Addicted to You (Swanson Court 2)

I place a kiss on the cool skin of his shoulder, then get off the bed, sliding to my knees in front of him. “Look at me,” I whisper. “I’m glad you told me, but it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t wish the accident to happen. You were just a child afraid of his parents separating. I’m sure you made a thousand more wishes that didn’t come true. It wasn’t your wish that caused the crash. It was an accident.”

He nods, silent.

“Whenever you start thinking like that nine-year-old boy again, just remember how much you loved your mom. How no wish you made could have caused her any harm.”

A ghost of a smile crosses his lips. “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m not joking,” I tell him.

“Neither am I.” He pulls me up onto his lap. “You’re incredible,” he says. “An angel.”

I nod, accepting the compliment in place of the endearment I know I’ll never hear from him. “You need to get back in bed. Get some sleep.”

He lays me down on the bed and stretches out on top of me. “I know what I need,” he murmurs, rocking his hips against me so I can feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal, “and it’s not sleep.”

“You’re insatiable,” I whisper, melting into him.

“You’re irresistible,” he replies.

I cup his face in my hands. I love you, I say silently, the words are burning a fever in my mind, and I press my lips against his, pouring all the desperation of my feelings into the kiss. His response is to wrap his arms around me and roll onto his back so I’m on top of him, still kissing him, with my legs straddling his hips.

“You’re like a drug, Rachel,” he says when I stop for breath. “You make me forget everything. Everything apart from you.”

I don’t reply. I’m also addicted to him. Trying to survive without him was like cutting out a part of myself, and the withdrawal symptoms had almost driven me crazy. “When I’m with you, I feel like nothing is missing,” I sigh softly. “Like everything finally fell into place.”

It’s the closest I can say without actually telling him that I’m hopelessly in love with him. He pulls me towards him and claims my lips again, his erection pressing against the inside of my thigh. I pull away just long enough to gently guide him inside, sliding down until his full length is sheathed in me.

His eyes cloud and his lips form my name.

I close my eyes, almost unable to bear how good it feels. It won’t last, I think sadly, painfully aware, that being like this would never mean the same thing to him as it did to me. The sad thoughts make me determined to get as much pleasure as I can from him. I guide our movements, riding him hard, using the physical sensations to push all thought from my mind. Soon the pleasure is too intense for me to think at all. Landon rears up, gripping my hips, his lips greedily sucking on a nipple as I ride him faster and faster. We come at the same time, holding tightly to each other. There are tears in my eyes, from the exquisite pleasure, and also from the inescapable despair.

WHEN I wake up in the morning, Landon is still asleep, I spend a few moments greedily drinking in his features before I go to the kitchen to try to rustle up a passable breakfast.

Cooking is not one of my strengths, so after checking the cupboards and analyzing the stuff remaining from yesterday, I make a big production out of French toast and chopped fruits before Landon joins me.

He’s freshly showered, and somehow, devastatingly sexy in a purple terrycloth robe. He has his tablet under his arm and is talking on the phone. He grins at me, and pours himself coffee, still talking to whoever’s on the other end. He pauses long enough to place a kiss on the back of my neck before he makes a plate for himself and goes out to the patio to continue his call.

I watch his retreating back with an unhappy frown, then I settle down to eat breakfast alone. I finish up and stack the dishes, then go to the patio to peek. He’s sitting on one of the deckchairs, still talking on the phone. Now he has his tablet on his lap too, going through whatever it is that he’s discussing. He looks up and sees the frown on my face, then smiles apologetically and blows me a kiss.

I make a pouty face, then go back inside. He had told me before we left that he would be working, so I can’t complain. After I shower, I consider calling Laurie to gossip, but I decide that I can do that after I get back. Thinking about her has reminded me of the lingerie set I never got to wear, so I find it in my bag and slip into the sheer lace and satin ensemble.

It’s definitely sexy, and looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror makes me want to go out to the patio and make Landon forget what he’s working on. I’m sorely tempted, but I decide to let him work, instead, concentrating on finding something to read on my e-reader. After flicking through the many titles, I settle on a fantasy novel, and soon I’m immersed in a world of prophecies, dragons, and magical powers I wouldn’t mind having. When Landon comes into the bedroom a few hours later, I’m thoroughly engrossed.

He sits at the edge of the bed. “What’re you reading?”

I look up from the screen long enough to give him a side eye. His eyes are glued to my scantily clad body. Which serves him right, I decide. “Are you done working?”

He pulls his eyes to my face. “Yes.”

“Well, now I’m busy,” I tell him, going back to my book.

“I can see that.” I hear the smile in his voice as he takes one of my feet in his hands, massaging it gently. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be?” I turn a playful scowl in his direction. “You told me you were going to be working. So now, if you don’t mind. Someone has a guild of evil magicians to challenge and defeat.”

Landon laughs. “Sounds critical. I wouldn’t dare to interfere with something of that magnitude, with potentially far-reaching consequences.

He continues to massage my toes, and it feels so good, I have to bite back a sigh of pleasure. “What’re you doing?” I ask suspiciously.