We made it downtown, the skyscrapers towering over us, and Landon pulled up to a valet station sitting next to a sign proclaiming The Onyx Hotel. The building was a solid wall of black glass, reflecting the city lights back onto the street, in pools of yellow.
We walked past the sign, where water rippled down the surface, and through a set of double glass doors, held open by a bellhop in a smart back suit.
It was crazy to step out of my dated, shoddy old apartment and into his five-star world again.
Inside, I stood back as Landon walked to the front desk. With only a few words, he had a key card in his hand and we were walking to the elevator.
“No suitcase?” I asked, as the doors slid shut. He was holding my small luggage, but had nothing of his own.
“Figured I’d do some shopping,” he replied.
Before I could respond I was pushed to the wall, pinned in the corner as he kissed me, deep and hard. “I missed you,” he said, under his breath.
I could barely catch mine as he stepped away, and the elevator doors pinged open. He led me down a tall corridor, the slate broken up by squares of moonlight streaming through the sunlights every dozen feet or so.
We stopped at the tall door at the end of the hall, and after a quick swipe of the keycard, stepped into the enormous space. Marble floors spanned a massive living room, with button-back, heavy leather furniture anchored around a soft grey rug.
“Pretty,” I said, trailing my hand across the back of a buttery-leather easy chair. I paused to admire a painting, and felt a tug on my arm.
“I’m more interested in seeing the bedroom,” he said, making my heartrate spike. It had been days since he’d taken me on the floor of his den, just enough time for my body to heal. To be ready for him.
But tonight, I knew already, would be different. His mood had shifted, away from the dark place he’d been before. Tonight our passion burned beneath the surface, waiting for release.
He put my suitcase in the closet, and I tossed my purse onto the bed, walking to the bathroom. At the mirror, I checked my makeup, adjusted my hair, and gave myself a piercing stare. Anticipation built in my veins—I wanted to yank all my clothes off and hurl myself into his arms. Yet I had some hesitation, because It was hard to believe I was really here with him.
I should’ve been crawling into my bed back at the old apartment, pulling that ugly orange quilt up to my chin.
He’d come here for me, had given up his company to be with me, and all I could offer him was…. My love. I was afraid of how much everything would change after this. He’d left me to prove himself years ago, come back as a man with everything, and then given it all up for me.
If he was happy with nothing, why did he leave to begin with? This would change everything. What if he left again, with a burning need to build it all back up?
I turned away from the mirror, forcing the doubts out of my head. He was a man who made his own decisions—I knew that. And if he was at peace with it, I’d have to figure out a way to stop second-guessing it.
I opened the bathroom door, and nearly jumped back to find Landon standing there. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and his eyes burned with… an emotion I couldn’t name.
“What?”
The edges of his mouth lifted, and he held his hand up. My mouth went dry at the image of his big, strong hand gripping the glass dildo, my pulse leaping to life in my throat.
“Oh,” I said, realizing that it must’ve fallen out of my purse when I tossed it onto the bed. I guessed I didn’t have to wonder how, exactly, I’d tell him about the toy.
I reached out, wrapping my fingers around it, but he didn’t let go. Instead, without a word, he slowly shook his head. And now I knew the emotion burning in his eyes was lust, hot and intense.
He tipped his head toward the bed, and I obeyed, walking to the foot of it and turning to face him. Gently, he nudged me onto the bed, backing me up so that the back of my knees hit the mattress and I was forced to sit. He leaned down, claiming my mouth with his own, burying his hands in my hair as I opened to him, his tongue slipping over mine.
I moaned, and then we were tumbling backward, his body over mine. He slid me up the bed, somehow without breaking the kiss. Our hands were everywhere, mine raking up his back as his slid down my body. He must’ve dropped the toy onto the bed, because both hands slid up under my shirt, slipping it over my head. With one hand he unhooked my bra, and then I was bare. I reached for his shirt, but he shook his head, pushing my hands off of him.
“This is about you,” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper. “I came here for you, and I intend to show you exactly how I feel.”