Page 16 of Hold Us Close
He grins and pins me against the fridge. “Well, I have been told it’s pretty impressive.”
Rolling my eyes, I lean up and kiss him softly. “That it is.”
“You really want this?” he asks hesitantly, tilting his head in this sweet way he has.
Instead of answering, I pull him to me roughly once more. I let my hands explore his bare chest, the muscles in his stomach, his sexy hip bones that jut out just above the dark trail of hair that leads to his erection. And then I lean in and bite him. Hard. Just below his rib cage.
“Ow, Layla. Fuck,” he calls out. Good. I surprised him.
I smile sweetly up at him, giving my best innocent expression. “My bad, babe.” I lower my head and place my lips over the spot I just sank my teeth into. Running my tongue over to the other side causes him to suck in a breath. And then I bite him again. Harder this time.
“What the hell?” He grips me by the shoulders and hauls me upright. “Fucking quit.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
His eyes gleam. He’s turned on and confused. But mostly turned on. He breathes in and out deeply enough for his chest to press against mine as we stand there facing off.
“About our first kiss,” I say, trailing a finger down his heaving chest. “What exactly did you want then?”
He eyes me curiously for a moment before placing a hand flat against my chest, backing me up against the fridge once more. “This. I wanted this.” Before I have time to blink, he thrusts two fingers deep inside me.
I cry out, lost in sensation as he plunges in and out.
“And this,” he says, lowering his mouth to my neck and sucking hard enough to hurt.
“Oh god, oh god, don’t stop.” His fingers find that spot inside of me, and my legs give out.
“I wanted to fuck you right there in that alley. Wanted to bury myself in your tight wetness. I wanted to claim you, make you come so hard you’d never push me away again.” He pulls his fingers out, causing me to cry out in protest. “Don’t say you want me to fuck you, Layla, unless you really do. Because you know better than anyone, there’s a lot of shit built up inside of me. You know I can hurt you. I will hurt you. Even if I don’t mean to.”
“Sometimes hurting is good. It makes me feel alive. You want to know something?” I breathe out as he slips his fingers back inside of me.
“I do.”
“I would’ve let you. I would’ve let you take me in that alley. I would’ve let you put your fingers inside of me in high school, would’ve let you lick me, finger me, fuck me, whatever you wanted that first night. I want you every way there is. All of you. Always have. Always will.”
I can see in his eyes as he stares at me, his breath sharp pants, the desire radiating off of him—my confession sets him on fire. Landen grips me under my butt and lifts me onto him. Before I know what’s happening, I’m flat on my back on our breakfast bar. I watch as he tears his jeans off and yanks my legs apart.
“Hold tight, baby. It’s going to be rough.”
When I come to, the room is bathed in orangish-blue light. I rub my eyes and glance around. Sunset. Stretching, I see that Landen is sprawled across me, both of us naked as the day we were born. And we’re on the kitchen floor. I stretch and my back aches in protest. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten.
My head hurts and everything is blurry. I smile as my memory returns. I have a sex hangover. Landen fucked me.Reallyfucked me. Not just hard and fast sex like we’ve had before. Head-banging-into-the-wall, glass-shattering-on-the-floor, screaming-orgasms-of-epic-proportionsfucked me.
And now he’s asleep in my arms, looking like an innocent little boy. Kissing him on top of the head, I ease out from under him. After a quick search, I find my robe slung over the breakfast bar. Pulling it on, I glance outside and see that it’s sprinkling. Something breaks through my sex-sluggish brain and I remember that Landen left his phone on the balcony. I step out to retrieve it, hoping it’s not too late.
When I tap the button to activate the screen, nothing happens. Hopefully it’s just dead. Stepping quietly back inside, I take it into the bedroom and attach it to my charger. The screen comes to life instantly and I’m relieved it’s not ruined. I start to set it down on the nightstand, but nagging curiosity gets the best of me. Whoever he was talking to really upset him. And if he’s been fired, I deserve to know. I enter his password, knowing it’s the day we met, and pull up his recent calls.
Holy shit. Shock hits me so hard I almost drop the sleek black phone.
Two calls. One missed from The Colonel and one where it appears Landen called him. I check the time. Eight minutes. They spoke for eight minutes.
Disappointment makes my chest ache. What in the world would he be calling his dad for? And why wouldn’t he have told me?
I can’t help it. I know I shouldn’t, but I peek at his text messages. There are several from his coach.
Here is the link to the place I emailed you about. They’re worth checking out.
Landen didn’t respond but his coach kept texting.
