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"Fuck you," she groans.
I pause. Her pussy clasps onto my cock desperately.
She groans. "Landon!"
"That's it." I start up again, and her moaning gets louder. "What's that, baby?"
"Landon!" she shrills, as she comes.
I don't stop now, though. I ride out her orgasm, fucking her so hard that she sinks down and I have to hold her upright with my arms. Fuck is it hot. When I feel her shaking again with another orgasm, I let loose, spilling into her.
She's still wet. It's wet everywhere. I'm -
My eyes snap open.
In the shower. Right.
As pleasure spills out of me, I frown. That little fantasy went on for far longer than normal or even necessary. Normally, a few minutes with a good porno and I'm all set. Why the fucking novel about fucking Kyra?
I wash myself off, turn off the shower, then step out. It doesn't matter, at any rate. It's done. My head is clear. I'm free of her.
I've barely sat down to eat when my intercom buzzes.
"Helloooo, rooooom serrrrrvice," a put-on nasally voice I still recognize says.
"Fuck off, Nolan," I say, hanging up. I press the button to let him in.
When he comes up, though, I see that he's not alone.
"Were there plans I missed?" I ask my brothers.
"Not exactly," Greyson says. He looks about as happy to be here as I'm feeling. "Just thought a little brother talk was in order."
"At CANOE," Emerson chimes in. "Drinks on me?"
That's our baby brother, always trying to play peacekeeper.
"Come onnn," Nolan whines when I don't respond. "We haven't had one of these in weeks. Besides, shit is hitting the fan."
Always one for the eloquently upbeat quips, my twin.
"Fine," I agree. "But we aren't staying up half the night like last time."
"We didn't stay up half the night," Nolan argues. "We were in bed at like, 4:00 AM."
I roll my eyes. "You're right - that's closer to all night."
"Besides, Greyson's a dad now," Emerson chimes in.
Greyson rubs his eyes. "Don't remind me. We just got Dakota used to a decent sleep schedule last week and I'm praying that he actually sticks to it."
"Don't pretend you don't love it." Nolan makes a face. "I mean, if it were me it really would be a living hell, this whole one woman and baby thing. But I saw you on your wedding day."
"Fuck off." Greyson scowls, but I can see he's trying not to smile.
Yep, he's crazy about that woman and kid. Anyone with eyes can see it.
"Enough wife and baby talk," I cut in. "We going out or not?"
"We're going." Nolan's already heading to the door. "Emerson had me at 'drinks on me'."
At CANOE, Emerson orders us all fancy cocktails, then Greyson folds his hands on the table. "So. These plagiarism claims. What's the deal?"
I quirk an eyebrow at him.
"Right," he says, with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."
After all, Greyson was the President before me. The role went to him after our dad died unexpectedly. But Greyson didn't enjoy it, and he stepped down several months ago to be the producer on our new Storm Media TV series, giving the title to me. He's helped me and coached me along the way, but we still aren't totally settled into our new roles. Plus, he is still the eldest.
"Forget it," I say. "We do need to talk about it."
"Don't tell me," Nolan says gloomily, already downing the last of his drink. "Another shitacular legacy of Colin Storm."
While our dad was a business and media superpower when he was alive, he was also, as we've learned since his death, an asshole. The kind of asshole who not only left the company's books in an illegal mess, but secretly diverted company funds to the Costa Rican government for priority access to film the new streaming series as well. Not to mention these plagiarism claims we're dealing with now.
"Nothing conclusive has been found yet," I say. "But what has been found suggests that the premise for the Storm TV nature series was plagiarized from Goldtree Inc."
"But is it true?" Emerson asks.
I shrug, leaning back in the booth. "Don't know. Dirk hasn't found anything. Wouldn't put it past Dad, though."
"So, what do we do?" Greyson asks, forehead creased. He has as much to lose from this case as any of us. He and Harley have killed themselves making Storm TV a success, and it's still their passion project.
Nolan leans over to give me a light punch. "Landon here left out the best part."
I glare at him. "Best part?"
He shrugs, giving his long light brown hair a derisive shake. "Alright - our best chance." He turns to the others. "Guess who the lawyer for Goldtree is?"
They give him blank stares.
"Uh... The Ronald, since he left us high and dry, and won't return our calls, and is rumored to have actually left Florida for the first time in months?" Emerson quips after a minute.
