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“And also in your hot pussy, fucking you until you can’t take any more.”

“Oh God!” I moan as the image sends me over the edge. My legs stiffen, my body throbbing as pleasure rolls over me. I fall back on the bed, my body trembling uncontrollably.

I sigh as my heart slows, my body still feeling the little aftershocks of my climax.

“I have to get back to my meeting,” Landon says, as if he hasn’t just given me an intense orgasm through the phone. “Let’s go out to dinner, tonight.”

I breathe slowly, my body still sluggish. “I’d like that.”

“Be ready at seven,” he says, “I’ll come pick you.”

I only have a few hours, so I quickly finish up my additions to the article and email them to Mark for feedback.

My few clothes have all been neatly unpacked in the dressing room closet. I select a deep-blue wrap-dress I brought with me, silently thanking the stars for my mom, who taught me to always pack evening wear.

By the time I emerge from my room at seven, I’m fully dressed, made up, with my hair styled in the low chignon that’s the only one I can manage without Laurie’s help. Landon is already waiting. He has changed out of the clothes he was wearing earlier and is now dressed in a dark blue evening jacket and anot

her one of his crisp, tailored shirts. His hair is slicked back, shining like burnished gold. He looks unbelievably hot. I just want to keep looking at him.

“You look amazing,” he says with a smile as he takes my hand, dropping a kiss on my right cheek.

If I look amazing, then there are no words to describe how he looks. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I reply, inhaling the intoxicating scent of his cologne, mixed with the yummy smell of his body wash and shampoo.

He grins. “I aim to please.”

“And you never miss.” I quip.

His eyes hold mine. “Not if I can help it.”

God! I want him again, even now, when we’re on our way out. I wish he would change his mind about going out for dinner.

Taking a deep breath to calm my heated body, I follow him to the elevator. Outside, it’s very cool and there’s a light fog over the city. Luckily, my dress came with a matching blue shawl. As we wait for the car, Landon takes it from me and wraps it around my shoulders, his fingers trailing along my arms and making me tremble.

On the ride to the restaurant, we’re both quiet. His mind seems far away as he looks straight ahead. I find myself thinking again how good looking he is. He has the kind of looks women dream about. Combined with his potent sexual magnetism, he’s the stuff fantasies are made of. Right now though, he looks almost unapproachable. This is not the first time I’ve seen him retreat behind that wall. Is he like this with the other women he’s dated? Very physical in one moment, then distant in the next?

Or is it just me?

It shouldn’t affect me. I shouldn’t mind if we have no relationship beyond sex. It’s what I want.

It’s what I want.

When the car stops, he reaches over and strokes a hand over mine, making me look up to see him smiling at me. I feel a pull in my stomach, equal parts desire, longing, and another ache I can’t even identify.

He leans across the seat and drops a soft kiss on my lips. When he pulls back, I follow him, wanting another. He obliges me, stroking his tongue along my lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. Hot need shoots through me and I moan.

He releases my lips with a sigh. “I can’t imagine why I thought I could make it through the evening without wanting to tear off your clothes,” he says, his voice low.

I turn a cautious glance at the driver, who’s looking straight ahead, a pair of earphones stuck in his ears. Sliding a hand up Landon’s thigh, I stop when I touch the erection already straining through his pants. Slowly, I run my hand along the hard ridge. “I’m not very hungry,” I say hopefully.

He catches hold of my hand, taking a deep breath. “I wish we could go back, but there’s someone expecting us.”

With that, he opens the door, almost immediately appearing at my side to help me out of the car. I’m still wondering who could be expecting us, while simultaneously trying to compose myself and get in control of the arousal raging through me.

The restaurant is on the ground floor of a building that’s on a hill close to the waterfront. Even from the street, views of the Golden-Gate Bridge and the sparkling lights reflecting off the water are simply breathtaking. We enter the restaurant, first going into a quiet reception, from where a fussy maître d’ ushers us upstairs to a dining area overlooking the main restaurant, with less obstructed views.

No sooner has the maître d shown us to a secluded table than a door at the rear opens and a stocky man with bright red hair and a broad smile bursts into the room. He approaches our table, and Landon gets up, an easy smile on his face as he clasps hands with the man before they exchange a bro-hug. The man faces me and grins. “You must be an angel,” he says, taking my hand with an earnest look in his deep green eyes.

Landon does a small head shake. “Rachel, this is Cameron McDaniel. Cameron, Rachel Foster.”


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