What did everyone else have that Tori didn't have? She was attractive. She was smart. She was funny. She was just the right amounts of sweet and sassy. She was a hell of an employee. She'd made it abundantly clear that if her boss Liam Edenhoff were to ever say “jump”, she would immediately respond with “how high? On one foot, or two? Would you like me to make you a sandwich at the same time?”
And yet she might as well have been a painting on the wall. He'd never noticed her as anything more than his pal. Like an old frat buddy. Or a golden retriever.
She'd told herself she could wait for him. She'd waited for a long time. Through the awkward months when he'd been involved with her friend Katya, when he'd been completely off limits. Barely more than a thought in her head. Then, when Katya had given Tori the green light to go after him, he'd been too busy fucking his way through her building. After that, he'd had his weird thing with Brighton Stone.
And that whole time, Tori had been there in the background. Hanging out with him at work. At home. Any time. All the time. Listening to him moan about Wulfric winning their little competition over Katya. Commiserating with him over how horrible his twin brother was to him.
What could she say, she was a sucker for a surfer.
Then, abruptly, he'd stopped sleeping with Brie. Stopped having sex, period. Now was finally her chance! She could make her move and he would finally see her. Finally realize she'd always been there.
Before she could so much as take a step in his direction, though, someone else made a move, and once again, Tori was thrust into the background. Put on a shelf, gone and forgotten.
It's always the quiet ones.
“Fuck him!” Tori slurred loudly.
“You got it bad,” Tim the bartender sighed. He'd worked upstairs at The Garden, Liam's club, for several years. Tori had only been there for six months, but she already outranked him. He didn't seem to hold it against her, though, and they got along great.
“No,” she shook her head. “No, he's gonna get it ... bad. God! What's wrong with me?”
“Nothing that I can see from here,” Tim laughed, his eyes skating over her body.
Tori glanced down at herself and for a moment, two sets of breasts looked back up at her. She was dressed in her usual club wear – a tight, low cut, cropped shirt. Tight shorts that rode low on her hips. Large ankle boots which took her from kind of tall to “are you a model?” height.
“Exactly! Exactly! But does he want any of this? Nooooo,” she said, waggling her finger in the air. Tim laughed again.
“If he's seen that and still doesn't want you, then honey, he's either gay, or stupid. Fuck him.”
Tim didn't know the man they were both damning to hell was also their boss. Tori got sloppy drunk on occasion, but she never ever spoke out of turn. She knew how to keep a secret.
“He's an asshole,” she said, nodding.
“Maybe he's just an idiot. Most men are, you know.”
“He is pretty stupid ...”
“You know what you should do?” Tim started. “You should go find that boy and just grab him by the ears and kiss him.”
“Yeah. If hints haven't been working and your cleavage hasn't been working, well, a kiss will sort it out once and for all.”
“But what if ...” hiccup “... he doesn't want to ...” hiccup “... kiss me?”
“Then he'll tell you to stop and you're right where you are, right now. No harm, no foul.”
“That might actually work,” Tori sat up straight on her bar stool.
“Duh! Who is this Tori, and why is she so shy? Stop bitching, and go get your man!” Tim ordered her.
“Yeah! Yeah, I will! You're the best,” she made kissy faces at him as she slid off her chair and made her way to the downstairs door.
“Wait, that's not the exit, sweetie, that's -” Tim tried to warn her, but she'd already slid her key card in the slot and the door popped open. She waved her hand over her shoulder as she started skipping down the stairs.
She hadn't gotten drunk there. No, she'd started the night at home. Crying in her room because the boy she'd had a crush on forever liked someone else. That had led to drinking the cooking wine, which had led to a trip to the liquor store, which had led to a really long, sad conversation with a stranger on a park bench. They'd polished off the pint she'd bought, so she'd decided to make her way to her favorite dive bar. Along the way, though, she'd gotten distracted and had wound up at The Garden, complaining to Tim the bartender.
