Chapter 18
Zoe
Landon’s green eyes bore into me like he’s trying to measure the dimensions of my heart. I’m squirmy and itchy under his appraisal.
I cover his eyes with my hand. “Stop looking at me like that.”
He catches my waist and tugs me against his chest. “How about a consolation prize for second place?” His gaze drops to my mouth, and his eyes fill with a heady desire.
Being able to bring this powerful man to the point of begging is intoxicating. Why me? What is it about me that makes him plead for a single kiss?
Earlier, I would have gladly jumped into his arms if he’d made a move, but that would have been a bad idea. Pure lust driving me to ignore what I know is right.
Landon and I don’t have a future.
We haven’t spent enough time together to truly know one another, so I don’t understand his desire. What I see in his eyes when he looks at me goes beyond attraction.
It isn’t lust.
He shows me his depth, practically baring his soul.
And it ignites a similar sensation.
Watching him watch me, I understand my heart.
Landon sees who I want to be. He doesn’t dismiss me. He respects my opinions and makes me feel like I can accomplish anything.
I want to give in to him. To kiss him and see what it feels like to truly be desired by a man I have nothing to offer except my attention.
Just me.
That’s all he wants.
But then what?
Do I care?
My stomach tightens. I do care. I need to know there is more to us than secret make-out sessions. I don’t need promises of forever, but I need to know he won’t regret this once he’s had his fill. I need to know he won’t dump me after he’s scratched whatever itch drives him to pursue me.
“Why me?”
“Why not you?”
“And tomorrow? If we start making out now, what happens tomorrow?”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t want to be tossed aside. This means something to me, and if you’re bored or feeding your ego, I can’t—”
He presses his thumb to my lips. “I want you. For as long as you’ll let me.”
“Not an itch to scratch and then walk away?”
“Zoe, you’re in my soul.”
“No more lines.”
“That’s the honest truth. I can’t walk away from you.”
“Okay.” My fingers slide through his silky hair, and I angle his face to mine, lifting a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Okay.”
His arm bands around my waist and secures me to his chest as our mouths reacquaint with each other.
Landon is an amazing kisser. His lips are pillowy soft, and he knows how to shift the intensity of our kiss to increase my pleasure. He’s not sloppy or uncontrolled as he worships my mouth. Why did I talk myself out of kissing him sooner?
He guides me to straddle his lap on the sofa. The heat from his chest pours into my body, and I wrap my arm around his neck as his tongue asks permission to stroke mine.
I let him in, fighting the urge to lose myself in the sensations. I can’t lose control. I need to be present so my heart doesn’t get confused by what this is.
Kissing, enjoying, worshiping each other. Landon said he can’t walk away, but that doesn’t mean he won’t. That his life won’t yank him back.
Landon’s hands run up and down my spine, like he wants to touch me everywhere at once.
It’s not enough. His hands on my back and on my hips aren’t enough. The power I feel kissing him isn’t enough.
I want more. I whimper deep in my throat. Can I ask for more? What will it mean? What do I want? What does he want?
“What’s wrong?” he asks against my lips.
“I don’t know.” I kiss him again, but the feeling of inadequacy burns deep in my belly.
“Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
“Is this too much?”
“It’s not enough.”
He stills under my hands. His lips leave mine, and he stares at where he’s holding my hips. “I…um…am I not…” He clears his throat. “I can do better.”
I smile at his lack of self-confidence. “You’re perfect. Your kisses are perfect. I just want more.”
His eyes burn with desire. “Take what you need.”
“But—”
He frames my face with his hands. “Take what you need.”
“I need you.” I tug the bottom of his shirt. “Is this okay?”
“It’s not too fast?”
“I’ve been fighting these feelings for weeks. No one sees me the way you do, and I like who I am when I’m with you.”
He grips the back of his shirt, slipping the material over his head, and tosses it behind me.
He’s beautiful. Every muscle defined and chiseled to perfection.
He slips his hand back into my hair and pulls me down for another passionate kiss. My fingers trace the cleft down his sternum, to the valleys and ridges of his abs, and tangle in the light dusting of hair below his belly button.
“Careful,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Or what?”
He bucks his hips against my core. “Or I might get the wrong idea.”
“Why is that the wrong idea? Seems pretty right to me.”
His throat bobs. “Zoe, do you want—”
I kiss my way down the side of his throat, licking and sucking until his hands tighten on my hips. “I want all of you,” I whisper. “If you’re willing to give it to me.”
“Only if you return the favor.” He captures my mouth and devours me with single-minded focus.
