by Kendall Ryan
I chew on my lower lip, turning the clock back a few more years. “We aren’t going to be babysitting, are we?”
His full-body laugh reverberates through me. “No more guesses. We’re just about there.”
A mile or two later, a giant complex emerges in the distance. I can see the words FAMILY FUN ZONE glowing in blue neon lights.
“Is that where we’re heading?”
“Bingo.”
As we pull into the parking lot, I count one minivan to every three youngsters sprinting across the blacktop, most of them waving fistfuls of tickets or carrying cheaply made stuffed animals.
“Are we legally allowed in a place like this without kids?”
He shakes his head at me before swinging open his car door to hop out. “Don’t worry, I called ahead. Adults like laser tag and arcade games too, you know.”
With my hand in his, we walk through the parking lot and up to the oversize doors with the words THIS WAY TO FUN! printed in big, goofy lettering on the front. One step inside, and we’re immediately met with that familiar arcade smell, a mixture of cheap pizza and socks. It’s as gross as it is weirdly comforting.
Landon was right. I already feel like a kid again.
“Where to first? The Family Fun Zone is our oyster.” He spreads his arms wide across the room of arcade games, and my eyes lock on two Skee-Ball machines near the back.
“Are you down for some Skee-Ball? I was practically a pro when I was twelve.”
He nods, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I’m game.”
We find a token kiosk, and Landon feeds it a twenty, filling a plastic cup to the brim with quarter-size gold coins. “This should last us a few rounds.”
“All I need is one round to kick your ass,” I tease, then instantly clap a hand over my mouth when I remember the word family is literally in the name of this place. “I mean, to kick your heinie.”
Landon chuckles as he passes the cup off to me. “I thought I’d escaped the horrors of that word.”
We maneuver through the maze of arcade games to the back, squaring up to a Skee-Ball machine. Two tokens bring it to life, causing the lights to flash and six balls to pour into the chamber.
Landon grabs one, turning it over in his hand. “I’m not used to games with balls. I’m more of a puck guy.”
“Well, what the puck are you waiting for?” I squeeze his side playfully, and he flinches, holding back a smile.
Note to self: My husband is ticklish. That may be useful info to have in the future.
The childlike joy in Landon’s eyes disappears for a moment, replaced by a look of pure concentration as he lines up his first ball and rolls it up the alley. It hits the cage with a clatter and comes flying back at him.
“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, but I can barely hear it over my laughter. His gaze sweeps from the blank scoreboard over to me. “This is harder than I thought.”
I hold out a hand, wiggling my fingers until he places the ball in my palm. Finding my stance, I focus my eyes on the prize and roll. Boom. Five hundred points.
His eyes narrow, skeptical. “Are you sure you haven’t played since you were twelve?”
I shrug, picking up a second ball and rolling it straight into the center target. “Once a pro, always a pro, I guess.”
With a laugh, he tugs me close to him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head and giving my ass a quick squeeze that’s hardly appropriate for a family-friendly arcade. “Well then, show me how it’s done, pro.”
I shamelessly use the excuse of teaching Landon how to play as an opportunity to hang on to his muscular arms, moving him through the best technique. The games fly by, and before long, our fingertips hit the bottom of the token cup. I let him take the last game, and when he finally sinks a ball into the 200-level target, I cheer like he just scored a game-winning goal. And by the way he’s beaming with pride, you’d think that’s exactly what just happened.
“Care to celebrate with some crappy pizza?” I ask, tilting my head toward the snack bar.
“How about we get out of here and I buy you some good pizza?”
“Deal.” I tear off the lengthy roll of tickets we earned and hand them off to a cute little girl waiting her turn at the racing game before following Landon out the door.
The place he has in mind, it turns out, is a cozy little wood-fired pizza place down the street. The hostess seats us right away, and without even looking at the menu, Landon orders for both of us—one Greek flatbread and one with prosciutto.
“I take it you’ve been here before,” I say, grabbing a slice of bread from the basket between us before nudging it toward him.
He nods, snagging a roll. “A bunch of us took Asher’s niece to play laser tag when his family was in town. We ate here after.”
“I didn’t know you got to meet Asher’s family.”
“Just a few of them. His family is enormous. You should meet his niece Fable. She’s a little spitfire, like a tiny version of you.”
“Oh?” I tilt my head, a smile creeping across my lips. “Are you calling me a spitfire?”
He holds up one finger as he finishes chewing. “Sure am. It’s one of the things I like most about you. Apart from your Skee-Ball skills, that is.”
“Oh, really? Is that all?” I ask, leaning in a little closer.
His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “I like your ass a lot too, especially the way it looks in leggings. But my favorite thing is the way you sound when you come.”
My cheeks flush with heat, but I don’t look away from him. “Are you ever going to let me repay the favor?” I ask in a low voice, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.
“Fuck yes. But only when you’re ready, because we’re doing this at your pace.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “Landon . . .”
“I mean it.”
Seriously, how is this man real?
By the time our pizzas arrive, Landon has already made me almost choke on my bread from laughing three separate times—all from stories involving the hockey guys taking Fable to the Family Fun Zone.