“Just gonna kiss him,” she repeated to herself as she stumbled across the main floor. “Just grab him and ... grab him and kiss him.”
The club was busier than usual – she'd forgotten they'd started a trial-period-enrollment plan. Her idea. Membership in a sex club wasn't something a person just dove into; people tended to be equal parts curious and wary. Without committing to the hefty membership fee, now interested people could pay a smaller amount to test drive the club for one week.
Couples were making out on the dance floor, and most of the booths were full of couples doing a lot more than making out. Tori had long since gotten used to the spectacle and she barely noticed as she finally made it to the long, narrow hallway just off the end of the bar.
Doors lined the walls on either side of her. Most were closed, with various sounds emitting from the rooms within. Moans. Yelps. Giggles. Two or three doors were open, though, the rooms available to be rented for the evening. She knew that within a couple hours, all the rooms would be occupied. On a weekend, none of them ever stayed empty.
She swept past them all, impressed with herself for only falling into the wall once. She held out one arm after that, bracing herself while she walked. It was hard enough to do while sober – the only lighting came from red bulbs. Doing it drunk, she felt like she was in a Stanley Kubrick film.
“Hey!” she yelled as she turned a sharp corner and walked up to the very last door. She started banging on it. “I need to talk to you, it's important!”
No one answered and she glanced at her watch. It wasn't that that late. Weekends were hit or miss with Liam – either he was off having fun on his own, or he was at work until the wee hours of the morning. But he'd told her just that afternoon that he would be in his office all night.
“Please, I'll do whatever you want. I'll go away and stay away until you tell me I can come back. I'll double your salary. Triple it. Think about it, at least. Okay? I'm not considering this your notice. Go home and really think about it. Then call me. Call me here, even. I'll be at my desk all night.”
His words, and as big of a douchebag as Liam Edenhoff was, she liked to think he wouldn't lie to her. Not to Tori, his basically-best-friend.
“I know you're in there! Open the door!” she shouted, banging even harder.
“Jesus fucking christ, woman, it's open!”
She was a little surprised at the annoyance in his voice, but she didn't let it stop her. She was on a roll. Her adrenaline was pumping, her confidence was kicked into high gear, and her liquid courage was in full effect. She took a deep breath and threw open the door.
His office was dark and she blinked her eyes a couple times, trying to make out where he was, exactly. Then she realized light was filtering out from under his en suite's door. He was in the bathroom, which explained why he hadn't answered her knocks. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, then almost fell with the movement. Once she'd righted herself, she cautiously made her way across the room, having to feel her way along in the darkness.
“I have something important I need to say!” she yelled through the bathroom door.
“Can it wait till I'm done taking a piss?” he asked. She crinkled her nose.
“No! Get out here, now!”
She gasped. Was he serious? Just a couple hours ago, she'd stormed into the very same office and had quit. Or at least she'd tried to, and that's when he'd started begging her not to go. Begging her not to quit and asking her to just talk to him. Promising her he'd be there whenever she did want to talk. And now he was telling her to fuck off?
Oh, hell no.
“No!” she yelled, slamming her palm against the door. “You fuck off!”
“I was here first!”
“You're an asshole!” she shouted. “You're a fucking liar. It's embarrassing, everyone talks about it, about what a big fucking lying asshole you are.”
She heard a click, then the door was swinging out in front of her, forcing her to step back. He'd turned off the bathroom light before opening the door and he looked ominous in the hint-o-red-lighting which was filtering in from the hall.
He loomed over her – he was easily six-foot-four, so even when she was in her boots, he was still taller than her. She loved that about him. Loved his smooth, tan skin, and his broad shoulders. His long legs and his lazy, sexy smile. His warm, chocolate eyes that made every female in his presence just melt. And of course, his thick brown hair which was always begging her to run her fingers through it.
“I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. Could you repeat that?” he asked in a low voice, startling her out of her oogling him. She narrowed her eyes and took a couple more steps back, putting some distance between them.
“You heard me,” she told him. “Don't you ever get tired, being so fake all the time?”
