Addicted to You Read online

  “You want to eat anything?” he asks, “They have…” he shrugs. “Stuff”

  I shake my head. “I already had dinner.”

  He grins. “I remember when you’d order a little of everything so you could taste it all. You were fearless.”

  A trip down memory lane? I smile despite myself, remembering those early days with him. I was fearless until I mentioned that I was in love with him, and he made me feel like a fool.

  Our drinks arrive. Jack sips his while watching me, a thoughtful frown on his face. On the small stage, a scruffy looking guy appears with a sheaf of papers in his hand. Someone brings him a chair and a mic, and he sits, then introduces himself, before starting to read a poem.

  A few people are listening, but most carry on with their conversations and their drinking. The poem is really lengthy and seems to be about someone being torn away from his dreams. The tone reminds me too much of how I feel, how torn up I am inside. So I try not to listen.

  “Oh well,” Jack says when the guy finishes, leaving the stage to half-hearted applause. “That was sad.”

  “Yes, it was.” I take a small sip of my drink. “So, when and what is your next assignment.”

  He shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m liking just being in the city right now.”

  I raise a brow. “That is so unlike you. What happened to your wanderlust, your adventurous spirit?”

  His only reply is another shrug. I frown, puzzled. “How long are you going to stay this time?”

  He looks at me, his gray eyes suddenly sober and intense. “How long do you want me to?”

  I sigh. “It’s never depended on me before.”

  He takes another sip from his glass, then lets his eyes wander around the bar before dragging them back to me. “Maybe now it does.”

  Three months ago, I would have been overjoyed to hear words like that coming from him, but now…

  Now…

  My brain rebels against the thought, trying to suppress it, but I can’t. It bursts, uncontrollably, to the surface.

  Now, I’m in love with Landon.

  I draw in a breath, and concentrate on Jack’s face, doing my best to purge every thought of Landon from my mind. Someday, I tell myself. I’ll look at his face and feel as little as I feel right now with Jack. I’ll look at him and be unable to remember the intensity of the emotions now raging inside me.

  It’s very unlikely, and there is a sense of loss at the thought of letting go of my feelings for Landon, but what choice do I have?

  Jack is looking at me, waiting for a response.

  I sigh. “Jack.” My voice is gentle. “You have to let it go.”

  “Because of him?”

  “Yes, and also because of you. I got over you Jack, let it go.”

  He draws in a sharp breath. “I’m trying to.”

  We’re both silent. It starts to feel uncomfortable, and I begin to think that maybe I should leave.

  “My mother’s back in town,” Jack says.

  “Really?” I give him a concerned glance. I’ve never met his mother, but I know who she is. Gertrude Weyland wrote a novel in her early twenties, which, more than thirty years later, had never gone out of print. After that one book, she stopped writing and went to work in publishing. She’s been living in London working as an editor with one of the big publishing companies. All through my years of knowing Jack, he hardly ever mentioned her. From the few times he did, I got the feeling that they didn’t have a good relationship, but I never pressed for the details.

  “Is she staying?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” he frowns. “I haven’t seen her.”

  He doesn’t look like he wants to either. “Will you?” I ask, wondering how bad their relationship must be for him to be so hesitant. I’ve always been able to take my relationship with my parents for granted. I’ve never had cause to doubt their love and unwavering support. It’s hard for me to understand anyone not being able to enjoy the same kind of relationship with their parents.

  Jack shrugs. “I have to.” He downs his drink and signals for a waiter. “Will you come with?”

  “Me?” I shake my head in surprise. “Why?”

  He sighs. “She and I…” he shakes his head, and there’s no sign of the easy charm that’s usually a part of his every word and expression. “It would be great to have someone else there.”

  I pause to think. A few months ago I would have been excited, both at the thought of meeting Gertrude Weyland, and by the fact that she was Jack’s mother. I’d love to meet the woman, but with Jack? I’m not sure.

  However, considering it against the bleak hours I have stretched out in front of me, filled with the memories of Landon that I can’t escape, it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  I sigh. “When?”

  “Tomorrow evening.” He looks grateful. “Or the day after. I’ve stayed away this long. What’s a few more days?”

  WE spend the rest of the evening talking about stuff from the office. To my relief, Jack doesn’t venture back into the territory of exploring his feelings for me, whatever they are. It’s almost like old times, except somehow, it’s obvious that we both have a lot on our minds.

  When I’m ready to leave, Jack helps me find a cab. In the rearview mirror, I see him standing on the curb watching the cab silently, and the image makes me inexplicably sad.

  My phone vibrates, and I fish it out of my bag. There is an alert is for one of my many reminders, and also two missed calls, from Landon.

  My breath catches. I stare at his name on the screen, my stomach knotting hard. First his appearance this morning, and now phone calls. It all points to one thing, that he’s as reluctant to let me go as he was when he convinced me to go with him to San Francisco.

  The thought is as alarming as it is exciting. A wave of anticipation and expectation floods over my skin, almost sexual in the effect it has on me. I close my eyes and lock the screen before tossing the phone back into my bag, and searching for other things to crowd my head with. Work, even Jack. Everything is safer than thinking about Landon.

