want me to leave?” he says, “I can arrange for another suite if you’d rather not have me around.”
I shake my head, fighting an overwhelming urge to cry. “No... Don’t. You don’t have to go.”
He nods and walks away without another word, leaving me trembling. Would he leave now? Go back to join the party? Maybe end up somewhere with Ava…
I sit on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. I’m so confused. On one hand, I know I’m doing the right thing. For myself, even for him.
But on the other hand…
Tears fill my eyes. My mind flashes with all the moments of tenderness from the past two weeks, every moment when he’d made me fall deeper and deeper in love with him.
Tell him how you feel.
My mind recoils from the idea. I hear jack’s voice in my head, the day I told him that I loved him, all those years ago, the brutal dismissal with which he’d rejected me.
I’ll die if that happened with Landon. I just know that something inside me will wither and die.
If you don’t tell him, he’ll never know.
And I’ll always wonder. I breathe. I needed to be brave. If I tell him, and he rejects me, then I wouldn’t be able to fool myself anymore. I’d have to move on because there would be no other alternative.
Outside the bedroom, the hall is empty, and so is the other smaller bedroom in the suite. The living room is also empty, dark and silent.
I start to panic, imagining him going to spend the night somewhere else, with someone else.
Then I notice the breeze and the curtains billowing from the open glass doors to the balcony.
I approach uncertainly, suddenly not sure about what I want… what I have to say. Pushing the curtains aside, I step out into the cold night air. Landon is standing by the railing. He’s no longer wearing his jacket, and his shoulders are broad, but hunched in his white dress shirt. He has a drink in one hand, his face turned towards the many lights of the city.
As I watch, he raises the glass to his lips, then places it carefully on top of the railing. He makes a sound, like a sigh, then straightens and runs a hand through his hair. He looks dejected, and so alone that it’s heartbreaking to watch. I take a deep breath.
“Landon.” My voice is so low, I’m surprised that he hears it.
He turns, so fast, his face coming alive with intense emotion that disappears in the space of a second. He turns back around without saying a word, and I watch as he picks up his glass again and takes a long drink.
I take a step forward, but his voice stops me.
“What do you want?” He sounds as cold as ice.
“I have…” I falter. “I wanted to talk.”
His laugh is mocking and bitter. “You’ve already said it all. We don’t work.” He turns to face me again. “What else is there to say?”
“Landon…”
He shakes his head, “Stop. Rachel. Just stop it.” His eyes hold mine, intense and burning. “I’m done,” he says. “I’m sick of the mixed messages, the drama…” he laughs again. “You always have an excuse to walk away, no matter what I do. I get the message now. You’ve proven beyond any doubt that you’re out of my reach…” he sighs. “You really should leave,” he says. “I intend to get well and truly drunk tonight.”
He starts to turn away, his hand reaching for the glass again.
“I love you.” The words burst out of my lips, soft enough that I can almost convince myself that I didn’t say them, but loud enough to make Landon stop in his tracks. He turns slowly, facing me with an uncomprehending frown. I close my eyes, and when I open them again, he’s still looking at me. My heart is pounding, my chest heaving as I search his face for a reaction, waiting, hoping, and praying that I won’t regret what I’ve just done.
“I love you,” I repeat, slower this time. “I’m in love with you.” I look away from the blaze in his eyes, my gaze falling to his chest. “I have since that week we spent together. I… I didn’t want to fall in love with you, and I didn’t plan to, and it has hurt…” my voice breaks, but I continue. “It has hurt every day, knowing you don’t feel the same way.” I meet his eyes again. He looks as if he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. I swallow. “I just… I thought it would be easier if I let you go.”
His brow is creased. I breathe, unnerved by his silence, by the lack of a reaction. “I didn’t want something that at best was just a prolonged hook-up. And now I don’t want a relationship that has no chance of becoming something more, because I won’t be able to bear it.”
His eyes close, and my heart breaks as I feel the wave of regret emanating from him. This is where he’ll tell me that he’s sorry, that he doesn’t feel the same. I clench my fingers, at least I’ve told him how I feel. Whatever happens from here on, it’s up to him.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I say softly, even though my heart feels shredded. I didn’t expect him to tell me that he felt the same way, but the reality hurts. It hurts so much.
But I’ve bared my heart to him, and the pretense is gone, along with the weight of having to live a lie every second I spend with him. I no longer have to pretend that what we have is enough. Even if I lose him now, I won’t blame myself.