“Fake?” he asked, tilting his head to the side like he hadn't heard her right. He started walking towards her again, so she moved backwards, matching him step for step.
“Yeah, you know, a phony. Always pretending to be someone you're not,” she spelled it out as they both came to a stop in the doorway.
“Why would someone like you even know who I really am?” he snapped, his brown eyes shooting daggers at her.
That cut deep. Her eyes instantly filled with tears and she didn't even think about what she was doing – she slapped him across the face.
“Fuck you,” she hissed. “Someone like me? Just someone who's done nothing but be a good friend to you and kind to you and care about you and do whatever you fucking asked! My mistake, though, right? God, I'm such an idiot.”
She would not cry in front of this man. She'd wasted enough tears on him. She didn't wait to hear a response, she just shoved him out of her way and stomped back down the hallway. She didn't get very far, though, before he was pulling her to a stop.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he was saying in a soft voice.
“No! Get fucked, Eden,” she said his nickname like it was a curse.
“Look, I'm sorry. I think we both made a mistake,” he said, gripping onto her upper arms while she struggled against him.
“No, I made the mistake. Mistook you for a human fucking being. I'm so fucking stupid,” she swore, planting her hands flat on his chest and trying to push him.
“Hey, stop it. Stop saying that. This is all my fault. Don't feel bad, please. I'm sorry, I just fuck things up,” he sighed.
That made her pause. Liam was good at sounding apologetic and contrite, but he rarely ever sounded upset or depressed. Now she heard both those things in his voice. She stared up at him for a second, her vision blurred by her tears.
This is it. This is that moment. Just like Tim said. Grab him and kiss him.
It didn't go quite how she pictured it in her head. He was too tall and she was too ungainly on her feet. He was still gripping her arms, limiting her range of motion. She wound up on her toes, practically falling into him. Her movements caught him off guard and they stumbled backwards. Just as he hit a door to one of the rental rooms, her mouth landed on his, and for once, she felt like all was right in the world.
Tori had pictured kissing Liam lots of times. Pictured doing all kinds of things to him lots of times. Fantasy rarely ever lived up to reality, but this moment was better than anything she'd dreamed up.
His arms were around her in a second, squeezing the air out of her and pulling her as close as possible. She gasped into his mouth and he seized the opportunity, sliding his tongue between her lips. She moaned and raked her fingernails down his chest, then started pulling his shirt away from his body.
“Skin,” she gasped when he moved and shifted, turning them so she was the one pressed up against the door. “We need a lot more skin.”
His hands started doing something odd behind her back, but before she could ask what was going on, the door behind her fell open. She shrieked as they tumbled into the room, landing hard against a dresser.
“More skin,” he agreed, pulling his shirt up and over his head before tossing it across the room.
Her mouth went dry at the sight before her. They were in a shadowy room with only a sliver of red light coming inside, but she could still see his smooth chest. Tone muscles covering his ribs and sides, all leading to that wonderful v-shape which disappeared into his pants. She wanted to explore that shape, preferably with her tongue, but something caught her eye.
“I didn't know you had this,” she breathed, brushing her fingers down his right side. He had a tattoo there, a whole lot of script running from just under his armpit almost clear down to his hip. She'd never seen him with his shirt off, so of course she hadn't known about it. She was just surprised Katya had never mentioned it.
“I'm willing to bet there's a lot of things about me you don't know,” he chuckled.
“That sounds like a challenge,” she breathed, hooking her fingers around his belt and yanking him close.
“Yeah. Shit, Tori, we have to – fuck,” he hissed sharply when she leaned in and bit down on his chest. Then he moaned when she traced her tongue clear up to his clavicle.
“You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that,” she whispered.
Things quickly shifted into overdrive. He yanked her away from the dresser and forced her to turn around. Her shirt was roughly jerked over her head, the tell tale sound of ripping happening before it sailed across the room.
