Page 19

NINETEEN

KENJI

Landry Davis was one of the most laid-back people I knew. Nothing rattled him, nothing riled him. He was the textbook definition of go-with-the-flow… usually.

Now, rage coiled around him like a living thing, crackling in the air between us. After watching him bury himself in distraction and deflection for the better part of a week, the shift was electric. Raw. Unfiltered. And really fucking arousing. And I was so fucking here for it.

I wanted all that passion, all that pent-up frustration, to finally come out once and for all. My body hungered for his. My mouth salivated from the lack of his kisses. My skin prickled with need for his touch. And my heart cried out for any shred of affection he was willing to offer me.

I wanted his goddamn cock in my mouth.

So I knelt at his feet obediently and waited for him to take what he needed.

Landry’s nostrils flared slightly. “ Now you do what I say?” he murmured in disbelief. He shook off his jacket and flung it to the side before reaching for his shirt cuff to remove the antique silver link.

“Yes.” My voice sounded sultry and breathy in the small space. “I… care about you.”

Landry’s jaw worked as he slid his cufflinks into his pocket and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms flexed as they moved. “ Care about me? Give me a fucking break. You’re the ice king, Kenji. You only care about getting off. Which is fine. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.” He eyed me up and down. “Take off your jacket.”

Though I knew he didn’t mean them, his hard words and dismissive tone hurt. I removed my jacket carefully, folding it and laying it down beside me on the floor. My cufflinks came off more quickly than his, but before I could get my sleeves rolled up properly, the metallic sound of Landry’s zipper shot electricity through my veins.

I met his eyes and tried to stay calm. “I know you’re lying. This matters to you. I matter.”

My eyes focused on his strong hands reaching in to pull out his cock—hands that had manipulated me, commanded me, caressed and adored me. I wanted them on me again.

Landry’s voice cracked over gravel. “I could fuck you right here, leave you on the fucking floor with my cum leaking out of you, and not give a single shit.”

My cock throbbed between my legs. The man was lying, but he looked so fucking hot doing it.

“Okay. If that’s what you want. If that would… help .” I was provoking him on purpose, terrified he might change his mind.

I was on the cusp of getting a reaction out of him—of putting my mouth on him, of feeling his gentle fingers tangle in my hair—and I wanted him too wild with need to care how many wealthy nobles stood just beyond the thin curtain.

His aquamarine eyes darkened hypnotically. “It would help if you sucked me off,” he gritted out.

“Yes, my lord,” I repeated, fighting to keep the giddy joy from showing in my eyes.

He pressed the head of his cock into my open mouth, and my groan of relief was loud enough to carry through the curtain.

Landry shot me a warning glare but ruined the effect a moment later when his eyes fluttered in pleasure. “You look so good on your knees for me,” he murmured.

After three years, I knew how to unravel him quickly and relentlessly. Within moments, he was gasping and begging, his commands jagged with desperation.

I relished the power I had over him like this. Always had. He was expressive and vulnerable in a way he rarely was outside the bedroom.

In a way I’d rarely let him be.

One hand slipped between his legs while the other rucked up his shirt, fingertips grazing taut muscle as his abs clenched beneath my touch. My gaze stayed riveted on his, holding him there and making him see me serving him, devoted to him, his .

I am yours.

I want to make you happy.

I will do whatever it takes.

Landry’s eyes burned like liquid fire. Within moments, he pulled away from me with a glare.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Beyond the thin curtain, glasses clinked, laughter swelled and dipped, and the hum of polite conversation masked the ragged sound of my breathing.

I blinked up at him, jaw aching and lips slick, my head spinning from lack of oxygen… and lack of understanding.

“Like what?”

“Like you want something from me.”

“But I do,” I admitted softly. “I want you to admit you care about me.”

Landry scoffed. “So you can reject me again?” He jerked his sleeves down and smoothed his cuffs as if he was getting ready to rejoin the party. “I could tell you I love you, and you wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t make a damned bit of difference.”

I pushed off the ground to stand before him in the darkened space. The scent of perfume—something expensive and refined—drifted through the partition, reminding me that we shouldn’t be here like this. But there was nowhere else on Earth I wanted to be.

My shirtsleeve hung open and crumpled as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Try me.”

He stepped close, his breath hot against my cheek. “You have no idea,” he warned in a low, desperate voice.

I did, though. Or I was almost sure I did. And the way my heart flung itself around my rib cage at the knowledge should have been biologically impossible. “So tell me.”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“Darling, I’d love nothing more…” I arched a brow and ran a casual finger over his shirt cuff. “…but it seems you’re done using my body for the evening.”

