Landon (Swanson Court Book 4) Page 7

  So sweet.

  Fucking her is like a mind-altering drug. Each moan that escapes her chips away at my control until there’s nothing left, only her skin beneath my fingers, her heat throbbing around me, her body and mine. She arches and shudders, and I push deeper, harder, losing parts of myself inside her with each thrust. Her cry of pleasure comes out the same time as mine, as I spill myself inside her.

  My weight finds the chair behind me, and I pull her down with me. I bury my face in her hair, stroking her shoulders. I’m still inside her, and I know I could fuck her again. I could go all day if she made herself available.

  I run my fingers over her shoulders and back, stroking her gently, drawing slow patterns on her smooth skin.

  She’s breathing slowly, trembling as I explore more of her skin. When I cup her breasts, she squirms on my lap then moves more deliberately, until she’s riding me up and down, slick, wet, beautiful.

  I let out a breath. “You’re so hot.”

  She moans. “You’re so hard.”

  No fantasy was ever this good, this sweet. I grip her waist and move her hips up and down my length. I could do this forever, I realize, groaning as her slick walls pulse and tighten around my cock. It feels so good to be inside her.

  So good.

  When her body starts to shake and shudder, I’m almost there too. I hold her in place and rock my hips, sliding deep into her until she’s gasping and crying out, and I’m coming again, releasing my whole being into her sweet pulsing heat.

  I keep her on my lap, holding her close as her eyes flutter into drowsiness.

  “You said something about lunch,” she reminds me after a while. Her voice is soft and full of content.

  I chuckle. Food has been the furthest thing from my mind for the past half-hour. “Yes, I did.”

  “I’m sleepy,” she murmurs, “but I’m also unbelievably hungry.”

  “Me too…for some reason.” I lift her to her feet then do my best to clean us both up with a handkerchief from my pocket. When I’m done, I push it back in my pocket, looking up to see her watching me with a teasing grin.

  “You’re not going to keep that as some sort of weird memento, are you?”

  I could. “I don’t need a memento when I have you,” I say confidently. For a week only, a voice reminds me, but I ignore it.

  I help her adjust her clothes before starting on mine. She doesn’t say much as we pack up her stuff to leave. When she picks her phone up off the desk, whatever she sees on the screen makes her face cloud, but she doesn’t tell me what it is, and though I’m curious, I don’t ask.

  Chapter 10

  “We’re not flouting any city ordinances.”

  Claude smirks. “Just skirting close—”

  “And ensuring that we don’t have to push the opening back by a month or more.”

  “We can expand the delivery bay without having to delay the opening.”

  “Then they’ll find another obscure regulation—”

  I let them argue, Claude and one of the engineers. We’d found a relatively quiet spot for the meeting, but there’s still construction noise.

  My mind goes to Rachel, back in our suite, waiting for me.

  After lunch together, she returned to our hotel, and even though I’ve spoken to her on the phone since then, I miss her.

  I can’t wait to devour her again.

  And I will, tonight, after we have dinner at the famous chef Cameron McDaniel’s newly opened restaurant. I don’t have many friends, and Cameron, one of the most talented chefs I know, is one of the few I’m proud to include in the limited number.

  I interrupt the argument and face the engineer. “Get the permits for the expansion. I’m sure you can fast-track that if you put your mind to it.”

  He accepts with a nod. “Fine.”

  After my final meeting, I return to the Rosemont. Rachel is in her room and doesn’t hear me arrive. Resisting the temptation to go straight to her, I get ready for dinner. By the time I emerge a few minutes later, she’s coming out of her room, wearing a blue dress, her hair in a messy bun at the base of her neck.

  Damn.

  I cross the room as if drawn by a magnet, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her cheek. “You look amazing.”

  Her lips curve in an appreciative smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  “I aim to please.”

  “And you never miss.”

  We’re flirting. I like it. “Not if I can help it.”