“Hey, I have to wear that home, you -” she started to complain, then gasped when his hand went around her throat. He gripped her high up on her neck, his thumb pressing down hard right beneath her jaw, forcing her to look up.
“You talk too fucking much,” he growled in her ear. A shiver ran down her spine.
“That's hilarious, coming from you,” she chuckled. He squeezed tight for a second, startling her, then moved his hand higher. His thumb pressed down hard on her bottom lip for a second, then forced its way inside her mouth. She moaned before sucking on the digit.
“God, I knew you'd be hot,” he was sighing from behind her. She moaned again when she felt his free hand on her ass. “But you were always off limits. Killed me. Always flashing those tits, this ass. So fucking hot.”
Wow. She'd had no idea. Of course, she'd assumed Liam found her attractive – they flirted, she was good looking, he was good looking. But hearing him talk that way, she was pretty sure her panties had actually just melted off her body.
No, you just never bothered putting any on this morning.
A fact he discovered seconds later, when he slid his hand around to her front and dipped it inside the front of her shorts. They both moaned when he felt nothing between her and his fingers. She shuddered and arched her back, forcing her ass into his crotch.
“Please,” she gasped when he finally pulled his hand away from her neck. “God, please, I need this so bad.”
“How bad?” he asked, two fingers sliding around in her heat while his other hand moved under her bra.
“So fucking bad,” she groaned, reaching behind her and running her fingers through his thick hair.
“You're fucking bad,” he hissed in her ear, slipping one finger inside of her. “Came down here to fight, but wound up getting fucked instead.”
“Thank god,” she started to laugh, but it ended on a gasp as a tremor ripped through her body. He was pinching her nipple, twisting it lightly between his fingertips.
“I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't even be able to walk when I'm done,” he threatened her.
Holy shit. She'd heard all sorts of stories about Liam, from lots of people. Some very detailed ones from Katya, but Tori had never imagined him to be so aggressive. So rough. So dirty. She loved it.
“Fuck, I'm gonna come,” she gasped.
“Oh no, no, no, no,” he whispered, and she almost cried when he took his hand away.
“What are you doing!?”
“I have got to see this happen,” he said as he turned her again, shoving her up so she was sitting on the dresser.
Tori started undoing her belt buckle, her fingers shaking so bad she could barely get it apart. This was happening. This was really happening. She glanced up, not wanting to miss one second with him. He was looking down at himself, fighting with his own belt.
She frowned and stopped moving. Something wasn't right. All that adrenaline had cleared out her brain a little. She glanced around the room, then stared back at him. Looked down at his tattoo. Then back at his face.
“Hey,” she said, reaching out and pressing her hand to his chest.
“What?” he asked, finally looking straight at her. She gasped.
“Oh my god.”
It was like simultaneous light bulbs went off over both their heads.
“Oh shit,” he groaned.
“Landon!?” she shrieked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“As in not Liam,” he sighed, rubbing his hand down his face.
“Oh my god. Oh my god,” she felt like she was hyperventilating.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Liam's twin brother, Landon Edenhoff, snapped, stepping up close to her. “Calm down. It's not the end of the world.”
“It feels like it!” she yelled. “This is humiliating! Jesus, I almost fucked the wrong brother!”
“Well, really, that depends on how you look at it.”
“Afterwards, you'd definitely know you'd fucked the right brother,” he said.
“Are you for real right now? Are you hitting on me, right now?” she shouted, gesturing between them with her elbow. Both of them were shirtless and Landon's pants were two seconds away from falling to the floor.
“This actually kinda seems like the best time to hit on you,” he pointed out.
“I'm gonna be sick.”
“You were feeling pretty good a moment ago.”
“You were ... no, I ... that was different!” she insisted. She was glad it was dark in the room so he couldn't see her blush.
'Pretty good' is an understatement – he's selling himself short.
“How so? Because you thought I had a shorter name?”
“Because I thought you were someone else.”
“Yeah, someone you were mad at. Someone you were just trying to anger bang, which trust me, you would've regretted it in the morning,” he told her. “But with me, it's the best of both worlds. You get a good fuck, get to release some tension, and there's no morning-after-awkwardness.”