  The cabbie leaves me outside my apartment building, and a couple of people walk past me, talking and laughing, probably on their way to one of the many clubs on the next street. One of the guys whistles at me, but I ignore him and he goes back to laughing with his friends. I’m about to head for the doors when something catches my attention across the tree-lined street.

  The silver Jaguar is parked directly opposite from where I’m standing. The same spot Landon parked the night he came over and called me from his car. A tremor moves slowly up my spine, especially when the pleasurable memories from that night flood my head. It could be anyone, I tell myself, my eyes still on the familiar car. There were probably hundreds of silver jaguars in my neighborhood alone.

  But it is Landon.

  I watch him step out of the car, his unmistakable lithe form circling around it until he’s standing directly opposite me on the other side of the street. He’s wearing a dark sweatshirt and jeans. At first glance, apart from his searing hotness, he doesn’t look much different from any of the new grads in my neighborhood. But when he moves, there’s something in the way he carries himself, something that points to the fact that beyond the wavy dark-gold hair, the beautifully sculpted face, and the sexy frame, there’s the enigmatic and powerful man beneath, the billionaire owner of the Swanson Court hotels.

  What does he want now?

  I stand there frozen. We’re looking at each other, silent, but my heart is pounding, my skin heating, my whole body drowning with painful longing. How am I supposed to get over him when just the sight of him renders me confused, aching, and full of desire?

  Angry with myself, and with him for making me feel so helpless, I turn around sharply, stalking towards the entrance to my building.

  “Rachel,” I hear him call, but I don’t answer. I’m too angry and afraid of what will happen if I let him come too close.

  With a few long strides, he catch
es up to me at the door.

  “For God’s sake Rachel. Why are you running?”

  I don’t look at him, but I can feel him, so close. His whole body is like a magnet, pulling me helplessly towards him. My hands are shaking, the aching hole in my heart widening painfully. I close my eyes, willing myself to be strong. I want to reach for his face and kiss him, I want to press my body to his and feel the way he wants me. My head fills with possibilities and images, of both of us, bodies entwined, in his car, maybe, or upstairs in my bed.

  I try to breathe, and to dispel the erotic images from my mind, before turning to face him. “Maybe because you seem to be stalking me,” I reply, my voice surprisingly steady.

  His beautiful lips move in something like a smile, and yearning floods my chest. I can’t do this, I realize. I want him too much. “Landon.” My voice is a whisper. “You should leave.”

  “Why?” There is so much to the question. I don’t know how to reply, so I don’t. He makes an exasperated sound in his throat. “How was your date?” he asks bitterly.

  “You came all the way over here to ask me that?” I pause, “or to make sure I didn’t end up in Jack’s bed? That’s why you called earlier isn’t it? To make sure that even though I was with him, I wouldn’t forget about you?” I fold my arms and glare at him. “Because you’re what? Jealous?”

  My outburst seems to amuse Landon. He leans towards me. “Of course I am,” he whispers.

  His face is so close, his vibrant eyes, his incredibly sensuous mouth. I lick my lips, an involuntary movement that he doesn’t miss. His eyes follow the motion with a fierce hunger that draws a reaction from my core. I close my eyes and breathe. He doesn’t feel the same way you feel about him, I tell myself desperately. He’ll never love you the way you want him to.

  “Go away,” I whisper.

  He moves even closer. “No.”

  I look away from his face, reaching into my bag with one hand to fumble for my keys while pushing the outer door open with the other. Landon reaches out to hold the door for me and follows me inside the vestibule. In the small space, his proximity is harder to ignore. I find my keys and lift them to the lock on the inner door, but my hand is shaking so badly, I can hardly get them to fit.

  He reaches for my hand and takes the keys from me, unlocking the door and gesturing for me to go in. I step into the lobby, tensing when he follows me.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he tells me, his voice soft. “Not until you stop lying to me.”

  I snatch the keys from his hand. “I don’t know what you want to hear,” I say sharply, leaving him and heading for the stairs. He follows me, and I’m all too aware of him behind me, his eyes on me as I climb the stairs, making my legs feel rubbery. At the door to my apartment, I stop. My emotions are warring inside me. One side is screaming for me to admit my feelings to him, another side is angry with him, and with myself for not being stronger. Then there’s the sensible part of my brain, trying to persuade me to stay on course, to stay away from him and protect myself.

  I turn around. Landon is at the top step, and he continues to advance until he’s only a few strides from me. My eyes fix on his chest, and I search for something to say. “I got your flowers,” I offer finally, in a vain attempt to relieve the tension I’m feeling.

  He cocks his head, probably surprised by the topic I’ve chosen. “Did you like them?”

  I look up at him and nod silently.

  “I liked the article,” he says.

  “I’m glad.” My voice sounds faint, and why do I suddenly feel like crying?

  His eyes linger on my lips again. Only for a moment, but warmth floods into the lower part of my belly. The urge to walk into his arms and forget everything else is so strong, it takes all my strength to overcome it.