  She’s laughing softly as we go down to the entrance, where our ride is waiting. It’s a cool, foggy night, and outside the car, the city is full of light and vibrance. Already, bookings are coming in for the Gold Dust, and I wonder how long the excitement will last. Months? Years? A lifetime if I can help it. Every hotel that bears my name will always be the first name in luxury accommodations. That’s my goal.

  The car stops in front of Cameron’s restaurant and Rachel is looking at me. She has been silent through the ride, deep in thought. I turn in her direction, and she looks away. I reach over to stroke her hand, and she lifts her eyes to mine. There’s an uncertainty in her gaze I don’t understand.

  Leaning across the seat, I place a kiss on her lips. It’s supposed to be quick and gentle, but she doesn’t let me pull away. She deepens the kiss, seeking more. I oblige her without hesitation, pushing past her lips to taste the sweetness of her mouth.

  She lets out a soft moan, and I let her go, barely stopping myself from fucking her in the car.

  “I can’t imagine why I thought I could make it through the evening without wanting to tear off your clothes,” I say with a rueful smile.

  She slides a small hand along my thigh then lets her fingers tease the ridge in my pants. She wets her lips in a gesture that goes straight to my cock. “I’m not very hungry,” she whispers, her face inviting me to turn the car around and go back to our hotel.

  I take a deep breath, sorely tempted. “I wish we could go back, but there’s someone expecting us.”

  Cameron’s restaurant is on the hill by the waterfront and the views are spectacular. Inside, a waiter leads us to our table, and just as we sit, Cameron arrives.

  He’s like a vibrating ball of energy with twinkly blue eyes and bright red hair, and I’m glad to see him. After we hug, he turns his attention to Rachel.

  “You must be an angel,” he proclaims, gazing deep into her eyes.

  I shake my head, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Rachel, this is Cameron McDaniel. Cameron, Rachel Foster.”

  She smiles up at him. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Delighted.” He places a kiss on her hand, and I glare at him. There’s only so much I can take.

  “Cameron is an old friend,” I tell Rachel. “And he only recently opened this restaurant, so he’s dying to hear you say it’s awesome.”

  She gives him a charming smile. “Definitely awesome.”

  “Definitely—I like you already.” He takes a seat at our table. “What are you doing with this handsome devil, anyway?” He gives her a serious stare. “We reds should stick together. I know all the dirt on him, known him for years. I could tell you things that’ll make him squirm.”

  Rachel is smiling. She glances at me, her eyes warm in a way I haven’t noticed before. This is the first time she’s seen me outside of work and sex, I reason. Yes, I am a human being, Rachel, one who can’t wait to peel your clothes off and make you melt with pleasure.

  She turns back to Cameron. “I look forward to hearing the worst.”

  Cameron can’t hide his excitement. He summons a waiter and orders wine. “For my friend, who I haven’t seen in ages, and his lovely girlfriend, I have prepared something special.” He looks at Rachel. “You don’t mind seafood, do you?”

  I see Rachel’s eyebrows go up when she hears the word girlfriend. Apart from a small headshake, she doesn’t give any other reaction. She doesn’t seem flattered, either. She’s clearly not hanging on to the hope that b
eing with me in that way will become a possibility.

  I don’t want a relationship.

  Well, neither do I.

  Cameron charms Rachel with his bottomless well of stories, making her laugh almost to the point of tears. While I’m glad Cameron is running his own restaurants now, some of his stories make me nostalgic for the days when we were both flying by the seats of our pants in New York, me trying to run a hotel that was much larger than anyone thought I could manage, and Cameron learning the ropes in restaurant management and trying to make his way in the world.

  The food is delicious, as is the wine. Hours later, after much laughter—much of it at my expense—we leave. Cameron follows us to the car, giving Rachel a warm hug before turning to me. “Take good care of her.”

  “I believe I’m already doing that,” I reply with a chuckle. My eyes find Rachel’s, and she flushes. She knows what I mean.

  There’s a sudden flash from across the street and I curse, one hand going to pull Rachel close to me and shield her from the camera.

