“I willnot—”
“Landon,” Nathaniel interrupts, spinning me to face him. “If you want me to leave you alone, if you want me to go, then we need to talk. Get on the fucking bike.”
Alright, fine. But only because I’m confident that in a one-on-one fight, I could escape. And, if I’m honest, I’m kind of curious as to what he has planned.
Could I use this against him? I guess we’ll find out.
Reluctantly, I follow him to his bike.
Nathaniel
6
WITH LANDON PRESSED TOmy back, his thighs squeezing firmly into my sides, and his hands resting on the tank in front of me, all I can think about is how he looked exiting the gym.
It’s hard to focus on streetlights when I can feel the sweat from his biceps along mine; the smell of him is so pungent and suffocating that all I can imagine is him smelling and looking just like this, but under me.
How does this fuckers sweat smell like candy? Or maybe I’m justthathorny. As soon as I’m back in Oregon tomorrow, I’m calling a hook-up from town, and I’m fixing this little problem.
Landon rides as if he’s done it before. With his weight evenly distributed and his hands placed perfectly, I imagine he’s been on the back ofplentyof bikes. And that kind of enrages me.
The drive to the hotel the organization booked me is short—truly only fifteen minutes—but it feels like an eternity with his hot body pressed to mine. I forced him to wear the only helmet I have, even though it’s most definitely illegal in California, but at least now I can’t feel his soft hair brushing my neck or his panting breath.
It pisses me off to no end that I’m attracted to him. I have a job to do and a very negative opinion of his personality; those two things are normally enough to dissuade me, but right now, I can’t stop picturing him crying.
And begging and pleading and so fucking desperate for more of my cock shoved inside of his hot—
I park in front of the hotel, shaking my head lightly as Landon hops off the bike, ripping the helmet off. I need to get rid of these thoughts.
I have to feed him the B109.
“What are we doing at a hotel?” Landon asks, his voice dripping with annoyance.
“It’s not like I have a summer house out here,” I counter, grabbing my keys and heading toward the entrance.
I can hear Landon’s heavy footsteps behind me as I walk into the elevator. Surprisingly, he’s quiet. Almost as if he is shocked to be here and rethinking his decision now that I’m about to get him alone.
Is he scared? God, I hope he’s terrified.
The hotel I was given isn’t crazy—a queen bed across from a desk with a flatscreen on top. By the door is a small bathroom, and a chair is nestled next to the kitchen area against the far window.
As we enter, I sit down on the edge of the bed, eyeing Landon, who stands defensively next to the closed door.
“Now that you’ve kidnapped me, what do you want?” Landon demands, his arms crossed over his chest, making his muscles bulge obscenely.
“I didn’tkidnapyou. If I remember correctly, you willingly got on that bike.” And I wish it weremybike, and not one I’m renting while I’m here, because I’d love to have had his ass planted firmly against something I own.
“Yeah, only because you said you’d leave me alone after,” Landon grumbles.
I watch his vibrant green eyes roll, his bottom lip jutting out slightly.
“I’ve been watching you,” I say, making his gaze snap to mine. “I’ve seen how people fawn over you, doing whatever they have to do to get your attention.”
“Stalker much?” he sneers, but a slight blush is coating his cheeks, as if this observation embarrasses him somehow.
“What I don’t understand,” I continue, “is why you insist on using that power of—what is it called? Manipulation?”
I’ve never truly seen this specific gift before, so I’m unsure what to call it.
