Текст книги "Doing It for Love"

Автор книги: Cassie Mae

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter 2

“You didn’t? Really?”

I grin up at Landon, uncurling my fingers from his biceps. “It’s okay. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. You know that.”

Landon breathlessly growls into the pillow by my head, sweaty body sticking to mine. “I swear, I made it romantic as hell.”

“It was good. Stop being such a guy about this.”

“Do you want me to finish you off?” he offers, sneaking his fingers up my thigh. They feel lazy against my skin, and I bite my smile back and give him a quick peck.

“I’m fine. Really. It was amazing, like always.”

“Mmkay.” His lips are getting lazy now. “I’ll get you next time. You’ll come so hard you’ll…I don’t know…just pretend I said something clever.”

I shake with silent laughs and play with his scruff as his breathing deepens. After-sex Landon is adorable. I bet he’ll be out in less than a minute.

Letting out a sigh, I turn to the ceiling, allowing my mind to slide back into the real world. Theresa and I used to call sex “Chocolateville” ever since she compared eating a double-fudge raspberry cheesecake to the best orgasm she ever had. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, I stole her plate and ate half.

I was in line at the skydive in Chocolateville while Landon jetted right past the guards. I’m really trying not to be disappointed, but it’s been a while. It’s my own damn fault. He obviously orgasms just as frequently as he did before.

He starts breathing heavy, his mouth partly open and half his face pressed into the pillow. I bite my smile back and poke his cheek. When he doesn’t move a muscle, I slide from the sheets, grab my phone, and do the crisscross after-sex walk to the bathroom, forgetting that I don’t need to. My fingers are already flying across the keyboard, texting Theresa when I shut the door.

I need to cash in on the pact we made on graduation. :) :)

I put the phone on the counter and take care of business, legs bouncing as I wait for her response. And of course Aunt Flo makes her appearance now. I grapple for the tampons and shout through the door, “Definitely not pregnant!” even though Landon is probably out of commission for the rest of the night.

My cell vibrates, so I speed through washing my hands to answer it.

“Hey,” I say, really trying the innocent thing, but I’m too stoked to pull it off.

“Are you in the bathroom?” Theresa sleepily chuckles. “Your voice is echoing.”

“I’m not peeing.” I crack the bathroom door and check on Landon. His entire body is covered with the comforter minus one leg dangling off the edge. I press the door closed and whisper into the phone. “So, can I cash in?”

“For real?”

“Hell yes.”

“You need a maid of honor?” Her voice squeaks on the last word, and I do a total Snoopy dance, buck naked in my bathroom, stifling my squeals with my girlfriend. Theresa asks question after question, but she’s rattling them off so fast I don’t understand them.

“Wait, what?” I say through my smile.

“When? How?”

“Few hours ago.” A large sigh flits through my lips as I grab a towel for my waist and slide to the chocolate brown bath mat. “It just fell out when we were in the shower.”

She snorts. “It wasn’t in the middle of sex, was it?”

“No. It was…sweet.” I let my mind replay Landon’s eyes, his words, his hands. “Perfect.”

“Good. You deserve nothing less.”

“Thanks.” My fingers splay across the bath mat, and I mindlessly pick at the fraying edge. “We did it after though.”

“Ah, engagement Chocolateville.” She sighs now, and I laugh picturing her taking that huge bite of cheesecake. “I’ve heard it’s up there with make-up sex.”

A weird weight sinks into my stomach. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” She gasps. “Oh no. Less than stellar, huh?”

“It was fine. I’ve just had so many mood swings. Then we couldn’t find a condom, so we had, like, a halftime breather. So, you know, not totally revved up. Not his fault.”

“That’s too bad. I’ve heard that engagement sex is better than the actual wedding night.”

“What? No.” I wrap my finger around a loose string in the mat and pull. “The wedding night will beat out everything.” It has to. I am determined to find our spark again specifically for that night.

“Think about it. You’re running around all day. Waking up early, getting dressed, undressed, standing in heels, hugging a million people you don’t know, lugging the presents up to your apartment after, or even worse…you might jump right onto a plane and the second you get to your hotel you’re jet-lagged and beat. You’ll probably draw straws for who can just lay there while the other person does the work.”

