Addicted to You Read online

  Afterward, we all have lunch on the deck. The McLarens recommend a fresh seafood dish that’s really excellent, and we talk about Newport, the old private mansions now open to the public, and the tourists that troop in every summer. There is no more talk of business, even though it’s clear that the McLarens are hopeful that Landon will make a decision that favors them.

  Finally, Landon thanks them for their time and they walk with us to the entrance, waving goodbye as the valet brings the car around.

  On the drive back, Landon puts on some evocative instrumental music, and I close my eyes, drowsy from lunch. “What did you think?” he asks.

  I pause to gather all my impressions about the place. “It has a lot of potential,” I tell him, “but it feels so old. Like they’ve tried their best, but they don’t really know how to bring it up to date.”

  Landon nods, “You’re right. That’s the impression I got too.”

  “So,” I frown, thinking of the hopeful old couple. “What will you do? Will you invest in it?”

  He pauses. “Not if they want to keep running the place. It’s admirable that they’ve held on for so long because everything else out there is owned by corporations. That’s why I decided to see for myself, even though my team had already put up a red flag.”

  “Oh.” I don’t blame his team, but I can’t shake the image of the McLarens in my head. Maybe I’m too emotional for this business of making money.

  Landon continues. “If I’m going to put the Swanson Court name on the hotel and inject my money into it, they’re going to need new management, new ideas, and thorough refurbishment to make it less ancient and more...” he searches for a word.

  “Classic,” I offer.

  He looks at me and smiles slowly. “Exactly.”

  I listen as he talks about what he thinks the place needs. He’s incisive, calculating, thorough, and I’m glad that I’m seeing this side of him. Hotels are in his blood, I realize, but they’re also in his heart.

  “You’re so sexy when you talk shop,” I say after a while.

  He glances at me, a grin on his face. “Who knew? I’ll have to do more of that when I’m with you.” There’s a pause. “Thanks for coming today.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  He nods. “But I’m glad you were there, and that I can talk about my work with you.”

  It made me happy too, to be able to share that part of his life. “I’m glad you’re glad,” I tease.

  He laughs. “I’m going to make you dinner,” he offers. “What would you like?”

  I smile at him. “I’d eat anything you made.”

  “Okay.” He thinks for a moment. “How do you feel about grocery shopping?”

  The thought of him pushing a cart through the aisles of some grocery store is so incongruous with the image of Landon Court that I almost burst out laughing. However, he’s serious, and he soon pulls into the parking lot of a multi-chain brand.

  “Isn’t there someone who can do this for you,” I tease, “so you don’t like... injure yourself or something?”

  “You obviously think that I’m an invalid,” he says. “You’re wrong. Just watch me.”

  Inside the store, I watch him as he carefully selects from the offering of fresh produce, meat, and vegetables. When he lifts two bunches of celery and turns to me with a ‘What do you think?’ expression, I can’t resist taking a picture with my phone, I show it to him, almost doubled over with amusement.

  “Nobody would believe that was you.”

  He shrugs, and tosses one bunch into the cart. “Not forceful, ruthless, and single-minded enough,” he says.

  I recognize the words from some of the articles I’ve read about him, and I link my hand with his. “Well, at least I know what a sweetie you really are.”

  That makes him smile, and we walk together to the counter. I’m enjoying the fact that besides his insane good looks, and the commanding aura he effortlessly exudes, we could be any regular couple, out shopping on a Saturday night. There’s something infinitely pleasurable in the fantasy.

  Back at the house, I help him make dinner, mostly ogling him because he’s incredibly sexy even when he’s doing something as basic as cooking.

  We eat outside on the back patio, and afterward, we lie under a blanket on the large porch swing while Landon tries in vain to help me recognize the patterns in the night sky. When I keep laughing and insisting that I see nothing but random stars, he gives up and entertains me with stories from his college days instead. I fall asleep lying on his chest, his voice in my ear, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

  LANDON’S moans wake me up. We’re in the bedroom. He must have carried me there after I fell asleep. My eyes adjust to the dim light from the windows, but I can’t move, and I soon realize why. Landon’s arms are tight around me, his breathing fast, and his muscles as tense as if he’s getting ready to run or fight.

  “Let me go,” he mutters. The words are low and garbled, immediately followed by what sounds like crying.

  I try to move, but his arms only tighten as he struggles in his nightmare.

  “Landon,” I whisper, as close to his ear as I can get. “Landon, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

  My voice seems to reach him. His body stills and his face gradually relaxes, his breath slowing to a normal rate. I watch him go back to a peaceful sleep, wondering what I can do. I remember what he told me weeks ago. He saw therapists throughout his teenage years, if that didn’t help, what could?

  Landon’s eyes flutter open and he stretches his hand to switch on the bedside lamp. He sees that I’m awake, and a frown crosses his brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I reply, not sure that there’s any point in telling him that he’d been dreaming again.

  He studies my face for a long moment. “I woke you up with the nightmares, didn’t I?”

  I sigh. “Yes.”

  He takes a deep breath and throws his legs over the side of the bed, sitting with his back to me. He leans forward, burying his face in his hands, and then he pushes his fingers through his hair. I reach for him, wanting to place a comforting hand on his back, but he’s already getting up from the bed.