  “They always come here hoping to catch the movie stars leaving,” Cameron says dismissively. He grins at me. “You can blame yourself for looking too much like a movie star.”

  Rachel giggles. “I agree.”

  My arm tightens around her. This guy, movie star looks or not, can’t wait to get you in bed, baby.

  As soon as we’re inside the car, I reach for her, pulling her into my arms and covering her lips with mine.

  She’s like an explosive cocktail that goes right to my head. She kisses me back, small sounds spilling from her as her hands roam over my body.

  Jesus!

  Pulling away, I try to get some control of my desires. I’m panting and so is she. “I’ve been thinking about this all evening,” My voice is hoarse. “No, since we spoke on the phone earlier. I need to fuck you.”

  She sighs. “Me too.”

  “You’re going to give yourself to me. Every part of you.” I trail my lips down to her neck and her head falls back. I inhale the sweet scent of her skin and kiss the pulse beating in her throat. Mine. “I want you so much, Rachel, and I’m going to make you mine.”

  Her eyes stay closed as I continue to trail my lips over her body. When the car stops outside the Rosemont Royal, I want to fly up to our floor. I maintain my composure until we’re inside our suite. Once there, I don’t wait a moment more. I mold her body to the wall and cover her lips with mine. She tastes like sex and desire, like everything I need.

  She tears at her dress and it falls open. I toss my jacket away then my shirt, my lips still on hers.

  She reaches for my waistband, fumbling with my pants as I slide her dress off her shoulders. Next is her bra. I free her breasts and they spill out, pink-tipped and beautiful.

  Fuck.

  I tug her panties down, and when the tiny bit of lace falls to her ankles, she is completely, totally naked.

  And glorious.

  I feast my eyes, barely noticing when she unfastens my pants. She strokes me through my briefs, and I can hardly take it.

  Sliding one hand between her thighs, I can feel just how wet she is. I lift her off her feet and spread her legs around my waist, her back to the wall. She moves against me, rubbing her wet core on me, and I almost lose my mind.

  “Landon,” she moans.

  “Shh, baby.” I free my cock, and she squirms, her hips straining.

  “Fuck me, Landon,” she says, breathless. “Fuck me now.”

  With pleasure. I drive deep inside her. She tightens around me and my mind fractures. My whole being is centered on that point where our bodies are joined, and for as long as I’m inside her, there’s nothing else, only us, only sex, only this.

  I take one nipple in my mouth, then the other. She makes a tortured sound, and I rock into her, deeper, harder, fucking her until she screams, coming hard and loud. I follow almost immediately, my climax hitting me harder than a speeding truck.

  My legs are shaking, and I fall to my knees, still bearing her weight. She buries her face in my hair, breathing hard. I rise to my feet and carry her to my bedroom. I’m still inside her, still hard, and once I lay her on the bed, I start to pull away.

  “Don’t.” Her arms tighten around me. “Don’t go.”

  Truth is, I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave her side, ever. I slide my lips over hers, caressing her tongue with mine before placing kisses on her throat. After a few moments, I start to move, gazing at her face, watching her green eyes widen and dilate as I make love to her.

  This is heaven. The thought comes as her moans fill my senses. We move together, perfectly joined, until she shudders and comes with a long, soft cry. My arms tighten around her, and soon, I’m coming too, letting go of everything except the pleasure she gives me.

  I collapse on the bed beside her and pull her close, holding her in my arms until we both fall asleep.

  Chapter 11

  “Help me, Landon.”

  I wake up with a start, an image of a burning car in my head, my mother’s voice distinct in my memories. Beside me, Rachel is still asleep, her hair spilling out on the pillows like a silk curtain. I place a kiss on her temple. She stirs but doesn’t awaken.

  Just a few more days. I don’t want to think about after, when we return to New York. If I do, I will be tempted to beg, and that’s something I’ve never considered doing, for any reason.

