Bent not Broken (117 page)

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Authors: Lisa de Jong

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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“Fun. I see a fun Jess,” he answers quietly. I don’t respond to him. I used to be fun. I used to be carefree and happy and not so bitter and sad.

“Yeah, maybe,” I admit.

“So let’s have fun...well, I’m going to have fun,” he says, jumping up. “I’ll be right back.”

Shit. I can only imagine what he’s up to. A case of nerves hits me, and my stomach does a small flip, and I’m not sure if it’s the nerves or the alcohol that is causing this reaction. Landon disappears into the dark where he had just come from. The utter presence of him makes me entirely too nervous. He’s much older than I am, but more than that, he’s intimidating in a sexy kind of way. He has a take-charge personality and doesn’t mince words or actions. He demands my attention when we’re together; he doesn’t ask me to do things with him, he demands, or rather, insists.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I murmur to myself.

“What’s that, baby girl?” he says, reappearing and holding a bottle in one hand and a small shot glass in the other.

“Uh, what’s that?” I hiss at him.

“Tequila.”

“You are a cop. You cannot give me alcohol. Wouldn’t that be contributing to the delinquency of a minor?” I razz him.

“Yeah, yeah. Looks like you’ve already contributed to your own delinquency.” He kicks the empty red plastic cup out of the way as he sits down next to me. “Plus, this is for me.” He raises and shakes his eyebrows at me. “Oh, and by the way, you’re not leaving here tonight.” His lips twist into an evil smile.

“I’m not staying here,” I fire back at him.

“Yes, you are. You’re staying with Lindsay. It’s not open for discussion. You’ve been drinking, Linds has been drinking, everyone at this damn house has been drinking, and I’m about to start as well. You are not leaving here tonight.
Comprende
?” His tone is firm with me. I had forgotten all about Lindsay.
Fuck
.

“By the way, remind me to talk to Lindsay about having parties at my house without talking to me first, will ya?” Oh shit. Lindsay never told him about the party? No wonder he was in his room. He was probably pissed off.

When he sticks his feet in the water next to mine, the bottle of cheap tequila and a shot glass situated between us, my mind wanders back to the day I rode on the back of his motorcycle. My arms around his taut stomach, the smell of his masculine body wash and testosterone all mixed together.

“Couldn’t have bought better tequila?” I grumble, looking straight ahead over the pool. That elicits a deep belly laugh from him.

“So you have experience with tequila?” Landon asks coyly.

“Maybe a little,” I snicker. “Remember who raised me. Mexicans do not drink shitty tequila,” I announce.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m leaning back with my arms extended out behind me, propping me up, and my legs still dangling in the pool water.

Pushing myself up, I reach for the tequila bottle and twist the gold cap off. Lifting the large bottle up, I pour a shot for me. He raises his eyebrows and I can tell he’s wondering what in the hell I’m doing. Grabbing the shot glass, I raise it in the air between us. “
Salud,
” I say, and he never takes his eyes off of me.

I toss the fiery liquid to the back of my throat. I’ve learned that getting it down in one swallow with as little of it touching your tongue is the way to shoot tequila. Shaking my head from side to side in disgust, I let out a small grunt while my body shudders. A small chuckle leaves his lips as he reaches out to rub my arm, which has broken out in goose bumps from a combination of nerves and shitty tequila.

Setting the shot glass down between us, I try to focus on keeping the tequila down in my belly. I continue to slowly kick my legs in the water, and I can feel his eyes trained on me, along with the alcohol burning in my stomach. Hearing him shift, I try to see what he’s doing out of the corner of my eye. He’s pouring himself a shot, and he raises the glass and salutes me in return. Tossing back the shot, he immediately pours himself another one and tosses the second one back.

I almost gag at the sight of him taking two shots of that shitty tequila, as I can still taste it on the back of my tongue. I don’t think I could do another shot of tequila without losing it all over this pool deck.

“Where are your keys?” Landon whispers.

“Seriously? I’m not going to drink and drive. I’ll stay with Lindsay, all right. Just relax.” I realize how bitchy that just came out.