There it was. I’d finally found the hot button. And I’d pressed it long and hard.

Landry’s eyes bored into mine, anger sparking anew. “ Using your body? Never in the history of our time together have I used you! I have loved you from the very first time, Kenji Toma.”

His eyes widened, and his voice broke, like he’d just realized what he’d admitted. But my Landry—my stubborn, beautiful reprobate—didn’t back down… he doubled down. “I love you more than I can even put into words. I would give up my fucking future, my dreams, my family for you. I love you so much, I?—”

I grabbed the front of his shirt. “Landry?—”

He clapped a hand over my mouth. “No. Do not say a single word, or I won’t leave here with my dignity intact. If you reject me again, that’s it, and I’ll dissolve into a pathetic, sobbing mess. If you don’t…”

Landry frowned like he’d never let himself imagine the alternative, and my heart squeezed with something fierce and protective.

No one would ever hurt this man again, I vowed. Even— especially —me.

“If I don’t?” I whispered against his skin.

He sucked in a breath. “If you don’t, I will, quite frankly, experience a medical event and have to be carted out on a stretcher. Either way… please, baby. Please don’t say it.”

Every ounce of love I’d ever felt for him had to be apparent in my eyes. At least, I hoped it was. The words hammered against the back of my teeth, desperate to break free, but for him, I held them back.

He replaced his hand with his lips on mine and kissed me until we were both gasping for air.

I scrambled for my pants, yanking them open while Landry fumbled in his pocket for something. My idea was to relieve the tension with a quick frot, but he had something else in mind.

He spun me around, pressing me face-first into the thick wool coats. I grabbed onto them to keep from tumbling through them into the wall.

“ Lan— !” I squeaked as a slick finger pressed against my hole. Relief and arousal hit me in tandem, sharp and dizzying. I didn’t give a shit what he was using for lube as long as it worked.

“Shh,” he cooed softly in my ear, his chin nudging my hair away from the side of my face. “That’s it. Let me in, beautiful. Good. Just like that.”

The feel of him inside me made my eyes sting, not from pain but from the sheer fucking rightness of it. I’d missed him so much—the way he took over, took care of me, made me feel like the center of his world and my pleasure was his sole focus.

“I love you,” he breathed.

A whimper slipped from my throat.

Landry’s low voice went straight to my balls. “Shh, don’t say it. Don’t.”

My nose burned, eyes welling. He felt so fucking good as he worked his way inside me, slow and deliberate.

“I love you so much,” he murmured. His cock felt like it was in my throat. The stretch burned, forcing me up on my toes.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice raw and rough in my ear. “You have no idea what it does to me when you walk away like I don’t mean anything. Like this… us… is only physical.”

I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong. That it had never been just physical. That saying otherwise had been the only way I knew how to protect myself.

But he slid a hand over my mouth. “Don’t say it,” he begged. “If you don’t want a future with me, lock me out of the bedroom tonight. Because I’m too weak to stay away on my own, but I can’t spend another night wrapped around my executioner.”

His voice broke on the last word.

I reached back and palmed the back of his head, pulling him closer before turning and capturing his lips. The kiss was searing, desperate. He might have worried it was a goodbye, but I forced him to feel my surrender instead.

Without a word, I tried to tell him everything. That I loved him. That my future was his, however he wanted it.

His hand came around to stroke my cock, sending me immediately into the stratosphere. Landry clamped a hand back over my mouth to stifle the sound, but the restraint only drove me higher, wringing every last drop from me.

Just as his movements stuttered and his breath caught with his own release, voices broke through the haze.

A man’s voice grew louder as he reached the curtain. “Your coat is in here, ma’am. Let me fetch it for you.”

Landry ground into me one final time—a defiant, lingering pulse of pleasure—before reality crashed back. He pulled out and shoved me deeper into the alcove before snatching a coat off the rack. He threw it on and pressed me into the darkness of the back corner, hiding as much of me with his body and the heavy fabric as he could.

A woman’s voice followed, far too close. “And my husband’s also? His is a dark gray overcoat with a cashmere scarf tucked into the collar.”

I held my breath and prayed the coat around us didn’t have a scarf attached.

Rustling. A murmur. The sounds of a man checking tags.

Then, the woman let out a satisfied sigh. “Ah, lovely. Thank you very much.”

Footsteps receded.

The curtain dropped closed.

And I exhaled.

“You’re shaking,” Landry murmured.