“I swear it, we didn’t let her win,” he says with a laugh, holding his right hand in the air. “She’s just actually that good at laser tag. But I don’t think Owen will ever live down scoring zero points.”
“I can’t believe this is the first I’m hearing of this.” I pull a piece of prosciutto pizza from the plate, helping myself to a hearty bite. Landon was right to take the reins on ordering. This is freaking delicious.
“Owen made us promise not to bring it up, but I have reason to believe Justin might be including it in his best man speech.”
I laugh. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m officially even more excited for that wedding now.”
It’s quiet for a moment as Landon drags a napkin across his lips, then takes a big gulp of water to wash down the four pieces of pizza he’s already put away.
“Speaking of the wedding, can I, uh, assume that you’ll be my date?” His eyes glisten at me from across the table, brimming with hope.
As unbelievable as this pizza is, I know without a doubt that the best part of this meal is his enormous smile when I say yes. I think Ana might be right. Either that, or she was just really good at bribing me via ramen noodles. Either way, my decision has been made. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to date my husband.
When our check comes, Landon swipes the bifold, tucks his credit card inside, and hands it back to the waitress. “So, where to next?”
I purse my lips, holding back the yawn I can feel coming on. “Am I lame if I say we should head home?”
“A little,” he says, pinching his thumb and forefinger together to demonstrate the exact size of my lameness. “But no worries.”
The waitress returns with Landon’s card, and he adds a tip and then scribbles something that sort of resembles a signature on the receipt before pushing to his feet. “Ready to go?”
Although I’ll never be ready
for this night to end, I push to my feet and follow him back to the car.
Outside, the sun has barely set, leaving the sky a gorgeous shade of purplish blue. The whole trip home feels like driving through a watercolor painting, right up to the moment Landon stops in front of my building, his hand moving from my thigh to the gearshift to put the car in park.
I’m almost embarrassed by how much I miss his touch the second he pulls away. Yes, I’m sleepy. But being in a family-friendly environment for most of the evening means I haven’t so much as kissed Landon tonight. And I think we need to fix that.
“You can come in, if you want.” I try to make it sound like a casual suggestion, even when every inch of my skin is practically begging for him to get his hands back on me.
Landon’s thick brows push together as he studies me. “It’s your apartment, Bree. It’s not about what I want.”
He’s right, so I say, “Let me try that again. I want you to come inside.”
His perfect, plush lips form a crooked smile that just barely hints at his adorable dimple. “Then I’d love to.”
He hops out of the car and crosses around the front to open my door for me. It’s the kind of thing I’d normally put up a fight about, but I’m trying to be better about letting him take care of me in little ways.
We both seem to hold our breath as I fumble with the keys. Finally, I manage to get the door unlocked and lead us inside. Once the door closes behind us, Landon lifts my chin toward his, claiming my mouth with a passionate kiss.
The air around us feels heavy with expectation, and when I pull back and meet his gaze, my stomach clenches at what I see reflected back at me. There’s so much need brimming in his dark blue eyes.
Something is changing between us, and I’m not sure what to make of that. He’s opened himself up, shared personal details that I doubt many others know. And coupled with his intense interest in me, in us, it’s making me soften, making me feel things I didn’t expect.
I press my hands into his firm, wide chest, my fingers gripping his T-shirt. Lifting up on my toes again, I fasten my mouth to his in another slow kiss.
“Fuck,” he growls against my lips. “Been waiting to kiss you all night.”
He’s looking at me like he wants to devour me. There’s just one thing standing in his way. An insane amount of restraint. And even that is sexy as hell.
“Bedroom?” I whisper against his chest, my fingers still gripping his shirt.
Without a word, Landon scoops me up in his arms. My legs tighten around his waist as my lips trail over the rough column of his throat. He carries me a few steps, then stops in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my chest suddenly tight.
The slightest bit of pink creeps across his stubbled cheeks. “I, uh, don’t know where your bedroom is.”
My bubble of laughter mixes with his rumbly one in the most beautiful harmony I’ve ever heard. How did I forget that this is only his second time here?
“Down the hall to the left,” I manage to say through my giggles. “The room with the bed.”
With big, hurried strides, Landon carries me to my room, lays me gently across my duvet, and sinks down beside me. With all the patience in the world, he runs his palm along the length of my thigh. He brushes his fingers over the front of my jeans, and I jolt. His tender touches are going to be my demise. Resisting him is futile. Pointless.
When I press my hand over his zipper, Landon curses softly. His breath against my neck is deep, but rapid, and I attack his mouth with mine. He tries to slow the kiss down, to draw things out, but I’m having none of that. My pulse riots, and heat tears through my veins like wildfire. I want him. Need him.
When I caress the firm bulge in the front of his jeans again, Landon makes a breathless sound.
“Aubree . . .” He says my name like a warning.
We’re going too far. In over our heads. But I’m powerless to stop it.
Uncertainty swims in his blue gaze. His control is hanging by a thread, and I want to see it snap.
