Close to You (Fusion 2)

“Excuse me?” Riley says.

“I warned him not to touch them, but I screwed up and left them on the floor and I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, there he was, nibbling.”

“Maybe your cat doesn’t speak English,” Kat says. “Maybe he’s Spanish. Or French.”

“Well, then I’m screwed because I don’t know either of those languages,” I reply, and frown as I stare down in my glass. “He’s just going to eat all of the shoes.”

“Who’s eating what shoes?” Landon asks as he wraps his arms around me and buries his nose in my neck. “You smell delicious.”

I grin as Kat rolls her eyes. “Her cat apparently eats shoes for breakfast.”

“Scoot ate your shoes?” He rests his chin on my shoulder.

“He gnawed on them,” I reply with a sigh. “And they’re designer.”

“Maybe it’s because you pile all of your shoes in a mountain in the middle of your microscopic closet,” Riley says.

“I keep most of them in boxes, but the ones that I wear a lot do end up on the floor.”

“I’m building your closet,” Landon says, his voice pure silk next to my ear. He could be reciting the freaking alphabet for all I care. My imaginary panties are sopping wet.

“Oh God, she’s biting her lip,” Kat says to Riley. “Stop turning her on while she’s working.”

“I’m not working,” I whisper, and close my eyes. “Say something else.”

I feel his lips curl into a grin against my ear. “I’m going to make you dinner tonight.”

“We’re meeting Brian and his new girlfriend for dinner.” But hot damn, my nipples are hard.

“Brian has a new girlfriend?” Riley asks.

“And I’m going to run you a hot bath when we get home,” he continues, as if no one said anything at all, “and then I’m going to wash you from head to toe.”

“I need another drink,” Riley mutters as Landon plants his lips against my ear and whispers.

“And then I’m going to fuck you against the vanity in your bathroom.”

Oh God.

I swallow hard as he kisses my cheek and pulls away from me, my back suddenly cold where he had been pressing against me.

“You seduced her into a coma,” Kat says. “Good one.”

“It’s been way too long since I last got laid,” Riley grumbles as I blink my eyes open and swallow hard, shifting on my stool.

“Well, I guess we should go,” I stammer, needing to clear my throat twice.

“Can you walk?” Kat asks with a smirk.

“Of course I can walk,” I reply. Jesus, I hope I can walk.

“Ready?” Landon asks, offering me his hand. When my gaze climb up his body, his eyes are hot, watching me carefully with not a little humor.

“Are you enjoying this?” I ask as I take his hand and scoot off the stool.

“More than you can ever imagine,” he says, and chuckles. “Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Before he can lead me out of the room, I lean in, gesturing for him to bend down so I can whisper in his ear. “I’m not wearing any underwear under this skirt. That ought to give you something to think about.”

I pull away as Kat and Riley bust out laughing. Landon’s lips twitch, his eyes are no less hot.

“How could you hear that? I was whispering!”

“Sweetheart,” Kat says, saluting me with a glass, “you must have learned to whisper while riding in a helicopter in the middle of a hurricane.”

“Are you saying I’m not subtle?”

“You’ve never been subtle,” Landon says, hitching a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Come on, let’s get to dinner before I pull you into your office and take your desk for a spin.”

“Ew. We work in there, Landon.” Riley frowns as Kat just laughs and waves at us. Landon guides me out to his car, and when we’re both inside, before I can buckle my seat belt, he leans over and slides his hand up my leg and under my skirt, and directly to my dripping-wet pussy.

“Mm, you’re really not wearing any underwear,” he says, his lips centimeters from mine.

“I don’t lie about underwear.”

“So I see.” His finger slides over my clit and through my folds, then slips all the way inside me.

“Oh, fuck.”

“I’m going to put a lot more than my finger in here tonight, Cami,” he whispers. “I want you to stay wet, just like this, all night.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job of making sure that happens,” I reply, and push my hips against his hand. “You’re good at that.”

“I know.”

Suddenly he’s gone, starting the car, but before he can pull into traffic, I grab his wrist and pull his finger to my mouth, licking it clean.

“Do we really have to go to this dinner?” he asks, watching me intently.

“Yep.” I release his hand and buckle in, trying to look cool and unfazed, but my heart is beating overtime and my core is pulsing with pure need. Jesus, he turns me on. I swallow hard and try to distract us both. “How was your day? What’s new and exciting?”

“Day was fine,” he says, checking his blind spot and pulling out behind a Volvo. “I got my travel itinerary for next week, finally.”

“Wait. What travel itinerary?” This is news to me.

“Damn, I forgot to tell you.” He smiles over at me and pats my knee. “You have a habit of distracting me.”