Page 58 of Addicted to You

The question is followed by silence, I see Landon pause, his eyes measuring the reporter who asked, an older woman, nondescript in a brown suit.

He smiles easily before he starts to reply. The smile assures me, and I suspect most of the people in the room with him that he has nothing to worry about, and neither do they. “I should clarify that the rumors are not about the unlawful acquisition of property. They are merely speculation, driven by gossip, about the reasons why people feel confident enough to entrust their properties to the Swanson Court brand. If you take a look at the Gold Dust today Miss…

“Hader.”

“Miss Hader.” he pauses, “compared to the Gold Dust of say, two years ago, the reason should be obvious.”

More questions follow after that. I remember the article I read, what had it talked about? Use of coercion. Landon told me about having difficulty in purchasing a property in Europe. He’d spent an afternoon convincing the seller, who’d suddenly changed her mind about selling to him. Why? Could it have been the rumors? Who would hate him enough to spread such stories?

My mind goes to Evans Sinclair. His board had made him sell his hotel to Landon, and apparently he thought that was a good reason to hate him. Could he be the one feeding the rumors?

My eyes go back to Landon on the screen, watching his calm demeanor. How far would he go if he really wanted something? Far enough to stretch the boundaries of the law? Did ‘convincing’ mean the same thing to him as it did to other people? Would he put them in a position where they couldn’t, or didn’t want to say no like he had done with me?

I shake my head. Landon isn’t a bully. He was the kind of man who identified opportunities and followed them. He showed people the advantages of working with him, rather than bend them forcefully to his will.

At that moment, he walks into the suite. It’s strange, seeing him on TV and in the room at the same time. He’s looking at something on his phone, a frown on his face. He looks up at me, an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Hey.” I smile at him.

He shoves the phone into his pocket and looks at the TV screen. “I hate press conferences,” he says, shaking his head.

“You handled that one well enough.”

“I had to.”

“I read about the rumors,” I tell him, ashamed now that I had forgotten, and instead chose to concentrate on the picture of him with Ava. “Is it a problem?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “I know who’s behind them, and he’s bound by contract not to slander me directly. So he’s planting the gossip with the help of his social circle. They have gotten out of hand, but they only damage public perception. The banks and investors don’t care. Most business people would rather cut off their ears than stop doing business with me.”

His confidence reassures me. He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on one of the chairs. Then, instead of joining me on the couch, he goes over to the glass walls, loosening his tie as he walks. He looks out at the spectacular view, which stretches from the balcony outside, to the bay and the horizon beyond. It’s majestic, but nowhere near as perfect as him.

I get up to join him, drawn to him as if by a magnet. He turns to me, his hand rising to linger on my check.

“Are you worried?” I ask.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” I whisper, leaning into his hand, “Not for food anyway.”

He sighs, his eyes sliding away from mine. Is he keeping something from me? My fears rear their ugly heads again but disappear when he takes my face between his hands and rests his forehead on mine. The gesture is unexpectedly tender, and I close my eyes.

I love you.

As if he heard the thought in my mind, he draws in a breath and releases my face, pulling off his tie and tossing it in the direction of the couch. Then, he reaches for me, one hand curving around the back of my neck to pull me in for a kiss. It’s a soft one. Light and sweet, making my body quiver as his tongue gently tastes my lips.

I sigh, and he leans back to study me for a moment. Frowning, I reach for him, placing my hands on his chest and feeling his warm hard body beneath. I’ve missed him, his body, his touch… it has been two long days after all.

“You said something about fucking me so hard I would feel it for days.”

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes still on mine. “Yes, I remember.”

I frown, wondering what he’s waiting for. I trail my hand down his chest, over the hard board of his stomach, and down the front of his pants, feeling his erection, a hard thick pressure against my palm. I drop a kiss on his still clothed chest. “I’m so ready,” I whisper.

I sense his hesitation again, but before I can truly let myself wonder why, it’s gone. His hand snakes around me, lifting me against his body while he moves. I feel the glass wall at my back, just as his lips cover mine again.

This time, the kiss is deep and demanding. His tongue strokes mine, sending sweet hot shivers coursing through me. I kiss him back, sucking on his lips, his tongue… He lowers his hands to stroke my thighs, lifting my dress as his hands travel back up to my waist. Still kissing me, he molds the curve of my ass, then slips one hand into the crotch of my panties.

His fingers slide over the heated center of my arousal, and his teeth graze my lower lip. “You’re so wet.”

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