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Screw today. Screw Landon. Screw whatever thought I almost had. Whatever stupid crap I almost considered.
The only thing that can fix today is tomorrow. Sleep.
**
Weird. I went to sleep to escape him, but now here's here.
He climbs into bed with me, covers me with his arms. "Don't pretend you don't want this."
His mouth eats my protest, his hands stroke away my tension. I groan down his throat. Kissing him is like coming home. Like eating my favorite dessert. Like picking off a scab that was never supposed to be touched.
It's freeing. Perfect.
His tongue entwines with mine, leads it how he wants to. Our hands explore each other's bodies. His is more muscular, more tense and with harder edges. He touches me with an ease and familiarity, as if it was only yesterday we did this. He knows how to touch me right and he takes full advantage of this knowledge. He strokes and massages my ass until I'm crooning.
He touches me with a quick-flitting eagerness, with an excitement like it's the very first time.
I guess in a way it is.
He strokes and kisses off my clothes, then clasps me to him tight. As if he never wants to let me go. I can feel the hardness of his cock pressing into me through his pants.
Every breath we take is like sand falling out of an hourglass towards what's inevitable.
All at once, at the same time, neither of us can take it anymore. He rips off my clothes, I rip off his. Our lips feast on each other's bodies. A gasp falls out of my mouth as his lips land on my breast.
"Yes, oh yes."
He laps at it, and pleasure sizzles in me. His hand palms my other breast. Already, I'm crazy wet.
As if hearing my thought, his hand strokes down, stopping there. His fingers sweep inside of me, and another gasp falls out.
"So wet," he growls with pleasure.
He fingers me fast and merciless, and next thing I know, I'm curled into a ball, groans that don't sound like mine dribbling out of me. I come once, then again. He doesn't so much as slow.
He pats my ass. "I still love seeing you come."
Then he clambers on top of me and plunges inside me.
Ohhhhhhhh... yes. Ohhhhhhhh... yes. Ohhhhhhhh... yes, yes.
He's massive inside me, stretching me slightly as he slowly moves in and then out again.
"As perfect as I remember," he groans.
"Please," is all I can say.
His eyes snap open, full of want. He grins. "Hell yeah."
And then he fucks me hard and good. Our bodies slap together, can't get enough. I can't. Already I'm at the edge, swollen with pleasure, crying out with it. More and more and more.
And then I'm coming, and he's spanking me, and I'm coming harder, and he's plunging inside me deeper than ever and then we're both coming.
It's glorious and perfect, until I peek open my eyes.
He's not there, of course. I'm in my bed, alone. It was only a dream.
My eyes snap open the rest of the way. "Fuck's sake, Kyra."
I scramble out of bed, straight for the shower. I can't fucking believe this. I thought I was past this. I was supposed to be past this.
I can't even bear to glance at myself as I hurry past the mirror. Instead, in the shower, I crank it up on high, and let the tears fall down and the hot water batter me. But I don't let the thoughts come, the ones at the edge of my consciousness: You screwed up. You promised this would never happen again. You're slipping.
Instead, I keep the ones I want, the only ones I can afford to have: I can do this. I can handle this. I won't make the same mistakes again.
Chapter 5
Landon
Fuck me.
I glare at my miserable reflection in the bathroom. Having to leave the trial for a 'bathroom break', really? When I actually came in here to jerk off.
Fuck, what am I, 13?
So what if Kyra is hot as hell, and has, coincidently, chosen today to wear a tight red suit that belongs more in an office porno than in an actual courtroom? So fucking what? If she's trying to wind me up, to keep me unbalanced, it's working. But I still won't take the bait. I won't lose my cool in court or on the stand.
I twist on the tap, shove my hands under the cool stream and splash water on my face. There. I just need another minute in here to calm down and then...
Then what?
The past few days of grilling Dad's former colleagues and getting Madeline on the hunt haven't produced much. Goldtree won't divulge their secret source, and I can't find a link from them to my dad. But there must be one - otherwise there wouldn't be a case.
Up until now Goldtree's case has been based on the similarities between our new TV show and their planned one, as well as a supposed conversation this source had with my dad months before our TV show was thought up. They even have a recording with Dad's voice, but the conversation is so vague, them talking about a 'nature documentary', that that can't be all they've got. After all, so what - BBC Earth is a nature documentary, there's all the National Geographic wildlife and plant specials, and they aren't accusing us of plagiarizing them. Goldtree Inc. has a bombshell - I can feel it - but I need to know what it is so we can have enough time to defend ourselves against it. Fuck.