“Wow, thanks for that thought of encouragement.” I pull my towel around my chest and rest my forehead on my knees. “I was really looking forward to that night. First time with him as my husband.” My heart thumps hard when the word tumbles out. “He unzips my wedding dress, and I rip off his tie. We’re on a California King somewhere tropical and fun.” The honeymoon had better be somewhere tropical. My Southern ass freezes here on Long Island. I constantly have to put my feet against Landon’s legs to warm them up at night.

I blow out a breath, making the line fuzz. “Kind of ruins the whole picture if you’re telling me the sex will suck.”

“I’m just saying you’ll be tired.”

“I’ve been tired before and had epic sex.” Landon was gone for a month visiting his parents, and I jumped him the second he got off the plane. It was four in the morning, I hadn’t slept all night, and he was majorly jet-lagged. Did not matter at all. We started up in the car, he had me screaming in the front seat, screaming against the door when we got home, and we made it as far as the living room couch before landing double-fudge raspberry cheesecake together.

But that was, oh hell…I don’t know, a year ago? Maybe more.

“Well, do whatever you did that time.” Theresa laughs, and I sort of chuckle with her, my buzzed brain skipping tracks left and right. It was epic sex because we’d been waiting for it…anticipating it.

“Hmm…”

“What?” she asks through a yawn.

I pull at the bath mat again. “Do you think…?” My thoughts steal my voice as they run through my head. Sex with Landon is good. Always fun. It’s just not new. It’s…longtime-relationship sex. Scheduled, predictable, and usually ends with a snoring Landon and a bowl of ice cream. So how can I make sure I land a ticket to Chocolateville the day we become husband and wife? Oh my hell…will we even have sex on our wedding night?

Theresa clears her throat. “Do I think what?”

“You think maybe…we should wait?”

“Wait for what?”

“Like no sex until that night. Then it’ll be amazing because we’ll be dying for it.” It’s ridiculous. I don’t think Landon will go for it. But Theresa will tell me if I’m totally craz—

“I’ve heard of couples doing that,” she says, her tired voice picking up. “Sounds like a test in great restraint if you ask me, but also could be…well, fun.”

“You think?”

“Totally. When was the last time you guys went as far as you could without going there? I think it’s exciting. Might bring something back…”

I want to defend my sex life, but my mind is on the track she painted. My heart warms and thumps as a grin spreads across my face. Foreplay without sex could amp us both up so much our wedding night will be one I can guarantee we won’t forget. I have to clench my legs together just thinking about it.

It will be like new relationship sex all over again.

“Landon probably won’t go for it.”

She yawns again, and I look at the Beetlejuice clock on the bathroom counter. It’s 2:39 in the morning, and she hasn’t said a single word about waking her up in the middle of the night. I love my best friend.

“No harm in asking, right?”

“I guess.”

“Then just ask.”

I set my jaw. “I will tomorrow. He’s totally crashed out.”

“Of course he is.” She makes a noise like she’s stretching, and I automatically stretch too. “And you have to show me the ring tomorrow.”

“As soon as I get it.”

“It’s not on your finger?”

I stare at my bare hand. “Not yet. He said it’s somewhere in the apartment, but, well, we got distracted.”

She lets out a tired laugh. “Clearly.”

“Okay, you can sleep.”

“I’m good, I promise. I can still talk if you want.”

I shake my head, smiling at the floor. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you. Congratulations!”

“Love you, too.”

I press the end button and let my head fall back to the wall. If someone had asked me this morning if I thought I’d feel like this right now, I would’ve laughed in their face. As weighted as I felt when I woke up on day fourteen of the missing Flo, I didn’t think it was possible to float ever again. But I hug my phone and the towel to my chest, smiling like a fool at the bathroom ceiling, wondering why I’m not up there bouncing.

I’m engaged.

Engaged.

Best. Day. Ever.

Chapter 3

I stand in the kitchen, hands firm on my hips while I cluck my tongue. “Where in the hell?” I whisper, eyes skating over every surface in my apartment. The junk drawer is empty, contents strewn over the counter. Our card table is piled with Landon’s jeans, each one with the pockets outturned. The living room looks like it barfed Rubbermaid bins.

And still no sign of a ring!