“Well, gee, when you put it like that,” she said snidely. “Where the fuck is my shirt?”
She went to scoot off the dresser, but he stepped in between her legs, stopping her from moving. She glared up at him and when he gently grabbed her wrists, trying to pry her hands away from her breasts, she tensed up.
“We were having a good time,” he said in a soft voice. “Why ruin that?”
“Because I don't like you,” she told him.
“So? You were ready to fuck a man who doesn't like you – what's the difference?” he replied.
“How do you know he doesn't -”
“He's gone for that other chick,” Landon said “He's with her right now.”
So much for waiting for her. For being there for her. The tension went out of her body and he pulled her arms away from her chest, pinning her hands to the dresser.
“This is so depressing,” she moaned. “I'm just like this ... sad person.”
“Why? You're better than him,” Landon told her. “And you know it.”
“If I'm better than him, then I'm way too good for you.”
“Yeah, which is even better. Fuck me, work out all your anger on me, and then in the morning, poof, I'm gone. You don't have to deal with my awful ass,” he suggested.
“That is the stupidest idea ever. You just want to get laid.”
“No shit, honey,” he snorted, and he moved one of her hands to the bulge in his pants. “You started this, and I'm just really hoping you'll finish it. Take pity on the women of San Francisco, don't let me out amongst them when I'm like this.”
It was such a guy thing to do. Under normal circumstances, she would've grabbed him by his engorged testicles and told him to fuck off.
But that night was anything but normal. She was depressed. She was upset. She was a little drunk and a lot angry, and god, she was so fucking horny.
“If you say one word of this to anyone, I swear I'll -”
His tongue was down her throat before she could finish speaking. She squealed at his forcefulness, then gasped when he shoved her hand down the front of his pants. Turned out Landon's intellect wasn't the only thing big about him.
“You think I'm some sort of gossip? Who the fuck am I going to tell this to? My hair dresser?” he snapped when he finally pulled away.
“I don't know, uh, maybe your twin brother? Who you fucking live with?”
His hand went to the back of her head and suddenly he was jerking back, pulling hard on her hair.
“I probably talk to you more than I talk to him. Besides, who said this was going to be anything worth talking about, anyway? Thus far, I'm not exactly impressed,” he said. She glared up at him.
“Really? Because your dick says otherwise.”
“My dick is easy to impress. Me, not so much.”
“You're an asshole.”
He yanked back again, causing her to cry out. In response, she squeezed tightly at the base of his cock, forcing a long, low groan out of him.
“Keep that up,” he panted. “And there really won't be anything to talk about.”
“Oh no, uh uh. I am not going through all this for nothing,” she hissed, yanking her hand out of his pants.
They pulled and scratched and yanked at their remaining clothing. Tori hopped off the dresser so she could get rid of her shorts, and barely a second later, Landon was manhandling her again. Grabbing her arm and yanking her close, gripping her by the jaw and tilting her head up so he could kiss her at just the right angle.
She'd never slept with a man like that before, with someone so forceful. If anything, she was usually the sexual aggressor in her relationships. Men were intimated by her. Not Landon, though. He seemed to know exactly how he wanted to handle her.
Or how I want to be handled ...
“On your knees,” he suddenly said.
“What? I'm not -”
The hand was back in her hair, pulling down this time. She went with it, slowly dropping to her knees. Once she was there, he started walking backwards, forcing her to almost crawl after him. It should have been demeaning, but it wasn't. By the time he sat down in an easy chair, she was so turned on, she would've done anything he asked.
In fact, he didn't even need to ask. He'd just wrapped his hand around his dick when she leaned forward, swiping her tongue across his sensitive head. He moaned and the hand in her hair went loose, letting her free.
She immediately leaned forward, taking his erection in her mouth. They both moaned, and she replaced his hand with her own. As she worked her lips up and down his shaft, her hand covered any remaining distance.