He obviously doesn’t care about my little outburst as a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he nods at me in understanding. Silence fills the air, except for the small laps of water that hit the side of the pool from me fluttering my feet. Landon lies down on the pool deck. With his hands behind his head, he looks up at the sky, feet still hanging in the water.

I’m starting to feel a little fuzzy from the three drinks earlier and the shot of tequila, and I have to use the restroom. Pulling my feet out of the water, and pushing myself to stand up, I search for my flip-flops in the dark.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“I’m not leaving if that’s what you’re asking. I have to brave the crowd in there to find the restroom,” I say, spotting my flip-flops. Walking over to them, I bend down and line them up so I can slide my wet feet into them. As I right myself, I wobble and step back, catching myself.

“Not so fast, baby girl,” he says, jumping to his feet. Moving quickly across the patio, he closes the distance, and instantly wraps his arms around my waist from behind, steadying me. Leaning forward, he rests his chin on my shoulder. I can feel his warm breath on my neck. My pulse quickens, and I take a deep breath, smelling the light scent of his body wash and tequila. Turning his head, I can feel how close his lips are to my ear, and it sends shivers down my body.

He tenses slightly when he feels my shiver and slowly unwraps his arms from my waist. Still standing behind me, he runs his hands down both of my arms, sending another quivering wave through me. There is something in his touch that triggers a response in me. Slowly, his hands reach mine, and he moves around to the front of me. Taking my hand in his, he tugs me forward slightly.

“Follow me,” he whispers as he guides me through the dark, down a paved walkway to double French doors. Turning the handle, he pushes one of the doors, and I feel a rush of cool air escape from the room and brush across my face. Stepping inside, he pulls me closer and guides me through the room. The room is dark, but I can make out large objects: a bed, a dresser, nightstands, and an oversized chair.

I can hear him open another door as he runs his hand up and down the wall. He flips a switch and light appears, filling the small room that I see is a bathroom.

“There you go. I’ll wait right here for you.”

I step inside the bathroom, turning to close the door behind me, but I can’t because he’s still standing in the doorway, staring at me. When I tilt my head at him, he finally backs up slightly.

“Do you need water?”

“I’m okay; just a little wobbly.” I giggle, shutting the door and flipping the lock on the handle.

“Be careful,” I hear him say through the door.

Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile. “Overprotective much?” I say back through the door.

“You’re killing me, woman,” he mutters back at me. I can’t help but giggle.

After I’m done relieving myself, I adjust my almost too short denim skirt and straighten my black lace-trimmed tank top. Washing my hands, I check myself out in the mirror. I grab a tissue from the box on the counter and wipe under my eyes where it looks like my eyeliner is bleeding. The damn humidity does not help my make-up situation.

My cheeks are pink and flushed, probably from drinking, or it could be from the way my body reacts when Landon touches me. Swallowing hard, I turn to the door and open it slowly. Landon is sitting on the side of his bed, waiting for me, and a small lamp on his bedside table is on.

“Feel better?” he asks, handing me a cold bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap, I nod my head yes at him and take a small sip of water. Landon stands up and moves closer to me, watching me drink the water. We maintain eye contact as I continue to drink. A small smile crosses his face, and before I even realize what is happening, large arms wrap around me and push me up against the wall.

The bottle of water falls from my hands and splashes both of us on its way to the floor. Landon kicks the bottle of water out of the way, and presses himself closer to me. Since he’s taller than I am, he lowers his head slightly and without warning, presses his warm lips to mine. Not moving, he leaves his lips pressed against mine, waiting for my reaction.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, but my body reacts differently. My body relaxes slightly under his grip, and a low moan escapes the back of my throat. My lips separate slightly, inviting him in, and he accepts the invitation, devouring my mouth.

I taste the slightest hints of cinnamon and tequila; his lips are soft and intoxicating. Gently nipping my bottom lip, he runs his tongue over my top lip, and my breath hitches. My legs are wobbly, and if he wasn’t holding me against the wall, I know my legs would fail me.

His arm is snaked around my body, resting along my lower back. Pulling me forward slightly, he presses me against the front of him. My head falls back against the wall, and he immediately moves in to assault my neck. As he gently kisses and sucks, my body tingles and trembles from his touch.