“I’m not asking anything from you,” I continue. “I already know how you feel about commitment. I just wanted you to know the truth. I love you. That’s the only reason why I ever walked away. I knew it was the only way I would have a chance to get over you. ”
His eyes are still closed, and I wonder if he’ll say anything. Maybe he won’t. Maybe it would be easier for the both of us if I left now, instead of forcing him to acknowledge everything I’ve said.
I start to turn back towards the door.
“Rachel…” I pause, surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice. His eyes are shiny as he takes a step towards me. “Don’t go.”
Don’t go. I draw in a shaky breath. That’s not what I want to hear, but it’s something. My eyes fill. “Landon…”
“Don’t go,” he repeats. “Please.”
I nod, then I take the few steps to where he’s standing and wrap my arms around him. “I love you,” I whisper again, strangely elated by saying the words out loud. “Nothing is ever going to change that.”
I feel his chest expand, rising as he takes a deep breath. “You have no idea how afraid I am of hurting you.”
I lift my face to his. I’m already hurting. I’ve been hurting since the moment I realized that I’d fallen in love with him. Could it ever hurt worse than it already has in the past, or worse than it does right now? I don’t think so.
I place a soft kiss on his lips. “You won’t,” I whisper.
I feel him tremble. His hands come up to circle my arms, and they’re shaking too. I pull back and smile sadly at him, memorizing all the lines of his face, every feature that I love.
“I love you,” I whisper again, reaching up for another kiss. This time he kisses me back, his tongue stroking mine with a heat and urgency that makes me forget my pain. I run my fingers through the silky strands of his hair, filling my senses with his touch, giving in to my desire for him.
Landon releases my lips, then holds me against his body for a long moment. I rest my head on his shoulder. I’m glad, I think fiercely. I’m happy and grateful for every single moment I’ve spent with him, and no matter what happens, I’ll never regret it.
I raise my face to his. He still looks shaken, almost afraid, and in his eyes, I can see him struggling against whatever emotions are raging in his mind.
I stroke his hair. “Stop thinking,” I urge gently.
He doesn’t reply. I lift my lips and kiss him again. He sighs and raises his hand to my nape, kissing me back. I reach for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them so I can slide my hands over his chest.
“Rachel…”
I shake my head. I don’t want him to hesitate. I want this. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.
He kisses me again, this time, more deeply. I moan against his mouth as he undoes the tie of my robe, reaching inside it to stroke my heated skin. I shrug it off and press my body against his, not caring that we’re out on the balcony. He’s already hard against my belly and thigh. I grind against him, and he groans, cupping my butt and lifting me off my feet.
I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him carry me inside, still kissing me. We make it to the living room before he lays me on the soft carpet, kneeling over me. He spreads my robe and leans down, drawing a nipple into his mouth and sucking deeply through the lace of my bra. My body arches in pleasure, lifting towards him. He slides one hand between my legs, palming me over my panties and rubbing me gently. My hips roll, my whole body clenching with the need for more.
I cry out when he moves his hand away, waiting breathlessly when he reaches behind me for the fastening of my bra and deftly removes the lacy undergarment. Then his hand slides back between my legs, inside my panties and between my folds, circling over my clit before sliding down to rim the entrance to my body.
The pleasure is intense. He lowers his head to my chest, licking the soft, sensitive skin of each breast before sucking on my nipples. I moan breathlessly, my skin misting with sweat as his touch drives me nearly insane.
Still touching me, he licks a path from my breast up to my ear. I feel his tongue in the underside of my earlobe, teasing and tasting. The pleasure brings tears to my eyes, and I reach for his face, pulling him close so I can suck on his lip. I thrust my tongue inside his mouth, trembling when he responds with a low groan.
He raises his head, and for a moment, he’s just looking down at me. My eyes are unfocused with pleasure, especially when he chooses that moment to slide his fingers into my body, finding the most sensitive spot inside me and rubbing gently.
“What do you want me to do?” His voice is whisper soft. “What should I do?”
Through the fog of arousal in my brain, I know he’s not asking about right now, but at this moment, all I want is to surrender myself to his touch.
“Don’t stop touching me,” I tell him.
His fingers plunge deeper inside me, spreading to stimulate my inner walls, while his thumb circles my clit, massaging it until I can’t take it anymore. His lips cover mine as I cry out, my body rippling with the pleasure of my orgasm.
Lost in my post-orgasmic haze, I don’t remember much about being carried to the bedroom. I don’t remember him undressing me or putting me under the covers. But I remember his voice in my ear as I fall asleep.
“Don’t leave.”
ANOTHER one of Landon’s nightmares wakes me up. He’s moaning, his hands digging into the pillow he’s clutching tightly. The curtains are not fully drawn, and a little predawn light falls into the room from the sound proof windows, bathing his face with a muted light and showing me the tears glistening on his cheeks.