“Goddamn, you're good at that,” he sighed. She pulled away and glanced up at him through her lashes.
“Thanks, I learned from your mom.”
After that, it was less like a blow job, and more like Landon was fucking her throat. He had both hands in her hair, controlling her speed and tempo. She kept up as best she could, almost gagging one time when he forced her to deep throat. When he finally let her up for air, she fell back onto her ass.
“Your mouth deserved that,” he was panting again. She nodded as she wiped at her chin.
“It did,” she agreed, staring up at him.
“And what about your pussy? What does it deserve?” he asked. She licked her lips.
“Anything you're willing to give it.”
She was forced across the room and shoved down onto the bed. He planted one hand in the middle of her chest, keeping her flat while he used his free hand to play with her. She groaned as three fingers were shoved inside her.
“So fucking wet,” he grunted as he moved so he was kneeling between her legs. “You're a mess, dirty girl. I don't know if you deserve this dick.”
“Maybe not,” she gasped. “But I want it.”
“I think you can feel how bad,” she laughed. His hand moved off her chest and clamped down over her mouth.
“I didn't ask you to make a fucking joke,” he growled. “I asked you to fucking beg for my cock.”
And oh boy, was she ever ready to. The more aggressive he got, the more she wanted it. She was ready to start singing a hymn to his dick, anything that would make him fuck her, but it turned out it wasn't necessary. With his hand still pressed down over her lips, he slammed his entire erection inside of her.
She was glad for his hand at that moment, it muffled her scream. He didn't give her any time to adjust, just pulled almost all the way out before pounding in again, as hard as he could, earning him another scream.
“Still feel like you deserve this?” he leaned down to hiss in her ear while he removed his hand from her mouth.
“Please,” it was the only word she could think of. “Please.”
Landon had promised her an anger bang, and he made good on his word, except he seemed to be the angry one. He stood up on his knees and held onto her hips, lifting them high as he pumped in and out of her.
“You ready to beg now?” he asked.
“God, yes, please,” she moaned. “Whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want, just don't stop.”
“Touch yourself,” he commanded, and she complied.
“Don't you even think of coming,” he warned her. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut tight.
“I can't ... can't stop ... fuck, Landon, I am, I'm gonna come,” she said.
He let go of her hips, letting her fall flat on the mattress. Then he grabbed both of her wrists and stretched her arms out above her head, pinning them to the mattress.
“This is too good to end so soon,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the lips.
“Please, Landon, please,” she begged without even being asked to. “I need this.”
“I know. Roll over.”
He helped her shift onto her stomach. Then he shocked her by massaging her for a second. His fingers pressed down hard into her shoulder blades, making her moan. Then they rubbed all the way down to her ass, moving all over her and inside her. He traced a finger from the base of her spine to the front of her pussy and back again, setting her entire body on fire. When she was ready to start crying out of frustration, she felt his hands on her hips. He pulled and forced them high up into the air. But when she started to prop herself up on her hands, he stopped her, keeping her top half flat on the mattress.
“How badly do you want to come?” he asked, his voice barely above a breath as he leaned over her back. His magical hands were back on her shoulders, rubbing and soothing her.
“So fucking bad,” she moaned, her teeth even starting to chatter.
“Bad enough to do whatever I say?”
“What if I said I wanted to fuck you again?”
“What if I said I want to come all over you face?”
“What if I said you're a dirty fucking whore who's gonna let me fuck her whenever I want?”
“Yes, yes, any of it. All of it. Just please fuck me,” she begged. He moved away from her back, but his hands stayed on her shoulders.
“You almost sound sweet when you beg,” he sighed.
She could feel his dick between her legs, braced herself for the same epic pounding as last time. But he switched it up, first only teasing her with his head. Then another inch. Then maybe two more. Her entire body was shaking by the time he was fully sheathed inside her.
“Please, please, please, please,” she was whispering over and over again, but he didn't seem to notice. He was smoothing her hair away from her shoulders.