“I was almost the center of a global sex scandal.” I was aiming for a joke, though it was too real to be funny. “But I suppose it would have quieted any concerns about how real our marriage was if we’d been caught, wouldn’t it? We could’ve blamed newlywed passion.” I laughed nervously.

Landry pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. Shadows sharpened the angles of his face. “Sorry I put you in this position.” He brushed his fingers over my cheek, then pressed a lingering kiss there. He let out a soft laugh. “That’s a blatant lie. But I am sorry we were almost caught.”

I snorted and shoved him back as I leaned down to yank up my pants. He handed me a linen handkerchief before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his cufflinks.

After cleaning up as best we could and checking each other over, he leaned close and caught my mouth in a deep, slow kiss. “Please remember what I said.”

And then he was gone.

I stared after him, heart pounding from the kiss. What the fuck is he talking about?

And then I remembered.

If you don’t want a future with me, lock me out of the bedroom tonight.

A laugh bubbled up before I threw open the curtain and strode back to my seat. Halfway there, Cora stopped me.

“Everything okay now?”

“That depends.” I grinned. “What’s the opposite of locking someone out of a bedroom?”

Her eyes widened, and she looked around to make sure no one had heard. She might have blushed if her cheeks hadn’t already been flushed from the chaos of running the event.

“I’m not sure I want to know in your case since you’re sleeping with my cousin,” she muttered. “But on a completely unrelated note, feel free to take the centerpiece roses home later. You know, in case you… need flower petals for any reason.”

I laughed.

I floated through the rest of dinner, trying not to pay too much attention to Landry in case I giggled like a little girl.

He loved me.

He loved me.

The words weren’t surprising, really, but he’d said them like a promise. Like he meant to build a life on them.

And I wanted that more than anything.

The remainder of the evening lasted a thousand years. I drifted through it in a daze, although my ass reminded me periodically that it would much rather be soaking in a nice hot bath—preferably with Landry—than standing around or dancing.

Landry, of course, looked impeccable. He worked the room effortlessly, always charming and composed, like a man used to owning a runway with poise and grace. Like a man who knew how to wield his rare combination of looks, brains, and charisma like a weapon.

Like a leader.

By the end of the night, my nerves were frayed. Yes, he’d said he loved me, but what did that actually mean? What kind of future did he envision? Was I really going to sign up to be his… what, viscountess? I’d made jokes about it, and obviously, that wouldn’t be my title, but the truth was I’d be expected to shape my life around his.

Was that what I wanted?

As the night wound down, Lydia bustled over with my coat. “There you are. Cora said to fetch you. The viscount’s gone—probably having drinks with a few MPs—and he suggested you ride home with us. Are you ready?”

I wanted to be annoyed that Landry had left without a word, but I couldn’t be. This was to be part of his job—securing votes, playing the game. More than that, I guessed he was deliberately giving me space.

Space to decide. Without pressure or expectation.

Because for all his confidence, Landry was scared, too.

I nodded and slipped on my coat before following Lydia downstairs, where Cora and Jamie were waiting.

Cora held an armload of deep pink roses. Our eyes met, and she winked.

The ride home was a blur of exhaustion. I nodded off as the car slid through the city streets, lulled by the low murmur of Cora and Jamie’s conversation and Lydia’s occasional interruptions. When we finally pulled under the house and got out of the vehicle, the chilly night air jolted me awake.

As the elevator doors opened, Cora slid the flowers into my arms and shot me a grin. “Put these in my room, yeah? Jamie and I are nipping out for another glass of wine.”

I nodded, knowing she was only saying that to keep her nosy mother out of my business. I thanked her with a kiss on the cheek and rode up with Lydia. We exchanged polite, if cool, good-nights before going our separate ways.

I walked slowly down the hall to Landry’s room, wondering how long I’d have to wait for him…

But when I opened the door, Taylor Swift’s “Lover” played low and sultry. Candlelight flickered from candles over the mantel and bedside tables. Instead of a bottle of champagne or wine, a bottle of my favorite fruity water sat on a tray with cut crystal glasses.

My heart skipped.

I scanned the room… and there he was, propped in the doorway to his dressing room, watching me.

Landry’s jacket was gone, shoes missing, tie and cummerbund nowhere to be found. His sleeves were rolled up again, forearms on full display.

He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a luxury campaign—the kind that made you want to buy whatever they were selling if it meant you could have the unattainably beautiful man in the advertisement too.

But the way Landry watched me—tense and wary, like someone who’d placed his final bet and awaited the turn of a card—it was clear he wasn’t selling anything tonight.

I stood there dumbly, clutching an armful of roses. “I thought you were going to let me choose.”