head to his place. Landon lives in the heart of Boston in an amazing warehouse loft with exposed brick and hardwood floors. I flop down on the leather sofa while Landon grabs some wood and gets the fireplace going.
My eyes are on his as he walks toward me and joins me on the couch. The sight of him releasing a swarm of sharp-winged butterflies in my stomach. With his arm slung over my shoulders, he tucks a lock of my long brunette hair behind my ear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, and the compliment makes me blush.
I run my hand along his clean-shaven jawline. The only light in the room coming from the flickering flames of the fire. My heartbeat kicks up when he moves in and kisses me. His lips are warm against mine, and I immediately soften against him. He shifts over me and lays me down on my back, my legs opening for him to settle himself between.
His kisses are soft and slow, deliberate with every brushing sweep of his tongue along mine. My mouth is marked by his taste, and I want to lose myself completely with him, but I’m unable to. The thought of letting myself go scares me, as it does every time I find myself in moments like this. I want him badly, but I know all too well how quickly a person can change their colors, and I’m scared I’m just setting myself up to get hurt again.
Landon begins moving his body over mine, and I instantly tighten my grip on his hips, attempting to halt him. He catches my signal and slows himself down. My face is hot when he drags his lips from mine, taking his sweet taste from my needy mouth. When I open my eyes, he’s looking down at me.
Slightly embarrassed, I whisper bashfully, “I’m sorry.”
“Is it me?”
His question catches me off guard. “What?”
“Every time I try to touch more of you, you push me away.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, his voice a rasp of a whisper. “I just want to know what it is that’s making you hesitate with me.”
I release a heavy sigh and push myself to sit up, but I don’t speak. I’m not quite sure how to express what I’m feeling.
“Can I admit something to you?” he asks, taking a little of the pressure from me. When I nod, he runs his hand through my hair and cups my cheek before saying, “I’m falling for you. I have been for a while now. I’ve been trying to rein it in because I can feel you’re holding something back. I just want to know what it is.”
“Landon . . .” I begin, but lose my words as his seep into my heart. His honesty pushes me to want to give mine in return, but I’m worried my words might hurt him, so I tell him that. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t,” he assures.
I close my eyes and drop my head for a moment before looking back at him and revealing, “You’re right. I’m scared.”
“Why?”
The fire crackles loudly through the silence in the room as I take my time to gather my thoughts enough to answer him without sounding like I’m stumbling nervously over my words.
“There’s only been one other guy before you,” I tell him when I feel my palms beginning to sweat, but he only holds my hands tighter. “He, umm . . .” I hesitate. “He . . .”
“You can tell me anything.”
My eyes fall from his, and I stare at our hands when I tell him, “He hit me.”
I hear him let go of a hard breath as his hands constrict on mine.
“It didn’t start out like that. Everything was perfect at first, but then . . . I don’t know, somewhere along the way he changed.” When I finally get the courage to look at Landon, I see the anger in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
“No,” he interjects. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at what that asshole did to you.”
“I would do things that would anger him and—”
“Baby.”
“He would yell at me and throw me around. He’d punch me and slap me—”
Landon takes my face and angles it up to him. “Is that what you’re afraid of? That I’d hit you?” He speaks with fervency, asserting, “I would never lay a hand on you. That guy was a sick fuck for thinking it was okay to touch you like that. But