~Cami~
“I love the Esplanade,” I say happily as Landon takes my hand and we begin walking down the paved path that loops around the waterfront of the Willamette River, giving us amazing views of the city.
“It’s a good day for a walk,” he says, smiling down at me. “Not raining.”
“Nope.” I look up at the blue sky, then fish in my purse for my sunglasses. “But it’s a little chilly.”
“We’ll warm up the more we walk,” he says.
“You know, we’ll be walking just about a block away from Voodoo Donuts,” I remind him with a grin.
“We just had a big breakfast.”
“Oh, come on, there’s always room for donuts,” I reply with a scoff. “When was the last time you had a Voodoo?”
“Oh God, it’s been a few years,” he says, and guides me to the side so we avoid a cyclist.
“Well, I say we stop in.” I pull him down the sidewalk toward the famous donut shop. “And look! No line.”
“That doesn’t happen often, especially on a Saturday morning.”
“See? Good luck.” I wink and lead him inside. “Smells good.”
“How can I possibly be hungry for this right now?” He stares longingly at a maple with bacon. He looks at me like that too. Usually he has his hands on me when he has that look on his face, and holy shit, does it make me crazy.
It was all I could do to not rip his pants off in my kitchen this morning.
“I’ll take one,” he says to the guy behind the counter, pointing at the donut, then he turns to me. “What would you like?”
“I’ll take one without the bacon,” I say. “You don’t have to put it in a bag. It won’t last that long.”
When we’re outside, I pull my phone out and take a photo of Landon biting into his ridiculously big donut, laughing at how his nose squishes up as he bites.
“If you post that anywhere, it’ll ruin my political career,” he says, his face perfectly sober.
“I’m sure there are other photos in existence that would do that more than you eating a donut,” I reply, and bite into my own treat. “Dear God, these are good.”
I glance up to find him staring at me.
“What?”
He licks his lips, then leans in and whispers in my ear, “I want to make you make noises like that.”
“Oh.” I stop walking and stare up at him, his lips, his hot blue eyes.
Dear sweet Jesus, the man makes me hot. I’ve always been attracted to him, but this is different. It’s more.
He just grins and keeps walking, and I have to hurry to catch up to him.
“Come here. Let’s take a picture.” We turn our backs to the river and hold up our donuts, but my arms aren’t long enough to get a good shot. “You take it. Your arms are longer.”
“I’m not good at the selfie.”
“I’ll show you.” I instruct him on holding the phone, and we pose for a few photos. On the last one, he leans down and kisses my cheek as he takes the photo.
“Aw, that’s cute,” I say, looking through the pictures, eating my donut, and walking beside him. “You did just fine with the selfie.”
“I learn something new from you all the time,” he says with a laugh, and takes the last bite of his donut. “Ah, the Rose Garden.” He points at the stadium and smiles. “I’ve seen many a concert in that place.”
“They changed the name, you know. It’s the Moda Center now.”
“Hmm. It’ll always be the Rose Garden to me.” Since I’ve finished my donut, he takes my hand back in his and tucks them both in the pocket of his jacket. It’s very chilly today. I can see our breath as we walk, but the sun is nice on my face, and our brisk pace helps. “What was your first concert?”
“Britney Spears.” I grin and break out in a really bad rendition of “Hit Me Baby One More Time,” which Landon joins me in, making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
“Wasn’t that for Addie’s birthday?”
“Yep, we were fourteen,” I reply with a nod. “We had a blast. Britney puts on a good show. She’s quite the dancer. What about you?”
“Metallica,” he says. “It was fucking awesome.”
“So you’re a metalhead? I didn’t know that about you.”
“Not really, but I love Metallica,” he replies. “I saw Springsteen, the Cure, Garth Brooks, and Madonna in that stadium.”
“I remember when you went to see Madonna! I was so mad. I wanted to go.”
“You did?”
“Of course I did. But you took Natasha What’s-her-name.” I scowl. “Bimbo.”
“Natasha was a bimbo,” he agrees with a nod. “And my seventeen-year-old self was elated.”
“Ew.”
“Don’t worry, babe. You’re the only bimbo I’m interested in now.”
“I’m so relieved,” I reply, and push him playfully. Our walk goes by fast, and before long we’re back in the car and headed to my house. When we pull up, I’m surprised to see Brian’s car in my driveway and the man himself walking down my steps.
“Hey!” he says as we approach. He glances at Landon, down at our linked hands, then back at me, and smiles widely. “I was just going to leave.”
“I’m glad we caught you,” I reply, and squeeze Landon’s hand. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering if I can borrow your KitchenAid mixer?”
I frown. “Why?”
“Stephanie wants to bake cookies this afternoon, but I don’t have a mixer.”
I unlock the door and step inside, then turn and stare at my former husband. “Who’s Stephanie?”
“A girl.” He rocks back on his heels. “That I met.” Shoves his hands in his pockets. “You know, on my own. Without your help.”
“Oh my gosh! That’s so great!” I hug him quickly, then walk back to the kitchen, the guys in tow. “I want to know all about her. Do I know her?”
