Page 77 of Finding Lord Landry

“I am so fucking sorry,” I said as soon as we were alone.

Kenji shrugged as he headed toward the dressing room, his slender shoulders and movement graceful as always. “She’s a product of her upbringing like the rest of us.”

“I had a similar upbringing, Kenji, and I hope to hell I wouldn’t be rude enough to ask someone how they could afford college.”

I followed him into the dressing room to grab workout clothes. My hope was to do enough squats and leg curls that I would barely be able to hobble to bed later, much less fantasize about squatting over Kenji and railing him into the mattress. Maybe I could linger upstairs in the workout room long enough for him to fall asleep.

He shrugged again. “At least she seemed stymied a bit when I explained I’d paid for my degree with chess winnings. I didn’t tell her they were from gambling with other students rather than taking prize money in tournaments.”

“I love that story. Your grandmother told me—” I bit off the words, realizing he still didn’t know I’d snuck down to Florida while he was in San Cordova.

He finished pulling his sweater off. “My grandmother?”

“No, sorry, I meant to say your grandmother was the one who encouraged you with chess, right? I remember you telling me about it.” My face heated with the lie, so I turned away and busied myself in the far side of the room, rooting through a drawer for my kit.

“Yeah. She used to punish me by making me play against her. I loved it, though.”

I turned to look at him over my shoulder, noting the long line of his back, the protruding angles of his shoulder blades, the way his waist nipped in, causing his trousers to sit low on his hips. The barest hint of an elastic band was visible over the waistband of the pants.

I stared at the rounded muscles of his ass, filling out the fabric and complementing the drape. My hands knew the shape of him and itched to cup and squeeze and caress. To move up his smooth back and into his shiny, dark hair.

“…cares about you. At least, I assume so.”

I blinked and replayed his words. “Oh, Aunt Lydia? No. She cares about her reputation. She’s nice enough, don’t get me wrong. She’s actually very loving and protective toward Cora, and she was in love with my uncle when he died. But unfortunately, she runs with a crowd that’s all about status and rank. Her mother was the same way, pushed her on my uncle until he couldn’t help but give in. They were lucky, though. The two of them made it work and eventually fell in love. Cora got sick when she was a baby. Supposedly, that brought my aunt and uncle closer.”

I swallowed and remembered I was trying to keep my distance from Kenji, not tempt myself with sweet treats that were off-limits. “Anyway, Lydia’s biggest goal in life is marrying Cora off to a title so she can go through her highlight reel all over again. Kids in all the fancy schools, exclusive invitations to the inner circle, lavish wealth and society intrigue, and blah blah.”

He bent over at the waist and pushed his pants down, leaving me staring breathlessly at the cotton-covered bulge between his legs. Floaty bits of dust motes filled my head, and it took me a minute to realize he was saying something.

“Huh?” I said, licking my lips.

He turned and flicked his long hair over one shoulder. His small brown nipples puckered in the chill space, and his winter-pale abs tightened as he twisted at his waist to reach for the pajama pants on the nearby counter.

“I said thank you for defending me.” He slid his long legs into the loose pants one leg at a time like a goddamned torturer from medieval times. “You didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate it.”

My heart pounded in my chest, and my dick pounded in my pants. I held my workout clothes in a ball in front of me before quickly leaning over to grab my running shoes. “Yeah, sure.”

“Landry… can we talk?” A flush rode high on his cheekbones. “I have some things I need to say?—”

“I, uh. Maybe later. I’m going to work out right now.”

“But you already ran today. Don’t you think—?” His eyebrows scrunched in concern, and he reached out a hand to touch my arm.

I jumped away like he was contagious because it was that or throw him down on the bed.

“No!” I said a bit too loudly. “No. Thank you, but I know what I’m doing. Just… make yourself at home, and I’ll…”

I gave up trying to find words and raced out of the room, up the stairs, and into the workout room before stripping off my dinner clothes and yanking on my athletic kit. I started with jumping jacks to warm up my muscles and punish my dick. By the time my muscles were loose, my cock was heavy and strangled in my tight pants.

“Fuck!” I adjusted myself and moved to the leg press machine. With every rep, I forced myself to imagine Aunt Lydia flirting with a young drinks attendant in the Maldives until my pants were loose and my stomach was vaguely nauseated.

Then I yanked out my phone and changed the song. Tank’s “When We” moved slow and sultry through my earbuds. I used the pace to control my muscles, to focus on lowering my knees toward my chest as slowly as possible, holding it for a beat while it burned, and then shoving the plate up, pushing through my heels and squeezing my ass. I watched the muscles of my quadriceps contract and stretch.

With every repetition of the wordfuck, I ground my teeth together, remembering.

Remembering the feel of Kenji’s body as he let me in. As he begged me for more.

As he let me into his body.

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