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For Landon, it’s like a burnout before a drag race, I’ve noticed. Good for me, I guess. It preps him, gets him ready for the main event, and gives him a better shot at lasting ‘til the end. Did I mention that he hates being hard and having to deal with it in any other way aside from shoving his dick balls deep in my vagina? I never turn him down either. It’s no secret that we fuck like rabbits when he’s home since we go two weeks with no touching, no kissing. Really, it’s a little longer when you count his travel time to and from work. California isn’t exactly a short driving distance from the gulf like it’s always been for him.
I was nervous he would get tired of the constant flying and spending the money it takes to do so, which is why it was a relief when he said he wanted to move here. It’s hard to feel guilty about him leaving his family to be with me. He’s putting most of the effort into making this work.
Every chance we’re completely alone, there is something sexual going on. A few cyber appointments during his hitch on nights I’m not busy and he’s not too tired aren’t the same, and we more than make up for it. Cybersex isn’t all that easy when he shares a room with multiple guys. He can’t be verbal about it.
I stop at his neck and look down at him. His eyes divert between my face and my crotch. He finally removes his hands from the head pillow they were forming and places them on my thighs to help keep my dress up. Wouldn’t wanna get stains on it. I come forward one more step, aligning what needs to be aligned. “Hey, you said you wanted to kiss a pair of lips. Get after it,” I answer him, and then lower myself over his mouth.
Instead of letting him start like usual, I grab his hair to keep him still and watch while I rub my wet center over his chin and mouth, getting everything slick. When it spreads upward, creating a slippery path to my clit, my movements become harsher and my hips buck, creating a rough grind against his lips. His eyes remain on mine. Only God knows what’s on his mind.
His tongue presses against my clit in a hard point, giving me more. My eyes close from the pressure, my head drops back as my chest pushes forward, and moan after moan fills the room, mixing with the music playing. With me doing all the work my orgasm builds very quickly, and within seconds it crests, changing my heated grind to a slow scrub as I ride it out, my body already trying to go limp just before it’s over; all except one muscle, which just seems to keep tightening.
With no notice or warning of what is coming, we’re flipped until my bottom is hanging off the edge of the bed and my dress is shoved up to my chest. His pants are undone in one motion and being pushed to his thighs, his heavy dick drawing my eyes lower as he shoves my legs back. When he pushes the head against my entrance, my mind finally decides to work, and I shove his hips back with the balls of my bare feet. “You’re not putting that in me until you give me an apology.”
“Okay.” He shoves a finger in instead. Then two. My bottom rolls into the mattress, my toes already curling. I try to force myself up the bed, but he grips my thigh and pulls me back down, our eyes still locked on one another.
“Landon,” I grit, trying to close my legs.
He pries them back apart by shoving one as far as it will go, the mattress stopping it. His fingers twist and turn, slide in and out, hook me when they’re knuckle deep. I can’t think because it feels too good, but I’m about to kick the shit out of him.
“This was my favorite birthday yet,” he says out of nowhere, forcing all my body parts to relax like he commanded them to. “Every year of adulthood has been the same. People that never care to speak the other three-hundred-sixty-four days of the year blow up my Facebook wall. My friends and family send me a text or a call. I usually get drunk if I’m not at work. It’s just another day for me, a reminder that aging is monotonous. This year I had you. Twenty-five. Asked a girl good enough to move away from home for to prom. Got birthday sex in a high school parking lot. Was stunned for the first time by a girl in a dress.” He pulls his fingers out of me. “You don’t have to ‘try’ to make it special, Paxtyn, you already do. My life has felt more like an adventure in six months than it has my entire life. The common denominator is you.”
He grabs my hands and leans down when a tear falls from each eye. “Fuck you, asshole. All you had to say was ‘I’m sorry’.”
He chuckles. “You gonna see ‘em through? Plenty left.”
I link my feet over his butt. “Every single one.”
“Then put it in. Time is running out.”
I reach between us and grab his dick, guiding it to my opening. He pushes inside when I get his shirttail out of the way, filling me completely. My head lifts, my eyes stuck on his mouth. He thrusts in and out of me. “Fuck the lipstick. I’ll fix it.”
And as if we were thinking the same thing, our mouths collide.
FOUR
PRESLEY
My headlights cast on the trunk of a car that doesn’t belong here as I pull into the drive. Maybe it’s a friend of Sayler’s? Who knows. I’m tired. I just want to soak in a hot bath and go to sleep, but I feel like I still have so much to do, not to mention I know I’ve been neglecting Konnor lately. Between the cleaning, organizing, and washing, I don’t stop when I’m home, trying to prepare for when she comes.
Gabby jokes about my ‘nesting’ because it’s so much worse than when Sayler was at this stage of her pregnancy, and maybe that’s because of the circumstances of how we each came to be pregnant, I don’t know. It doesn’t help that the add-on nursery has taken months to complete between getting permits for everything and the actual work being done, so in a way, I’m playing catch-up for the decorating stage that most girls do from the time they find out the gender to delivery. Mine has been compacted into a short amount of time.
I’ve been looking at properties most of the day since I was busy with schoolwork all week, trying to get ahead for when Kylar arrives in case she comes before the semester ends for summer break. Dad has been on my ass about opening a hotel on South Beach like it’s that easy in the heart of Miami. Space is limited. But he said it would be a project to keep me busy for the next few years while I’m finishing school and is a must-have experience to go anywhere in family’s company.
He’s testing me to make sure I’m not wasting his money or his time to teach me, to see if I’m cut out for this job being so young, like he doesn’t have to sign off on every decision made. ‘I’m in training indefinitely’ he says. I have to prove myself like anyone else. I don’t get any special treatment just because I’m his daughter. I’m salaried like any other full-time employee, and let me just say, it’s nothing to brag about. I have to earn pay raises too. I don’t get to step into an executive position like my brother did.
Dad loves to bring up that Preston was a college graduate when he started with the company like all people are the same. My brother loved college for the party life. He took advantage of his full time spent there with no major responsibility. I’m not even sure he would have gone to work for the family business had it not been expected of him simply because he’s the male of the bloodline. He’s the one that will carry on the Dunagin name.
Dad thinks I have too much going on too soon just because he and Mom were older when they started a family. He’s had years to marinate in his success, and smart investors don’t lose money or they wouldn’t still be in business. I want this. I can handle it regardless of me being a mother or not, a student or not, a wife or not. I know I can. I was bred for it. Just because I’ve known since I was a kid who I want to spend forever with doesn’t mean I won’t be good at this job.
By the time I walked the last property it was getting dark, so I ended up grabbing takeout to cut the night short. My feet are swollen and my back is aching. I don’t feel like cooking a damn thing. The second I got in my car the shoes came off.
As I pull up the driveway, I notice the garage is open, with two bodies standing inside it. One I would recognize anywhere, despite how much he’s physically changed in the last few years. Konnor is propped against the front fender of his black Tahoe, his arms across his chest. My headlights shine on the person that’s standing in the space where I normally park, and the second I see red, my heart plummets.
I slam my foot on the brake in front of the garage, immediately throwing the shifter into park, and then jump out as fast as my unbalanced body will allow. My mind blanks and everything becomes reflex.
“What is she doing at my house?” I yell as I storm inside the dark garage barefooted, now lit up by my headlights.
“Wanted to talk,” he says flatly, but it strikes me like he shouted it.