“I doubt it.”
“How did you meet her?”
“Does she give you the third degree like this?” Brian asks Landon, who just laughs and shakes his head. “I met her in the grocery store.”
I stare at the tall blond man I know so well, and then a slow smile spreads over my face. “What aisle?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Humor me. What aisle?”
“I met her by the ice cream.”
“Did she have wine in her basket?”
The guys look at each other in confusion, and then Brian says, “I don’t remember.”
“Think. Really hard.”
I lean on the counter, waiting, and watch Landon’s eyes travel down to my chest. I glance down, and sure enough. Cleavage, front and center.
I send him a sassy wink. You’re welcome, handsome.
“Honestly, Cam, I wasn’t looking in her basket,” Brian says, and then chuckles. “That sounds dirty.”
“Ew.” I shudder. “I don’t want to know about the dirty stuff. Of course you can borrow my mixer.” I open the pantry and fetch the appliance.
“You remodeled,” Brian says.
“I painted, Landon did everything else.” I grin and hand Brian the mixer. “Have fun.”
“That’s the plan.” He winks. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later. Good to see you, Landon.”
Landon nods, and he and I just look at each other as Brian leaves.
“You seem very excited for someone who just found out her ex is seeing someone.”
“Hell, yes, I am,” I reply, and wash my hands in the sink. “I’ve been trying to set him up for over a year.”
“Really.” He takes his coat off and hangs it on the back of a chair. “That’s . . . unusual.”
“I know. But it’s okay.” I turn to him. “Brian is a really great guy, and I want him to be with someone equally great.”
“So you’ve been trying to set him up.”
I nod. “I felt guilty.”
Landon takes my hand and leads me to the couch, sits, and snuggles me against him. “Why guilty?”
“Because I left him,” I reply softly. “The divorce was all me. He didn’t put up much of a fight, but he probably wouldn’t have asked for it. I left him alone, and that made me feel bad.”
“You were alone too,” he reminds me, and kisses my forehead.
“But that was my decision.” I drag my nails up and down his thigh. “But, I guess I didn’t have to set him up after all. The fact that he’s doing any kind of cooking or baking with her says a lot. He claims to be allergic to the oven.”
“I hope it works out for them,” he says. “Wanna watch movies and veg for the rest of the day?”
“Hell yes.”
THIS HAS BEEN, hands down, one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time. Exercise in the morning, and an afternoon on the couch, snuggled up, watching movies and eating junk food is exactly how I needed to spend my day off. I feel rejuvenated and happy.
We’re in the middle of an action movie that Landon picked. We took turns choosing the movies today, which seemed fair to me. Right now action movie stars from the eighties and nineties are all banded together to fight . . . something. I’m not sure what. But Landon is laughing and pointing, and generally having a good time, so I’m having a good time too.
I traded my jeans for cropped yoga pants long ago. Landon ran home to get some lounge clothes as well, so we’re as casual as can be, with a blanket over our laps, and Scoot is curled in a tiny ball beside Landon, snoring happily.
This just feels good. I’d forgotten how much I love to snuggle. To feel a solid, warm body next to me. I slip my hand under the blanket and drag my fingertips up and down Landon’s thigh, like I did earlier, but this time it’s on bare skin thanks to his running shorts. I like to touch him. His skin is smooth, but his muscles are just . . . yum.
I glance up at him, and realize that he’s staring down at me, his eyes hot, and the next thing I know, I’m on my back and Landon and his harder-than-should-be-legal body are covering me, his mouth is on mine, and his hand has traveled up my shirt.
“Jesus, you’re sweet,” he whispers against my lips. “Arch up.”
I comply and he unfastens my bra, giving him easier access to my breasts. He doesn’t take my shirt off, but his hands are doing amazing things to my nipples and his mouth is teasing mine, nipping, licking, then devouring.
I feel like I’m sliding straight into a high that I’ve never had before. My head starts to buzz, along with every nerve ending in my entire body. He eases between my legs and presses his pelvis to mine, grinding against my core, and moans as I push my hands in his hair and hold on tight.
“I want you,” he whispers as his hand glides down my belly to the waistband of my pants, but he stills and pulls his head back, staring down at me, panting.
“Why are you stopping?” Please, God, don’t you dare stop.
“Cami, I—”
He just doesn’t want me like this.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, and wiggle out from under him, not able to look him in the face. “I get it.”
“No. You don’t.” He grips my arm, but I don’t want to look him in the eyes and see the apology there. “Cami, look at me.”
“Landon, it’s okay.” Why do I keep saying it’s okay? Because I’m so embarrassed I don’t know what to say. Except, he started it.
“Cami, I want you.” My gaze whips up to his. “I want you so bad I’m aching with it. But I don’t want to rush things. We don’t have to hurry.”
“I don’t feel like we’re rushing,” I reply. “We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now. We spend a lot of time together. Every time you walk in a room, I want to rip your clothes off. Trust me, I’m more than ready.”
