Drunk Dial

Landon’s place was nice. It was small but with an open floor plan and a decent view of the water.

When he brought me into his bedroom, he was showing me the view from his window, but all I could do was stare at him when he wasn’t looking. He suddenly turned to me and seemed to catch me gawking. I must have turned red or something because he could apparently sense my nerves.

“Relax. I don’t bite.” He approached and placed his hands on my shoulders, and I felt it in my core. “It’s just me. Don’t be nervous.”

That’s the problem. It’s you, Landon. And I don’t trust myself.

Was I nervous? Sure. But it certainly wasn’t because I was scared he’d try anything. If anything, I was caught off guard by how much my body wanted to succumb to every desire within it at the moment, especially when he touched me; how much I became intoxicated by his smell; how much I wanted to run my tongue along his full bottom lip. But it was evident that Landon was being careful. He was taking things slowly.

“I feel safe here. My nerves aren’t about any kind of apprehension. It’s more of a nervous excitement, one I’m not used to feeling.”

“Well, good, then.” He grinned. “You like breakfast for dinner?”

“Yes.”

Nudging his head, he said, “Follow me.”

“It’s practically morning anyway,” I said, taking his hand as he led me to the kitchen.

Landon ended up making us a delicious batch of cinnamon French toast before setting me up with a hot shower.

It intrigued me that Landon had high-end Anna Sui shower gel in his bathroom. That made me wonder if a woman had given it to him, or if she’d left it here. I tried to shake the idea out of my mind.

When I finished bathing, I wrapped myself in a towel and peeked out of the bathroom.

“Do you have something I can wear?”

He yelled from the living room, “I left some clothes on the floor outside the door. Those will have to do for now. Tomorrow we’ll go out and buy you some stuff.”

Sure enough, there was a pile of items folded on the ground right by my feet.

“Thank you,” I hollered, picking them up.

Returning to the steam-filled bathroom, I put on the black, vintage Def Leppard T-shirt and baggy, black drawstring shorts. The shirt was roomy, so I decided to tie the bottom into a knot just above my navel to make it appear more feminine.

After I ventured out of the bathroom, I found Landon in his room. He had his hands in his pockets and was looking out the sliding glass door that led to his balcony.

“I feel homeless,” I said.

“Well, you’d be the most beautiful homeless person I’ve ever seen, then.” He glanced down to my stomach, noticing that I’d rolled up my shirt. He stared at my bellybutton. “You have a navel ring. I didn’t notice it earlier.”

“My skirt was covering it before.”

“I love it.”

Landon walked toward me. The sexual tension in the air was thick as he brushed his fingertip against my belly ring. I couldn’t even describe what that one little touch was doing to my body.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I got it pierced around the time I started dancing.” Landon wore one small, black stud in his right earlobe, and I’d noticed earlier that his tongue was also pierced. Finding the latter extremely sexy, I said, “I love your tongue ring. Is that your only piercing besides your ear?”

He cocked a grin and rubbed his chin, looking uncertain of whether to answer my question. “No. I have another.”

“Where?”

The smile on his face said it all. “Not some place I can show you right now.”

I suddenly felt hot. “Oh.”

He lifted his brow, looking amused at my slightly embarrassed reaction. “You asked.”

“I did.”

He grabbed my hair playfully, apparently finding my embarrassment cute.

“Do you happen to have a hairbrush?” I asked.

Scratching his head, he said, “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

He returned with one and caught me off guard when instead of handing it over, he walked behind me and began to brush through my wet hair. I closed my eyes and cherished the feeling of his warm body at my back, his hands tugging at my long locks while he gently ran the brush through my strands. And of course—as anyone with a pulse would be—I was still thinking about his pierced cock.

“I don’t remember your hair being this dark when we were kids,” he said. “It’s so black…gorgeous.”

“Yeah. It’s natural—at least I can say that for some things, right?”

He ignored my attempt at self-ridicule, not dignifying it with a response.

I felt his soothing words against my neck. “How long can you stay?”

Answering honestly, I said, “I don’t know.”

He stopped brushing and ran his hand down the length of my hair, stopping just short of my ass. His touch was electrifying.

“Was your job okay with you leaving to come here?”

“I have no clue. I just told them I had a family emergency and left.”

“You’d better call them tomorrow for peace of mind, but just know if for any reason they give you trouble, I’ve got your back. I’ll make sure you can pay your rent.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“You couldn’t even afford the plane ticket to get here. It’s clear you need that job. And if you sacrificed it to come see me, then I’m gonna make damn well sure you’re taken care of.”

Not knowing what else to say, I simply whispered, “Thank you.”

Landon walked over to his dresser. There was a bunch of elastics tied together in a giant ball. He took one off and placed it in his mouth, pulling it between his teeth. That was oddly sexy for some reason.

He came up behind me again and gathered my hair into a low ponytail, fastening the band around it. His hand lingered before he let go. My body craved the return of his touch. Having his hands on me was quickly becoming my favorite thing.

I turned around to face him. Our eyes locked for several seconds. It was a little unnerving how badly I wanted him to touch me again. But he didn’t.

“You take my bed,” he finally said. “Tomorrow we’ll have breakfast on the beach. Then, we can have that talk.”

“You don’t have to work tomorrow?”

“Mel’s taking care of the truck. I’m officially on sick leave for as long as you’re here.”

“Can you do that?”

“I’m the boss. I can do whatever I want.” He headed toward the door. “I’m gonna let you get some sleep. It’s morning already in Michigan.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be hitting the hay soon, too.”

“Okay. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Rana.” He tapped on the door twice then disappeared.

As I lay in Landon’s bed, swimming in his intoxicating, masculine smell, I realized I was listening to the actual sounds of the ocean. No machine…the real deal.