He begins walking backwards and pulls me with him at the same time, while never taking his mouth off of my neck. Twisting us around, I can feel the edge of the tall bed just behind my thighs as he pushes us down onto the soft mattress.

For a split second, thoughts of Gabe fill my mind as I feel Landon’s firm body on top of mine. I’ve never slept with anyone other than Gabe, and my body has never reacted this way to anyone other than him. It was always supposed to be Gabe. Me and Gabe. No one else. Landon uses his hips to push me further up into the middle of the bed, and his mouth has moved from my neck to my chest. He pulls my leg up and wraps it around his waist, and naturally, my other leg follows.

Pulling my arms above my head, he uses his hand to hold them in place, lacing his fingers through the fingers on both of my hands. He shifts his hips and presses his erection into me. My denim skirt is above my waist, and the only things that separate us are my thin silk panties and his khaki cargo shorts.

My body is tingling, and I feel close to losing control. My hips are rocking slightly, and he gently squeezes my nipples through my tank top, causing me to gasp. My hips rock faster, and he continues to press his erection into me. My hands are still above my head as he presses kisses across my chest and back up to my lips.

“Landon,” I whisper.

“Shh…don’t talk. Just feel.”

“Oh God, please, Landon…”

“Shh…”

The only sounds in the room are the deep breaths and the light noises our bodies are making. Kissing me again, he presses his erection into me harder, and I realize how close to the edge of losing it I am. My breathing quickens, and I wrap my legs around him tighter, holding him firmly in place.

“Don’t come,” he whispers across my lips.

My legs aren’t doing a very good job of holding him in place because he thrusts again, and I’m on the cusp of losing it and giving in to the throbbing between my legs. A moan escapes me.

“Not yet. I will tell you when you can, understand?” he demands. My panties are soaked and my legs are shaking. “Open your eyes and look at me,” he instructs. It isn’t until he tells me to open my eyes that I realize I’ve kept them so tightly closed.

“Open your eyes now,” he mutters again against my lips, pressing firm kisses on me.

When I open them, our eyes meet, and we stay focused on each other. I’m trying to ignore the pulsing between my legs, the goose bumps across my skin, and the rapid beating of my heart. Without blinking, he presses himself up against me one more time, causing my body to shudder. My legs clench around him.

“Not yet. Do you understand me?”

“Please,” I beg.

“No. I will tell you when.”

“Oh, God,” I moan again as I begin to feel the tingles start spreading through my lower half.

My eyes roll back, but I shake my head yes in understanding. His hand pinches both of my nipples again, but slowly, he moves his hand downward. Lifting his hips away from my center, he offers me a temporary reprieve until his fingers push away my panties to one side. With a gasp, his fingers find that center of nerves that is about to explode.

“Please,” I beg some more. My legs are shaking, and I can’t stop moving my hips. If it didn’t feel so good, I would consider this torture.

Gently rubbing me, he reminds me again, “Do not come yet. I will tell you when.” The pad of his thumb is working my clit, rubbing it side to side with gentle presses, and I honestly can’t breathe anymore.

“So wet and so swollen,” he mutters, continuing to strum me with his thumb. Sliding back in one fluid motion, he settles himself on his knees between my legs. “Leave your hands above your head.” I obey. There is something in the way he orders me that I don’t question, I don’t refuse.

He pulls my panties down and off of my legs. I begin to panic. I can’t do this yet, not with him. My legs are shaking, but he finds that spot again and pinches and presses, bringing me back to the edge, and it feels so good.

Running his fingers down through my swollen lips, he continues rubbing me. “So wet.” A low growl escapes him. “I need to taste you.”

“Landon…” Before I can say no, his tongue is wreaking havoc on me. I gasp for breath, arching my back off the bed. I feel his tongue brush my clit, and I can’t hold it any longer. My legs are shaking and everything between my legs is pulsing.

“Please. I have to now,” I beg.

With one last swipe of his tongue, I begin my fall. Just as ecstasy takes over my body, I feel him slip two fingers in me, and this is where I’m not ready to go. My chest caves like it has a ton of bricks on it. I can’t breathe and my throat tightens.

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