He takes a deep breath, stands, and just when I think he’s going to leave, he scoops me up and carries me—carries me—up the stairs and into my bedroom.
“You are so beautiful,” he says softly, his face close to mine as he sets me on my feet near the bed, then makes quick work of our clothes. “And I want to take my time exploring every gorgeous inch of you. We’ve waited this long, there’s no need to go fast.”
“That sounds nice,” I reply as my eyes rake over his long, lean body. The feel of his muscles over his clothes is nothing at all compared to what they look like naked. “I didn’t think people really looked like that.”
“Like what?” he asks with a grin.
I just point at him. “Like they’ve been airbrushed.”
“You’re good for my ego, baby.” His eyes narrow. “You really don’t wear panties.”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
I lift one shoulder. “Panty lines. I hate them. And thongs are just damn uncomfortable.”
He laughs. “That’s my Cami, always logical.”
I bite my lip and cup his perfectly sized, not-too-big, not-too-small dick in my palm. “I’d say that by the look and feel of this, the compliment is returned,” I reply, and look up into his blue eyes. “You’re rather hard, Landon.”
“I’m hard as a fucking rock, and it’s definitely your fault,” he replies, walking me backward to the bed. “Lie down.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I lie on my back and he covers me, just like he did on the couch. But this time, there’s plenty of naked skin for both of us to explore. Hands glide and lips nibble as we discover each other.
He kisses his way down my chest, paying attention to my breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingertips. My back arches off the bed. I can’t stay still as he bites my belly near my navel, then licks his way to the promise land.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
With one swipe of his tongue, I’m lost. A sheen of sweat breaks out over my skin, and I cry out, not giving even one shit about making noise. When most men would think they’ve done their part with one or two swipes of the tongue and move along, Landon proves yet again that he’s not most men. He settles in and continues to explore me with his mouth and fucking me with his tongue, then sweeping up to tease my clit and back down again.
I’m writhing, my legs shifting, hips circling. He’s making me absolutely fucking crazy. Someone shouts for more, and I’m pretty sure it’s my voice. His hands are traveling over my body, and then scoop under my ass and lift me, and I’m spread open to him like a feast.
And boy, does he feast.
Finally, when I’m nothing but a shaking, trembling hot mess, he licks and kisses up my torso, my shoulder and neck, and kisses me deeply. I can taste myself on him, and that only turns me on more. I can’t get enough of him.
I grab his bare ass and try to tug him to me, but he holds strong, making growls.
“In a minute,” he says.
“Want you,” I reply.
“Oh, baby, I want you too.” And then he takes himself in his hand and rubs the tip of his dick up and down my wetness, through my lips, and up over my clit. His eyes are on mine, watching what he does to me.
“Holy shit, that’s good.”
I close my eyes, but he leans in and kisses me, then says against my lips. “I want you to open your eyes for me, sweetheart. I want you to look at me when I push inside you.”
I look up at him, and slowly, so fucking slowly, he guides himself inside me. He pushes all the way in and stops, sweating, staring down at me with a mixture of awe and pleasure and everything I’ve ever wanted to see from him.
“Fuck me, you feel good,” he says, and lowers himself to his elbows so he can bury his hands in my hair and kiss me. I hitch my legs up over his hips and he sighs.
“So deep,” I whisper. “God, Landon.”
“Too much?”
“No.” I shake my head and grip his ass in my hand once again. “But I’d love for you to move.”
I clench around him, making his eyes roll. “God, babe.”
I kiss him. Sweetly at first, then more insistently, and his hips begin to move. The thrusts become harder, but they’re still shallow, and I can feel every single glorious inch of him.
Even my lips are tingling as I feel the orgasm start low in my belly.
“Fuck.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” he growls, and bites my neck, which only makes the tingling spread, and before I know it, I’m clenching down on him and crying out as my whole world explodes into a million bright pieces. I can’t see. I can’t hear. I can only feel him, in me, around me, and suddenly he groans and joins me, shaking and panting.
He collapses on top of me, his face buried in my neck, and we stay like this for long minutes while our hearts slow down and our bodies cool.
Landon just made love to me. And it was better than any fantasy I’ve ever had. I lie quietly and just let my hands roam over him, from his tight ass to the soft hair on the top of his head, loving him.
After he catches his breath, he kisses my neck and rolls to the side, taking me with him, so his weight is off of me. He brushes my hair behind my shoulder, drags his knuckles down my cheek and neck, down to my breast, and gently grazes over my nipple, keeping it erect.
“You’re amazing,” he says, holding my gaze.
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m suddenly a bit shy. I reach for the covers, but Landon takes my hand in his and kisses it.
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
He smiles softly. “Bashful?”
“A little,” I admit.
“After what we just did, there’s no reason to be shy,” he says softly. “Your body is beautiful, and I plan to spend the rest of the night exploring you.”
I feel my eyes widen and he chuckles.
“That’s right. But first, let’s nap.” He pulls me against him, tugs the blanket over us both, and in the dark, under the covers, his hand roams over my bare back, my side, my thighs.
There’s no way I’m going to sleep.