“You look so pretty like this,” he sighed. “Next time, I'm fucking you in the ass.”
“You can fuck me in the ass this time,” she told him. “Just let me -”
He started pounding into her so hard, the entire bed frame began to shimmy and shake. The ornate frame was banging against the wall, sending a picture falling to the ground. Tori groaned as she felt his fingers digging into her waist. He squeezed hard, causing her to cry out and more than likely leaving bruises.
“Is this what you wanted?” he shouted from behind her. She managed to nod.
“Yes, thank you, thank you, holy fuck, yes.”
“Just wanted to get fucked. Didn't even matter by who. Dirty fucking girl.”
“Oh my god.”
“You fucking love it. You gonna come for me now?”
“So close. Fuck, I'm so close,” she assured him.
“Why am I doing all the work?” he suddenly snapped, and lifted one hand from her waist so he could grab her wrist. He forced her hand underneath her body, shoved it between her legs. His fingers worked alongside her, strumming out a rhythm that was sure to stop her heart.
“Landon ... holy shit ... I can't ...” she was starting to hyperventilate. There was too much stimulation, from too many angles. He was all over her, all around her. Inside her, on top of her, touching her, holding her. She was going to burst.
“Oh, I think you fucking can,” he growled, then he dragged his other hand down her back, digging his short nails into her skin.
She screamed when she came, her pussy turning into an explosion. She bucked against him and shook, her entire body seizing up for a moment, then almost convulsing. He cursed and swore and continued riding her hard, until her orgasm pushed him over the edge. While she was still twitching and squirming and gasping, she felt him pull out of her. As she lowered her hips to the mattress, she glanced over her shoulder. He was stroking his cock, and while she watched, he hit orgasm. He fell forward with one hand on her back and his other hand kept stroking, all while he came all over her ass.
“Holy fuck,” she couldn't catch her breath, there were too many blankets in her face. “Holy shit. Holy fuck.”
“Goddamn,” he chuckled, gripping her hips. “If I had known you were that good of a fuck, I would've put the moves on you months ago, fuck what Liam said.”
“Liam ... said not to fuck me?” she panted. She felt his fingers on her back, tracing a path down her spine.
“Mmm hmmm,” he replied. “Said you were off limits. Said to stay away or he'd break my neck.”
There was a tiny flutter of hope in her chest. Maybe he'd warned his brother away because he cared. Because he wanted her for himself. Because he ...
“Don't read into it,” Landon read her mind. “He just likes to control me, and women make good pawns.”
And the hope went away.
“I'm so stupid.”
“Kind of. I mean, you like Liam. That says a lot right there.”
Landon had warned her that trying to screw Liam would be a next-morning regret – more than likely true. Fucking Landon, however, was feeling more like an instantaneous regret. Her body was completely relaxed, just a pile of orgasmic goo, but her brain was starting to fire up again. The gravity of what she'd just done was coming into focus.
Oh my god. I just fucked Landon Edenhoff. That means I can never have anything with Liam, ever.
“You're not one of those chicks who likes to cuddle, are you?”
She hadn't even realized he'd gotten off the bed. When she looked to her left, he was on the other side of the room, already halfway dressed. She curled her arms in at her sides, suddenly feeling very exposed.
“No,” she whispered, then she cleared her throat. “I'm not a cuddling chick.”
“Good,” he grunted, slipping his shirt on before glancing in a mirror. He straightened out his hair, then walked back over to her. “You were fan-fucking-tastic. I mean, holy shit, Tor. I'd always imagined it would be hot, but goddamn, that was just spectacular.”
Before she could make any of her own comments, he was leaning down and kissing her roughly. Then he slapped her sharply on the side of her ass before walking out of the room. She just stared after him while he shut the door behind him.
Okay. That just happened. Just another mistake in the long line of mistakes you're constantly making. Now you're going to get up, clean yourself off, walk out of this godforsaken place, and go home. Just get out of here and go home, and then you can cry as much as you want to.