I tell myself I’m not a one-night stand kind of woman, but to have Landon, just once, just tonight, I’ll break my rule.
His attention shoots electricity through my entire body, lighting me up like the tree in Rockefeller Center. He’s the only one who’s ever made me feel this bright and beautiful.
We only have this moment. When the house is done, he’ll go back to his normal life.
I have to be okay with that.
Our ticking clock makes it all the more important for me to take advantage of the time we have together.
When he’s gone, my invincibility will go with him.
I’ll go back to being everyone’s Baby Girl.
I’ll only have the memories of how I brought this powerful man to his knees, so I’m going to stretch every moment as long as I can, indulge in Landon’s decadent kisses.
I will indulge in every part of him so that in fifty years, when I have nothing else to show for my life, I’ll have memories of him.
I peel my shirt over my head and reveal my simple white bra.
A growl rumbles deep in his throat. “You’re making my dreams come true.”
“Smooth talker. Shut up and kiss me.”
His finger traces the top edge of my bra, almost grazing my nipple, but not quite dipping deep enough, teasing me until I arch into his hand and he smiles against my lips. “Greedy woman. You like that?” His other hand traces around my back to the clasp. “May I?”
I nod.
“I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes.”
With one quick flick of his fingers my bra falls to my elbows and his eyes blow wide. “You are so fucking beautiful.” He traces my areola with his thumb, circling round and round until he brushes the edge of my nipple. A warm shot of desire pings through my body.
“You like that?”
“Yes. More.” It’s been so long since I was intimate with someone, I didn’t think my body would respond this quickly, but the months since our kiss have been like one long drawn-out foreplay session.
Every time I saw him, I remembered. I relived his mouth on mine in as great a detail as I could. My body knew it wanted more before my brain gave me permission to accept that I don’t always have to do what other people tell me to. I can take what I want.
What I do with Landon isn’t anyone else’s business. I can want him and do my job.
No one ever questioned if Dad’s relationship with my mom disqualified him from being mayor. Why should it matter for me?
Landon’s mouth latches onto my nipple. Warm wet sucking sends tingles down my spine and deep into my belly. All other thoughts disintegrate.
I don’t care about anything outside this room.
I grind into Landon’s cock as heat pours through me. He bends me back, gaining better access to my breasts. Licking, biting, drawing my nipples into his mouth as the pleasure between my thighs aches for release.
I don’t want to come yet. I want more. I need more than this. I’m not ready for it to be over.
Pushing his shoulders back against the sofa, I slip from his lap. His hands grip my hips, tugging me back, but I resist. My thumbs hook the edge of my yoga pants, and I slowly guide them over my hips.
Landon threads his hands behind his head, watching like my striptease is an Oscar-worthy performance. When I kick the black fabric from my feet, he rises to his feet. He drinks me in, head to toe and back, until he’s gazing into my eyes.
The awe and devotion there almost knocks me over. No one has ever looked at me the way he does. No one sees me the way he does.
For no other reason than that, I know this night is the right choice for us.
He threads our hands together and presses the back of my hand to his chest. “What do you want?”
“No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“Seriously?” He kisses my knuckles. “You’re in control. Tell me how to make you scream my name.”
“I…” I bite my lip. The guys I’ve been with before always had a routine. Make out. Play with my breasts or my butt, depending on which feature was their favorite. Condom. Then race for their orgasm.
I’m lucky my breasts are sensitive, so I usually orgasmed too if I could get the angle just right when they slid their cock into me, but I’ve never been the one to decide the order of events.
I’m not sure I know what to ask for.
He smooths his thumb between my eyebrows. “You’re thinking way too hard about this, Comet.”
“I want you to…” I slam my eyes closed.
He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into a bear hug. “If you want to stop, we stop. I won’t pressure you if you aren’t ready.”
My stomach pinches. “Do you want to stop?”
Was I wrong? What if this is an itch to get out of his system? What if he looks at every woman the way he looks at me?
I thought I could be okay with that, but with the reality of his question, one night won’t be enough. I can’t sleep with him tonight, then pretend we weren’t together.
My breathing intensifies. What am I doing?
He cups my chin, bringing his gaze to mine.
“I’d fuck you every day for the rest of my life if you let me.
Have you seen you? Holy hell, Comet, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.
Your sassy mouth. Your passion. I can’t get enough, but if you’re having second thoughts, I’m content to be near you. ”
Tears spring to my eyes. I dash them away, but I’m not quick enough.
He tucks the hair behind my ears. “I’m sorry.” He kisses my forehead. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I smack the back of my hand against his chest. “These are happy tears. Why are you so nice to me?”