  I suck in a breath. “Landon…” I start. I want to tell him that it’s not a good idea for him to be here, that there’s nothing else to say, but he’s already moved one step forward, his hand going to the small of my back to pull me the rest of the way towards him. He molds my body to his, lowering his lips to capture mine in a deep, searing kiss.

  God! He is possessive, masterful, and so sexy, His lips slide over mine, while his tongue probes the seam of my lips, urging me to open my mouth to him. I’m unable… unwilling to resist. He slides his tongue into my mouth to tease and taste mine, and I lose all my ability to think. My stomach tightens with need so intense it’s almost painful. I moan softly and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through my body as sweet desire pulses between my legs.

  With the hand at my back, he presses my body closer to his, while he explores my mouth hungrily. My breasts are crushed against his chest, and my whole body feels weak and hot, melting into his, suffused with craving for him. I kiss him back, hungry for more of the taste of his lips, desperate for his touch.

  I thread my fingers through his hair, my whole being reveling in the hunger I can feel coming from him, in the hard ridge of his arousal I can feel pressed against my stomach. I grind against him as the pulsing between my legs intensifies. I want him so much. I want him inside me.

  Still kissing me, Landon moves his right hand to cup the curve of my butt, while with the other, he braces his weight on the door. I want to tear off my clothes, to give him access to the most heated parts of my body. I moan against his mouth, sucking hungrily on his tongue. His answering groan is like a spark in my blood. Any minute now, I’m going to let him fuck me against the door to my apartment, regardless of the fact that anybody could walk up or down the stairs. I want him so damn much.

  But I shouldn’t.

  The thought slips into my mind, the first sensible thought I’ve had since he touched me.

  I tear my mouth away from his with a desperate moan, pushing as far back from him as the small space allows. I’m breathing heavily and so is he. His eyes are burning hot with arousal, his pupils dilated, and his body so tense, I can almost feel the effort it’s taking for him to control himself.

  “You should leave,” I manage. My voice is hoarse, and my hands are shaking. I clench my fingers tightly, trying not to think about the fact that just a few seconds ago, they were buried in his hair. “Please leave.”

  “Why?” He sounds as confused as I feel. “Rachel, you want this.”

  I shake my head, my trembling body making the gesture a blatant lie. Every single inch of me is pulsing with unfulfilled desire. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to leave me alone so I can get over him. I don’t know what I want.

  “Rachel.” Landon’s voice is firm and patient, urging me to listen. I shake my head stubbornly, but he doesn’t stop. “I want you,” he says insistently, “and I know you want me. I’m not going to walk away from this.”

  I want you.

  The words send a tremor down my spine, and it takes all my willpower to ignore the feelings they invoke in me. But we’ve been here before, and I already know how it ends. Me, back in his bed, wondering how long it will last and worried that it won’t.

  When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “Just tell me what you want from me, Rachel.”

  I want you to love me! The words hover at the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say them. Instead, I shake my head. “You keep saying you want me, Landon. For what exactly? Just sex? Indefinitely?”

  “This means a lot more than sex and you know it.” He touches a finger to my cheek and I start to tremble again. “As long as we both want each other this much, why does it have to end?”

  “I don’t want you,” I tell him stubbornly.

  “I already said I won’t go anywhere until you stop lying to me.” He pushes back from the door and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Rachel, this thing we have...”

  I inhale sharply. “Landon… I don’t want a ‘thing.’ I don’t.”

  He considers me for a long moment. “So you want something more serious? Some sort of commitment? A relationship?” His eyes flutter closed, then open again. “Rachel, that’s fine. We can
have that if it’s what you want, but it’s crazy to keep thinking of excuses why we shouldn’t be together.”

  I want to hope, but how different is a ‘relationship’ from what we’d already had. There was still no guarantee that he’d ever allow himself to love me. “A relationship?” I ask softly, folding my arms across my chest. “And that’s all?”

  He looks at me, brows raised. “What else is there?”

  Love. Why can’t I say the word? Instead, I hold his gaze. “You’re willing to let me be a small part of your life, to go out with you once in a while and be seen with you. That’s what you call a relationship, isn’t it? And when you’ve had enough of the sex, which is what this is really all about. That will be the end, wouldn’t it?

  He throws up his hands. “God! I don’t understand you. What the fuck do you want?”

  Love. At least a chance at it.

  But his thoughts can’t even go there. That’s how alien the idea of love is to him.

  “I can’t do this,” I whisper. I want to cry. This whole thing with him is so heartbreaking. “I can’t… Just go away, Landon. Just leave me alone.”

  He looks like he’s going to say something else, but then he turns and stalks down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I watch him until he disappears, my heart feeling raw, then I take a deep breath, unlock the door and walk into the apartment.

  WHEN I close the door behind me, I’m still trembling. Laurie is lying on the couch, her hair piled atop her head, glasses on. She has earbuds stuck in her ear, and her face is deep in one of her gigantic law books. She sees me and rises to a sitting position, taking off her glasses and earbuds.

  “So, how was the date with the Jacksshole?” She does a small grimace as she says her version of Jack’s name. Obviously, she’s still mad at me for ‘sabotaging’ my relationship with Landon.

  “Whatever, Laurie,” I say tiredly. “I’m going to bed.”