rip off my pants, turn her around and shove myself inside her.
It's... oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
There are no... fuck... words.
Fucking perfect. Her clasping at me.
I can only fuck her slow it's so good. Too good. Any faster and I'd...
Landon. Concentrate.
But I fucking can't. She's too fucking hot. Too fucking good. Fuck. Fuck.
And the way she's groaning.
I pick her up, still inside her, and bend her over the desk.
"Still hate me?" I growl into the back of her neck.
As I pause, her pussy clasps at me franticly.
"I will if you stop," she hisses back.
That's all the go-ahead I need to start pounding her as hard and fast as I've got. In and fucking out. Just right. Just so good.
Her moans have become shrill whines, and now she's screaming. As she loses it on my dick and comes, I hold mine in. No fucking way am I letting myself come. Not yet.
I'm going to give her a night she won't soon forget. A night she'll ache to repeat.
I've been waiting to do this for too long.
I keep on pounding her, slower and deeper this time. Her whole body trembles with every insertion.
"Landon..." she groans. "Yes..."
"You sure?" I pause, enjoying how into this she is far too much. "Because if you really hate me..."
She twists around to glare at me, mouth parted with hunger. "I hate you. Now fuck me."
That's all the permission I need to fuck her senseless.
Although she's lying. Has to be. The way she's losing it with me, the places she's going with me as I fuck and fuck and fuck her - it's places reserved for something else.
When she screams out my name and comes for the third time, I let myself lose it too.
Fuck is she good. Fuck is this good.
And afterwards, on my cushy leather office couch, I hold her in my arms and nothing in the world feels better.
**
At some point in the morning, half-asleep, I notice she's still in my arms. Almost on autopilot, my mind starts running through the facts:
- Kyra's asleep in my arms.
- I actually like it.
- She's hot as hell.
- We passed out on the couch in my office.
- I have no idea how she's going to be when she wakes up.
- Does she still hate me?
- Breakfast?
I have the perfect one in mind: I'll make pancakes. That was always her favorite brunch food - and I even have frozen wild blueberries to top it off.
My stomach growls happily. Pancakes sound damn good right about now, but first I need... sleep. Yes.
Some nice... sleep...
**
I wake up cold. The Egyptian cotton sheets are around me and yet... My eyes snap open. My arms are empty.
She's gone. Left.
I check my phone, then the en suite bathroom, but there's nothing.
Fuck. She's gone without so much as a goodbye.
Chapter 8
Kyra
I'm making Madison some melted cheddar cheese on a cinnamon raisin bagel when his first call comes.
"Mommy, do you have a big case?" she asks, before I finally turn off my stupid phone.
"You bet," I say.
The two of us are at the park, me pushing her on the swings - "Wheee! Look at me, Mommy!" - when the second call comes.
By the time the third one comes, Madison is playing Beanie Baby war in her room, and I pick up.
"What?"
"Good afternoon to you too," Landon says.
"OK. I'm a bit busy right now."
"What about later tonight?"
"Yeah, I'll be free."
I can't let myself think - about last night, about him calling me up today. I just have to get off the phone. Get back to my daughter.
"Great - see you then," he says easily.
"Hold on, what?!?"
"I'll swing by," he says, as if my agreement is a given. "There's this thing I'm planning on booking for us..."
"Landon."
"What?"
"Last night was a mistake."
"That's one way of putting it."
Despite myself, I smile. God, the man can be a stubborn bull sometimes.
"Another way of putting it," he continues, just as confidently, "would be: awesome. Amazing."
"OK." I roll my eyes. "An awesome, amazing mistake."
He chuckles. "Can anything that's awesome and amazing really be a mistake, though?"
"Listen, Landon," I say. "I'm not going to sit here and argue semantics with you. You said that after the date you'd leave me alone - so are you going to keep your word or not?"
Madison lets out a laugh so delightedly loud that I can hear it through her closed door. I find myself smiling again. I've really never met a kid who enjoys playing alone as much as she does.
I drum my fingers on my wrist absently.