The first ray of sunlight streams through the balcony blinds, and a leap goes through my tummy. “The balcony storage!” I all but holler, my stride dead set on that sliding glass door even though I’m only in my ugly (but totally comfortable and warm) orange pajama shorts and clashing green tank top with no bra. The chill in the September air makes my nipples instantly perk as I step outside.

We seriously need to put up a wind chime or maybe a chair or something out here. It’s so plain, just the wood that needs a coat of varnish and a door on the right that leads to storage. We only keep our bikes in there, but Landon could’ve put the ring on a hook or in his helmet, or something. Because if it’s inside, either it’s up his ass or imaginary.

The door slightly creaks as I pull it open, and I flick on the dusty light, careful about where I step in case there’s a giant spider in here. I check the helmets, the hooks along the wall, even inside the cobwebby water bottles attached to our bikes. Seriously…where did he hide—

“I’d put on a jacket if you’re going for a ride.”

My stomach leaps into my throat and my feet leave the ground. “Shit! Don’t do that!”

Landon scratches his bare abs, then settles his hand on the door frame. His dark hair is flattened on one side of his head, and there are pillow lines across his cheek.

“It’s not out here.” He grins.

I let my heart go down to normal beats per minute, then slide past him to get back inside. His hands latch onto my waist, and he hugs me from behind. His body is warm. It’s always warm. He’s like my own personal heater.

“Where is it?” I ask, linking my fingers through his over my bellybutton.

“What? No good morning, how’d you sleep?”

“Morning.” I tap his knuckles. “Where is it?”

His soft laughter tickles the small hairs on my neck. “I hid it.”

“Where?”

He sweeps my scraggly blond ponytail across my shoulders, placing playful kisses on my skin. Curse his power of distraction.

“I gotta get ready for work,” he says into my ear. I shiver like I’m still standing out on the balcony, and he chuckles and squeezes my hand twice. I squeeze back once.

“Oh, by all means, take your time getting the ring on my finger. You know how patient I am.”

“It’ll be on your hand before I leave today.”

He nips at my shoulder again, then weaves through the obstacle course I created in the living room. I pout behind his back, playing with my bare ring finger. I need a distraction, or I’ll tear this place apart even more.

After getting past the Rubbermaid bins and clearing off a space wide enough on the counter to fix myself some coffee, I start the pot and slouch on the couch with the laptop.

I pull up my Pinterest and go to my wedding board. Not that I have a ton of pins on here…or that I thought this would be happening anytime soon, but some people post the prettiest dresses or the cutest cakes and I needed a place for them. When I started the board a little less than four years ago, I gave Landon a heart attack. We’d only been dating a month. So of course I played it up, had some fun with him, and I thought he was joking when he asked me to move in with him just to get back at me. But he wasn’t. And I haven’t regretted that decision at all. Well, minus those darn socks he leaves everywhere. It’s still one of the Hurdles from my Moving In With Boyfriend List I have yet to clear.

Oh! My Hurdles List…I should make one for planning the wedding. I click over to Word and start typing:

The Hurdles of Getting Married

1. Get Landon on board with Operation Make Wedding Night Sex the Greatest Ever.

2. Tell friends and family

3. Actually meet the in-laws (bonus Hurdle…get them to like me!)

Some very angry wings beat in my stomach with the thought of meeting Landon’s parents, and I hurry and type more Hurdles so I don’t have to think about it right now.

4. Find the perfect dress. (!)

5. Find the perfect (i.e., sunny) honeymoon locale

6. Book the perfect venue.

Oh, I know exactly which one, too. Landon and I made a pact on our two-year anniversary. He accidentally gave the cabdriver the wrong address and instead of going to the Pranna Restaurant, we ended up at the Boathouse in Central Park. After teasing him relentlessly that he was planning on marriage so soon, he said that the next time we were at the Boathouse, we really would be getting married.

I pull up their website and my bank account, patting myself on the back for being such a penny-pincher that we have a nice savings balance.

“Ugh…” I groan as I click through available dates, spanning out two or three years. Hell no. I cannot be sex free for that long. Just as I’m about to pass this Hurdle to my mom, I find a January date.

January…perfect. I can picture it now…winter wedding, snowflakes and hot chocolate fountains. Then we can take off to our honeymoon in the Bahamas. Bonus! I get a week of winter somewhere above thirty degrees.

And to top off the perfection, January is the month I met Landon.