Lust fills his features, and dear God, if I thought he was attractive before, this is flat-out unfair.
“Why does this feel so good?” I say on a groan, my eyes meeting his hooded ones.
“This is all I’ve ever wanted,” he murmurs, the rough pads of his fingers touching my cheek. Even though he doesn’t say it with words, I can see the question reflected back at me.
Why can’t it be me and you in the end?
Heat rushes through me like a tidal wave, washing away all logical thought.
His eyes are desperate. I have no idea why this matters to him so much, but it obviously does.
My body wants him. My brain thinks this is crazy. My heart isn’t sure.
But when Landon slides his palm up my calf, my body wins out.
With deft fingers, he opens the button of my jeans and tugs them to the floor. And when he discovers that my panties are wet, his groan is filled with deep satisfaction.
“Good God, baby.” His fingers trail along the damp scrap of black lace, leaving me twitching. “So wet for me already.”
With a quick tug, my panties join my jeans on the floor, and his palms press against my inner thighs, which I ease apart. I feel so exposed, so plainly on display for him like this, and for a minute, I wish I’d turned off the lights. But then he levels himself with my center, breathing me in as he slides two thick fingers into my heat, and I know for sure that nothing has ever felt as good as this.
Gradually, he moves faster, crooking his fingers inside me to hit a softer, deeper spot. Just when I’m positive this couldn’t get any more heavenly, he brings his tongue to my center, sending a jolt of pure electricity through me. My hips buck with need, every stroke of his tongue bringing me closer and closer to climax.
“Landon, please.” I beg shamelessly, digging my nails into his shoulders as I teeter on the edge for a long, breathless moment. “I’m so close.”
He groans in approval against me, and in that moment, I completely let go. With one last desperate sigh, I freefall into him, tumbling harder and faster than ever before.
It takes a good, long moment for me to catch my breath. He is undeniably good at that. When he rises to his feet, he towers over me, and my eyes instantly lock on the erection pressing into the front of his jeans.
Propping myself up onto my elbows, I reach out one curious hand, stroking him through the denim. His eyes flutter closed, a low, satisfied hum building in his throat.
“Okay?” I blink up at him, enjoying the look of pleasure on his face.
“God, yes.” His voice is low and thick with an edge of barely restrained desire. It’s irresistible. All of him is.
With eager fingers, I unbutton his jeans, holding my breath a little as I shift his boxers out of the way to free his length.
Holy. Shit.
He’s huge.
If ever there was such a thing as a beautiful cock, this is it. Smooth, curving up ever so slightly. And what this man lacks in age, he makes up for in inches. I want to take my time with him, stroking and tasting every inch.
But not tonight. Tonight, I just want to make him come for me. He’s been so patient, after all.
Once Landon is free from his jeans and the black cotton boxers, he joins me on the bed, touching my shoulder, stroking my collarbone, kissing my neck as I curl my fingers around him. With a steady grip, my hand slides up and down his thick erection in long strokes. I can hear his heartbeat thumping inside his chest as he sucks in one shaky breath after another, watching me with hungry eyes as I move a little faster.
“Just like that, baby.” He tenses and twitches beneath my touch, his chest rising as he inhales. “Just like that. You’re gonna make me come.”
My eyes narrow, a sultry smile twitching on my lips as I watch his control start to waver. His hips thrust into my fist in uneven jerks. “Come for me, Landon.”
As if on command, he steadies one hand on my hip and lets go, jetting across
my stomach in wet, hot bursts.
It’s quiet for a moment as his breathing returns to normal, his eyes focused on the hand still pressed against the bed until he finally cuts through the silence with a soft exhale.
After pressing a thankful kiss into my forehead, he disappears into the bathroom, returning with toilet paper in excess to clean me up. “Sorry about this,” he mutters, wiping up his mess.
“Don’t be.”
Once we’re all cleaned up, I pull back my duvet, gesturing for him to crawl in with me. I don’t know if he wants to spend the night or not, but no way is he bolting out of here after that.
I sigh, nestling in under the covers. “I missed this.”
“What?” he asks, his voice harsh.
“Having a cuddle buddy.”
He tugs me closer. “Then get your hot ass over here, sweetheart.”
“You don’t mind cuddling? I thought most guys hated it.”
“That’s not true, is it?” He breathes against my hair.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a universally known fact. It’s one of those things that’s merely tolerated after sex.” I shift, bringing us closer. “And you don’t even get the benefit of that.”
“Well, maybe I’m not most guys.”
“Trust me, I figured that out.”
His arms feel so good and so solid around me.
“I like cuddling with you too,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s in the husband job description somewhere, isn’t it?”
I think he’s kidding, but his words put a tiny knot of worry in my chest.
Is that all I am to him? An obligation? Something that he’s trying to do the right thing by?
It’s a thought that stings more than I thought it would.
• • •
Landon
Aubree seems to have let go of her insecurities about our age difference, and the last thing I want to do is set her off again, so I hope my question won’t do that.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, stretching to bring one arm around her in the bed.
She nods, picking at a piece of lint on the duvet. “Go for it.”