  I find my phone near the foyer, along with our discarded clothes. I take care of the clothes, and in the closet, I pull on a pair of pajama bottoms before going out to the terrace.

  There’s a text on my phone from Cameron.

  I like her.

  Yeah, me too. I set the phone down and stare out at the city. A cold breeze blows past me, and I close my eyes. I don’t mind the cold. It’s more bearable than the flames in my nightmares.

  I’m not sure how long I stand there before Rachel comes. A sound behind me alerts me to her presence, and I turn around to find her watching me. She’s wearing a white robe drawn tightly around her, concern shadowing her green eyes.

  I straighten. “You should be asleep.”

  “So should you.” She cocks her head to one side and looks me over. “What are you doing out here?”

  I shrug. I can’t tell her about the images and memories that plague my sleep. “Just thinking.”

  She comes to stand beside me. “What about?”

  “Work.”

  Another breeze slides across the terrace and I notice she’s shivering.

  “You’re cold.” I put my arm around her, glad for the excuse to breathe in her scent and her warmth. “Come on. Let’s go back inside.”

  I lead her back to my bed and soon, she falls asleep. When I’m sure my movements won’t disturb her, I leave, going to the library inside the suite where I work till morning. Rachel stir when I return to bed and melts easily into my arms. Once again, I lose myself in her body, and the experience is more exquisite than I can put into words.

  My morning at the Gold Dust is uneventful, at least until Jed calls me from New York.

  Jed is not one for social calls, so I know there’s a serious issue that requires my attention. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Aidan,” he says.

  My body seizes with something like fear. My brother is talented, artistic, clever, intense, but he has also struggled with depression for most of his life. I live with a barely contained fear of something happening to him, and at times like this, it paralyzes me.

  “Where is he?”

  “I’m not sure. Nobody is.” Jed’s voice is grave. “He hasn’t shown up for rehearsals in a couple of days and nobody can reach him.”

  “Have you checked his apartment?”

  “His and yours, and I’ve checked with the Hayes. They haven’t seen him at Windbreakers.”

  I close my eyes. If Aidan is not at his place or mine, if he isn’t at Windbreakers either…where can he be?

  Memories of past destructive behaviors thr
eaten my composure. He’s past all that, I tell myself. He’s grown so much.

  “What about the cabin?” It’s a long shot, but Aidan purchased a remote cabin far upstate. He wanted it for solitude, according to him. To my knowledge, he has never actually spent a day there.

  “I’ll get on it,” Jed says.

  “No,” I reply. “I’ll go.” This is Aidan. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Jed is quiet for a moment. “Okay. Joe will pick you up at the airport.”

  After I ask Tony to arrange for the plane and the car to take me to the airport, I realize I haven’t told Rachel I’m leaving.

  “Where’s Rachel?”

  He frowns and looks up from his phone. “She’s just finished talking to the interior designer.”

  I dismiss him, already dialing Rachel’s number. I’m paralyzed with worry about Aidan, but I’m also seized with a deep hesitation to leave her, even for a day.

  She takes the call. “Hey.” I can tell from her voice that she’s smiling.

  Happy to hear from me.

  We’ve come a long way from when she was mad at me for showing up in her office.

  “I have to go to New York.” I tell her, regretful. “I’ll leave in about an hour. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Oh.” She sounds so disappointed it causes an ache in my chest.

  “It’s very important, or else I wouldn’t leave…” I stop myself. “Or else I wouldn’t go.”

  She is quiet. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  I let out a breath. “You’d better be.”

  In the car, on the way to the plane, I reflect on the words I’d been about to say. Or else I wouldn’t leave you.

  I stopped myself from saying them, because they’d have communicated much more than I am supposed to feel, and yet exactly what I already do.

  On the plane, I snatch a few hours of sleep. In my dreams, my parents are happy. My father, home from one of his many trips, is teaching Aidan to ride a bike while I show off the skills I’ve already mastered, luxuriating in my mother’s praise. Later, they go out to dinner and return in time to tuck us in bed.