Page 52 of Sweet Southern Heat

“You feel so good like this,” Landon whispered, trailing kisses across my jaw and down my neck. “I never want there to be anything between us again. I want you bare. I want all of you. Always.”

Tears welled in my eyes, and my chest swelled with affection for this man. Who knew this was where we’d end up when he towed my car just a few short months ago?

He picked up speed, and the pressure between my hips began to build. The tension coiled in my lower belly multiplied when he slid a hand between us and circled my clit with his thumb.

“Landon,” I gasped, my release mounting as he stroked the spot inside that had my muscles clenching around him.

“That’s it, Olivia, squeeze my cock. Let me feel that greedy little cunt drain every last drop of my cum.”

His words were my undoing. I shattered beneath him, my release hitting me with a force that stole my breath. I cried out, clinging to him as he slammed into me, drawing out my pleasure. He spilled inside me, the warmth of his release filling me as he thrust into me one last time and stilled.

Landon lifted his head and gazed down at me. He brushed the hair from my face and dropped a tender kiss on my lips.

“That was fucking incredible,” he said with a crooked grin, and I chuckled. A low curse left his lips, and he groaned. With a pained expression, he pulled out of me.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.

He fell onto his back next to me and drew in a deep breath.

“Never better,” he replied, turning to face me with a smile. “It’s just that when you laughed, you tightened around me, and he’s already quite sensitive.”

I giggled, and his grin turned up a notch. Chewing on my bottom lip, I did little to hide the mischief gleaming in my eyes.

“Does that mean you’re not up for going another round?”

“I never said that,” he replied, propping himself up on his elbow. I mirrored his position and rested my head on my closed fist.

“Hmm, I’m not sure you’re ready to … rise up to the challenge,” I taunted. He moved so quickly, I didn’t see it coming until I was flat on my back with him hovering above me.

“You don’t have to worry about my ability to rise to the challenge,” he claimed, dropping his head until his lips were barely an inch from mine. His voice came out low and gravelly when the warning came. “You should be more concerned with how many times I’m going to make you come.”

Chapter 46

Landon

Six months later

The heavy thudof my boots against the dull tile floor echoed down the long corridor. A buzzer sounded, and a metal door slid open. I handed the officer my ID, and he scrutinized it over the rim of his glasses as though it might be a forgery. Satisfied I wasn’t trying to impersonate someone else, he requested my cell phone and wallet. I relinquished them and followed the guard into the visiting room.

Lyle’s shoulders were slumped, and his hands were clasped in front of him, resting on the table. He stared down at them but lifted his gaze at the sound of my approach. His leg began to shake, and he swallowed thickly as I drew closer.

I lowered myself into the chair across from him, and he shifted in his seat. Silence stretched between us as I cataloged his features. He still had the same dirty blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, but he had changed so much in the past few months. He’d put some much needed weight on, and his face wasn’t gaunt or sallow. His eyes were no longer dull and lifeless. His hair and skin glowed with health and vitality. The most drastic change was the absence of his contempt. The hostility that onceoozed from him like a bleeding wound was gone. His expression was open, and his eyes pleaded for grace and understanding.

“You look good,” I said, and he released a relieved breath. He nodded and dropped his gaze again.

“I’m starting to feel better,” he replied.

“That's good. I’m glad to hear it.”

He wrung his hands anxiously, and his leg continued to shake. My heart cracked in two. This was my baby brother. There was no need for him to feel this way around me.

“Lyle,” I said, and he glanced up at me. I reached for his hands and covered them with mine. He ceased all movements and settled his worried gaze on me. “I’m here because I love you. Whatever’s going through your head right now, you can tell me. There’s no need to be nervous.” He nodded again and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

“They, uh … they made me go to counseling,” he said, and I waited patiently for him to continue. I didn’t want to rush him or pressure him to say more than he was ready to. “And, um, I’m supposed to do all these steps, and one of them is making amends.” That leg began to bounce again. “I have a lot to make amends for.” He stared at the table unseeing. After another long pause, he continued.

“I should’ve never lied about Olivia,” he admitted, and my eyes widened in shock. I quickly schooled my expression, afraid my reaction would deter him from continuing. “I was just so angry. There I was, laid up in a hospital bed with a shattered leg and these doctors telling me I’d never play football again. My life was ruined. I had no future. I wanted out of that shit hole town so bad, and football was my only chance. And Olivia,” he ground out, his jaw tightening as anger bubbled to the surface, “she just left. She went on to pursue her dreams and didn’t look back. Just like our mom.” His voice cracked, and my chest tightened. His grief was palpable. He’d numbed his pain for so long, but now hehad no way of hiding from it. His eyes welled with tears, and one slipped out, but he quickly swiped it away.

“According to my counselor, I have abandonment issues that stem from childhood. I barely remember Mom. I was so young when she left, but it fucked up my head anyway. When Olivia left…” he began then shook his head. “It triggered something inside me. I felt abandoned all over again, and I wanted her to pay. It didn’t matter that the crash was my fault. She’d left me, and I hated her for it.”

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