“You get so”—I rocked hard into her—“deep.”
My hand smacked her ass, and she yelped softly at the touch. The noise went straight to my dick, and I knew that I wasn’t going to hold out for long. Not with her making those noises, not with her ass in my hands, not with my dick buried deep inside her while she was bent over this way.
I picked up my pace, and soon, we were coming together. I gritted my teeth as I finished and then pulled back. I hastily cleaned up after myself and tossed the tissue into the trash can. Heidi tugged her skirt back down and then collapsed into one of the chairs.
“You know this was not what I meant by after work.”
I grinned. “I know. But are you complaining?”
She shook her head. “You’re going to get me in so much trouble.”
“Go away with me,” I said, bending down and capturing her lips once more.
“Where would we go?” she asked, already giving in.
“You showed me a part of your life this weekend. Let me show you mine.”
Thirty
Heidi
It was hard to stay mad at Landon for being so reckless at work. I knew that I should have tried harder, especially since I’d gotten the promotion. But being with him was like living on a perpetual high. No matter the withdrawals I might have to suffer later, I wanted the next fix.
So, I’d agreed to go away with him.
It hadn’t actually even been a question. Mostly because, when he’d told me where we were going, I’d squealed with excitement.
His world was golf—more specifically, the PGA Tour Championship in Atlanta that weekend. It was the finals for the golf world where the best of the best came to compete for the FedEx Cup and the coveted first place ten-million-dollar prize money. The Masters was still the be-all and end-all of golf as far as I was concerned, not that I knew that much about the sport, but the Tour Championship was an amazing opportunity.
Landon’s friend Ryan Copeland had sent over tickets for some big event that weekend. Landon could get in pretty much anywhere off of his name, but I was pretty sure Ryan’s thoughtfulness had won him over.
We arrived late Friday night after work. We couldn’t risk being seen leaving work early together again. It was bad enough that Julia had suspected I was up to something when I told her again that I couldn’t go shopping. Luckily, Emery was with Jensen in New York City this weekend to see Colton. So, it was pretty easy to get out of shopping.
I’d packed more than my fair share of clothes for this trip. Even though we were only going to be there for two days, I wanted to be sure that I was prepared.
When Landon got a look at my outfit on Saturday morning, he grinned and pulled me back into the bedroom. “Forget the tournament. Let’s stay in.”
I laughed throatily. “I am in a khaki skirt, polo, and tennis shoes!”
“Sexiest I’ve ever seen you.”
“Oh my God, you get turned on by golf attire! I’ve heard of everything now.”
He kissed my lips. “I get turned on by you in golf attire. You look sexy as hell in everything you wear, but you wore this for me. So, how can I not like it?”
“Are you trying to stall so that we don’t have to go out there?”
He gave me a searching look. “Why would you think that?”
“Because…you’re not playing,” I said softly. “I thought that would be hard on you.”
“It is.”
“Yeah, I could tell.”
“How do you read me so perfectly?” He tugged me closer.
“Because I know you.”
“I approve of this.”
“You’d better.”
He laughed. “Oh God, I’m so glad that I brought you with me.”
A knock on the door startled us apart, and Landon waved away my anxiety. I wasn’t completely comfortable with being here with him. Even though I knew no one and clearly no one here would know me, I couldn’t relax. This was Landon’s element, not mine.
Landon opened the door and shook the hand of the guy at the door. “Hey, man!”
“Landon fucking Wright,” the guy said, strutting into the hotel suite as if he owned the place. He was an exceptionally tall and handsome African American man with the most amazing smile. “Finally got your ass back to a golf tournament.” His dark eyes shot to me, and his eyebrows rose. “Well, hello there.”
“Hello,” I said with a raised brow.
He reached out and placed a kiss on my hand with a boyish grin. “I’m sure Landon has told you all about his charming single friend.”
Landon rolled his eyes. “Heidi, this is Ryan Copeland. He’s on the Tour.”
“Um…hi. You’re the one who got us the tickets for tonight.” I deftly pulled my hand out of his.
“Us?” Ryan said, glancing between me and Landon. “You left Miranda and already found the hottest replacement on the course? The man with no game always gets the hottest fucking girls. How do you do it?”
“Heidi isn’t a replacement,” Landon said with a shake of his head. “Heidi is…her own person. She’s not a real PGA.”
“A real PGA?” I asked in confusion.
“It’s awful,” Ryan said with a grin, as if he didn’t find it that awful. “Party Groupie Association. Basically, the putt sluts who chase down our balls, if you know what I mean.”
I opened and then closed my mouth. I hadn’t really thought that much about what the girls who followed them around on Tour were like. Sure, everyone knew that Tiger Woods had fucked more people than the average porn star, but it just hadn’t registered with me.
“I suppose I do,” I finally said.
“Try to avoid the locker-room talk,” Landon said. “Y’all are disgusting enough without bringing it to my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? Girlfriend.” Ryan sighed. “I thought you were bringing me a treat. I’m so disappointed in you.”
“No luck. You’ll just have to settle for someone else.”
“Alas,” Ryan said. He winked at me. “Well, come on. I tee off in a couple of hours, and we should head to the clubhouse before I have to warm up.”
We followed Ryan out of the hotel and met his caddy, Gerald, waiting in the front seat. I slid into the backseat with Landon.
“Who is your caddy?”
“Jake Gibson,” Landon told me. “We’ve been together from the start, but I had to let him go when I got injured.”
“Jake is your main man, Wright,” Ryan said from the front seat. “He will be back when you are.”
Landon didn’t comment. I knew that he was thinking that he might never be back. Though he seemed fine when he was sitting behind a desk and pushing papers, I knew that he was not ready to swing a club…not even to walk a full course.
The clubhouse was Southern and gorgeous. I couldn’t get over the number of trees and hills and the overall humid nature of the late September tournament. Atlanta was about as different from Lubbock as anything could be. I wasn’t sure that I liked that my hands were sweating just from walking outside, but it was undeniably stunning.