  I drop my hand back on my lap. “Where’re you going?”

  “I have some reports to read.” He doesn’t look at me. “Go back to sleep.”

  I can’t go back to sleep, and I don’t want to. Not when I’m worried about him. “You don’t have to go, Landon. We can talk about it if you want.”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

  I frown. “Don’t you? Or maybe you still think it’s none of my business?”

  He faces me, and the lost, haunted expression on his face makes me ache for him. “Landon,” I urge gently, “talk to me.”

  He comes back to sit on the bed and takes my hand. “You already know what the dreams are about. The accident. I watched my mother burn in that car, and I couldn’t do anything. Everything changed when she died. My whole family fell apart, my father became a shell, and my brother wouldn’t say a word. In my dreams, I want to save her. I want to save her so badly, and it feels like it would be possible if only I could get away from the person holding me back.”

  I squeeze his hand. I’d seen the pictures from the old newspaper reports. He’d carried his little brother out of the wreckage, but his mother had been unconscious, and when the car had started burning, some concerned observer had prevented him from going back for her.

  “Tell me about her,” I say quietly. “Your mother.”

  He doesn’t reply immediately, and his silence makes me wonder if he’d rather not talk about her. Then he sighs. “She was the most beautiful woman in the world, at least to the nine-year-old boy I was. She used to practice at home sometimes, and watching her dance was like watching an angel.” He pauses. “She had the softest, gentlest voice, and she liked to laugh.”

  He looks at me and smiles. “She loved Aidan, and she would play with him for hours, no matter w
hat kind of silly game he wanted. She loved to read too. My earliest memory is of her reading to me. I guess she also had a temper, especially when she fought with my dad. But he always knew what to say to her, how to remind her that she was the most important person in the world to him.”

  I listen to his voice, fighting back tears. “They sound like lovely people.”

  “They were,” he replies, “then the accident happened.”

  I touch his back. “Landon, there’s no shame in the fact that it haunts you. Most people would never forget if something like that happened to them. You survived. You saved your brother. You were strong for him. It’s something to be proud of.”

  He doesn’t reply. He’s still leaving, I think sadly. Why had I thought talking to me would be enough to heal him even of the slightest of his wounds?

  “I wanted to go back.” His voice is low, almost too quiet for me to hear. Unlike the last time he spoke to me about the accident, his pain is visible, almost palpable. “I didn’t want to leave.” He lowers his face into his hands again, then lifts it back up with a sigh. “I prayed so hard for anything to happen, anything to make us go back, at least until my father came back. I knew that once he arrived he’d make it up to her somehow. I didn’t know what I was asking for, just any reason for us to go back home and wait for my dad. Then something happened. We crashed.”

  I get up on my knees and put my arms around him from behind. “Landon,” I whisper soothingly. “You were a child.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” He laughs bitterly. “But it didn’t stop me from torturing myself for years.”

  I place a kiss on the cool skin of his shoulder, then get off the bed, sliding to my knees in front of him. “Look at me,” I whisper. “I’m glad you told me, but it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t wish the accident to happen. You were just a child afraid of his parents separating. I’m sure you made a thousand more wishes that didn’t come true. It wasn’t your wish that caused the crash. It was an accident.”

  He nods, silent.

  “Whenever you start thinking like that nine-year-old boy again, just remember how much you loved your mom. How no wish you made could have caused her any harm.”

  A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “Yes ma’am.”

  “I’m not joking,” I tell him.

  “Neither am I.” He pulls me up onto his lap. “You’re incredible,” he says. “An angel.”

  I nod, accepting the compliment in place of the endearment I know I’ll never hear from him. “You need to get back in bed. Get some sleep.”

  He lays me down on the bed and stretches out on top of me. “I know what I need,” he murmurs, rocking his hips against me so I can feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal, “and it’s not sleep.”

  “You’re insatiable,” I whisper, melting into him.

  “You’re irresistible,” he replies.

  I cup his face in my hands. I love you, I say silently, the words are burning a fever in my mind, and I press my lips against his, pouring all the desperation of my feelings into the kiss. His response is to wrap his arms around me and roll onto his back so I’m on top of him, still kissing him, with my legs straddling his hips.

  “You’re like a drug, Rachel,” he says when I stop for breath. “You make me forget everything. Everything apart from you.”

  I don’t reply. I’m also addicted to him. Trying to survive without him was like cutting out a part of myself, and the withdrawal symptoms had almost driven me crazy. “When I’m with you, I feel like nothing is missing,” I sigh softly. “Like everything finally fell into place.”

  It’s the closest I can say without actually telling him that I’m hopelessly in love with him. He pulls me towards him and claims my lips again, his erection pressing against the inside of my thigh. I pull away just long enough to gently guide him inside, sliding down until his full length is sheathed in me.

  His eyes cloud and his lips form my name.