“Please,” I hear him whisper. “Please.”
I reach for him, gently stroking his hair. “Landon. Wake up.”
He reacts to my voice, a small frown appearing on his face. Slowly, his body relaxes and he opens his eyes. Intense relief washes over his features when he sees me.
“You’re here,” he breathes.
“I am,” I say with a small smile.
He pulls me towards him, positioning me to lay on his chest, then his arms come up around me. I relax into his warmth. “You were crying,” I murmur. “Was it worse than usual?”
He is silent. I raise my head to look at him, waiting for an answer.
“It was you,” he says quietly.
I frown. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s always my mother,” he says. “In the accident.” He meets my eyes. “This time, it was you, and I couldn’t save you.”
I close my eyes. Of course, he can’t save me. His love could, but he can’t give me that. “There’s no accident,” I breathe softly. “I’m fine. I don’t need saving.”
He looks as if he’s about to argue. I shake my head and rise to my knees, placing one knee on either side of him, I take his face in my hands. “Stop torturing yourself,” I tell him intently. “You’re not going to hurt me. I’m going to be fine.”
But am I? I push the doubts away as his hands close over mine, squeezing gently, as he lifts them from his face. “I already have,” he whispers.
I close my eyes. “Don’t think about that.”
He drops my hands and rears up so he’s sitting on the bed. Then he pulls me down to sit on his lap, facing him. His hands trail down my arms while his eyes hold mine.
“Say it again,” he says.
I know what he means. “I love you,” I whisper.
His chest expands, and he buries his face in the space between my neck and my shoulder.
My arms go around his neck, and he starts to kiss me on my shoulder. I sigh and lean back, giving him the space he needs to lavish attention from my neck to my breasts.
I lower my head, nudging his face up so I can kiss him. His lips close over mine, kissing me deeply while my hands slide over his muscled arms and his firm back.
His hands grip my waist, then slide up to cup my breasts, his thumbs working my nipples until I respond with a long moan. Then he starts to stroke my skin, from the sides of my breasts, up to my shoulders and down my arms. He looks at me, and even in the darkness of the room, I can see his eyes, and the conflict inside them. “I had no idea,” he says.
“I know.”
He kisses me again, then with his hands on my back, he rolls over, so that I’m lying on the bed beneath him. Supporting himself on his elbows, he lavishes kisses on my face, my neck, and my breasts.
Pleasure shoots through me, and I moan, heat spreading between m
y legs. I thread my fingers in his hair, trailing one hand over his shoulder and back as he kisses his way over my stomach. His lips trail a hot path down to the center of my thighs, then he nudges my legs further apart. My whole body is pulsing with a wild burning desire, waiting for his touch, and when it comes, the pleasure is almost unbearable. He licks me, slowly, sensuously, his tongue moving across my folds, licking between them, before moving up to circle sweetly around my clit.
My hips rock against his mouth, my hands gripping the sheet tightly. His tongue flicks around my clit, over and over, until I’m moaning uncontrollably. My body tenses, nearly over the edge, then his fingers are inside me, touching me with the expertise that knows exactly where to rub, where to stroke.
“Landon,” I beg, not even sure what I want. “Oh God.”
He continues, bringing me closer to climax. My body is writhing on the bed, possessed completely by the sensation of his tongue fluttering delicately on my clit. I can’t think anymore as my brain shuts out everything but the intense pleasure. Heat spreads from my core, taking over my body. My hips start to buck, and Landon grips my thighs, his tongue continuing the sweet torture even as waves of pleasure wash over me.
I cry out his name breathlessly, begging him to stop, to continue, I don’t really know. He releases my thighs, and hovers over me, positioning himself and lifting my legs around his waist, then he pulls me forward and pushes inside the sweet throbbing heat between my legs.
I look up at him, helplessly aroused, luxuriating in the feeling of him inside me, and in the fierce desire written across his features. His chest tightens, the muscles taut as he breathes deeply. Languidly, I reach up to run my fingers over the hard slabs of well-defined muscle, feeling them tense even further under my touch.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs, his eyes closed. “So good.” He slides deeper inside me, then flexes his hips, pulling almost all the way out, then in again.
Gripping the tight muscles of his butt, I urge him deeper. He catches my hands at the wrists and leans forward to pin them on the bed. Bracing himself, he surges inside me again, and I cry out, mindless with ecstasy. He picks up his pace, making love to me with an intensity that brings tears to my eyes, while murmuring my name, over and over, like a fervent prayer in my ear.