  I close my eyes, almost unable to bear how good it feels. It won’t last, I think sadly, painfully aware, that being like this would never mean the same thing to him as it did to me. The sad thoughts make me determined to get as much pleasure as I can from him. I guide our movements, riding him hard, using the physical sensations to push all thought from my mind. Soon the pleasure is too intense for me to think at all. Landon rears up, gripping my hips, his lips greedily sucking on a nipple as I ride him faster and faster. We come at the same time, holding tightly to each other. There are tears in my eyes, from the exquisite pleasure, and also from the inescapable despair.

  WHEN I wake up in the morning, Landon is still asleep, I spend a few moments greedily drinking in his features before I go to the kitchen to try to rustle up a passable breakfast.

  Cooking is not one of my strengths, so after checking the cupboards and analyzing the stuff remaining from yesterday, I make a big production out of French toast and chopped fruits before Landon joins me.

  He’s freshly showered, and somehow, devastatingly sexy in a purple terrycloth robe. He has his tablet under his arm and is talking on the phone. He grins at me, and pours himself coffee, still talking to whoever’s on the other end. He pauses long enough to place a kiss on the back of my neck before he makes a plate for himself and goes out to the patio to continue his call.

  I watch his retreating back with an unhappy frown, then I settle down to eat breakfast alone. I finish up and stack the dishes, then go to the patio to peek. He’s sitting on one of the deckchairs, still talking on the phone. Now he has his tablet on his lap too, going through whatever it is that he’s discussing. He looks up and sees the frown on my face, then smiles apologetically and blows me a kiss.

  I make a pouty face, then go back inside. He had told me before we left that he would be working, so I can’t complain. After I shower, I consider calling Laurie to gossip, but I decide that I can do that after I get back. Thinking about her has reminded me of the lingerie set I never got to wear, so I find it in my bag and slip into the sheer lace and satin ensemble.

  It’s definitely sexy, and looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror makes me want to go out to the patio and make Landon forget what he’s working on. I’m sorely tempted, but I decide to let him work, instead, concentrating on finding something to read on my e-reader. After flicking through the many titles, I settle on a fantasy novel, and soon I’m immersed in a world of prophecies, dragons, and magical powers I wouldn’t mind having. When Landon comes into the bedroom a few hours later, I’m thoroughly engrossed.

  He sits at the edge of the bed. “What’re you reading?”

  I look up from the screen long enough to give him a side eye. His eyes are glued to my scantily clad body. Which serves him right, I decide. “Are you done working?”

  He pulls his eyes to my face. “Yes.”

  “Well, now I’m busy,” I tell him, going back to my book.

  “I can see that.” I hear the smile in his voice as he takes one of my feet in his hands, massaging it gently. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Why would I be?” I turn a playful scowl in his direction. “You told me you were going to be working. So now, if you don’t mind. Someone has a guild of evil magicians to challenge and defeat.”

  Landon laughs. “Sounds critical. I wouldn’t dare to interfere with something of that magnitude, with potentially far-reaching consequences.

  He continues to massage my toes, and it feels so good, I have to bite back a sigh of pleasure. “What’re you doing?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Nothing,” he says innocently. “Go on, defeat those evil magicians.” He pauses, then continues with a teasing note in his voice. “Though I don’t think you’re suitably dressed for something so important.”

  “Really?”I laugh.

  “Yes,” he replies, still massaging my foot. “For one you wouldn’t have just this thin lace covering your breasts. Your nipples are visible, tempting… it’s an explicit invitation to suck on them.”

  As he sp
eaks, my nipples tighten, poking through the lace. I press my thighs together, a wave of arousal settling between my legs.

  “And your thighs,” he continues, his hands drifting from the magic they’re working on my toes, to trail their way up to my calves, and then my thighs.

  “What about them?” I whisper.

  “They’re barely covered, just a little lace. Who can look at them without thinking about sex?” He pushes my legs apart and palms me through the lacy crotch of my lingerie. I’m already soaking wet, and now he knows.

  “You’re not reading anymore,” he points out smugly.

  I breathe, and turn my face to the screen of my device, my eyes unseeing. I steal a glance at him and he meets my gaze, his face straight as he hooks a finger into the crotch of my panties and shifts them to the side.

  I’m already panting softly, my lips parted in anticipation. I’m totally exposed to him, and I can almost feel the heat from his lips just a few inches from my sex.

  “You can’t stop reading now,” he teases. “Think of those evil magicians.”

  The only evil magician is him. I bite my lip, my stomach fluttering as desire pools between my legs, but I manage to give him a challenging glare and turn my eyes back to my device. Now I definitely can’t see a single word on the screen, and I’m not trying to. My whole body is waiting, and when Landon’s lips touch me, it takes everything for my hands to keep holding the device.

  He licks me leisurely and I know he’s enjoying himself. His tongue strokes my inner lips, making me tremble, then he rims my cleft, licking, and stroking, before pushing inside me. I bite down my moan, holding it back until his tongue travels back up to my clit, fluttering over the sensitive nerves. I cry out and toss the e-reader, leaving my fingers free to twist in Landon’s hair.

  He goes on and on, untiring, until my body is weak and shuddering, almost passed out from pleasure. He uses his fingers as well as his tongue, pushing them inside me, teasing all my sensitive spots, until I’m just a mass of nerves crying out in unbearable pleasure.