I was lucky to get into an advanced theater program my freshman year of college. My first class was after Christmas Break. I did all the plays in high school, performed at a couple theaters as an extra a few times. I loved it. And when I waltzed into the class that’s usually reserved for upperclassmen, I held my back straight and smiled like I belonged there. Because I did. I’d earned it.

There weren’t many empty seats and they were organized in kind of a group fashion, chairs randomly around the room, and it looked like people would just grab one and drag it to their friends. My eyes swiveled around at my classmates, who all seemed to have people to talk to. No loners out there, and really, there aren’t many shy people in theater, so I took a deep breath, found an open seat in a pretty large group, and marched over.

“Hey, I’m Liz,” I announced when I got there. They all were polite, waving and saying “hey” back, so I let go of my nerves and went to sit. But my butt hit nothing but air, and a yelp flew past my lips while my stomach shot up to my throat. I landed with such a loud thud that everyone in the room looked over while my face went instant flush. My hand fell on someone’s foot, and I glanced up at ratty jeans, a graphic tee, and a wide-open jaw, to gray eyes and baseball cap. His mouth looked stuck open, until he finally said something.

“I. Am. So. Sorry.” He let go of the chair in his hand and reached down to help me off my ass. “I didn’t know…I thought that chair was free.”

The laughter around us died a bit as people went back to their conversations. My tailbone throbbed, but I managed to semi-smile and say, “It’s okay.”

His face looked as red as mine felt, and he scratched the back of his hat. “Uh, here, it’s all yours,” he said, handing the chair back. Not wanting to make things even more awkward, I took it and joined the large group, who let me know that I’d fit right in because I knew how to make an entrance.

I spent the whole class trying not to look over at gray-eyed hat guy, but my eyes wouldn’t stop flicking in his direction. He totally had the Luke Bryan thing going for him, and he was always looking at me when I looked at him, then we’d both shoot our gaze somewhere else. To this day, I have no clue what we learned in that first class.

After the teacher dismissed us, I made sure not to trip over my heels as I made my way to the parking lot. But someone tapped my arm right outside the quad, and he fell in step with me.

“Would you like an opportunity to embarrass me? So we’re even.”

His voice was gruff and cool-like, and a burst of laughter flew from my mouth.

“You worked on that line for the last hour and a half, didn’t you?”

“Did it work?”

I smiled. “Maybe.”

He moved in front of me, walking backward. “I’m a terrible singer. We could go to a karaoke bar.”

“Hmmm…no good. I’m eighteen and no fake ID.”

“All right.” He smiled, and I can still feel the leap my stomach took when he didn’t care about how young I was. “Something else, then.”

I stopped walking, tucking my hair behind my ear and clutching whatever book I had in my hand to my chest. “How about bowling?”

“Ah, see, that wouldn’t work,” he said with a tilt of his head. “The point is to embarrass me. Not embarrass you twice, Tumbles.”

“Think you’re that good, huh?”

“I know I am.”

“Then embarrassing you will be more fun than I thought.”

His grin did me in, and I felt like a melted pool of butterflies on the sidewalk when he asked, “You free tomorrow night?”

And because I had lost control over my tongue I said, “I’m free right now.”

The second he called me “Tumbles,” he had me. He didn’t know it, but I sure as hell did.

I blink to the present, let out a content sigh, and click on BOOK NOW. Then I almost drop half our savings on the SAVE THE DATE, but I better make sure Landon’s okay with me swiping the card.

The bedroom door opens down the hall, and I get a wave of Landon’s cologne before he pops into the room. He pours two mugs of coffee, dumping four spoonfuls of sugar in mine and five in his, then sets the steaming hot deliciousness into my hands.

“Already planning?” he asks, gesturing to the screen. I blow across my mug and nod.

“Do you think five months is long enough?”

His brow crinkles. “Long enough to what?”

“Plan a wedding.”

He lowers his mug, a smile on the edge of his lips. “You want to get married in five months.”

“If that’s okay.”

“Whatever you want.” He leans over to kiss my cheek. “I would’ve married you yesterday if you asked.”

Warmth fills me up—though that could be the coffee—and I smile behind my mug wondering how the hell I got so lucky. Maybe if he’s so agreeable, I don’t have to worry about convincing him on the no-sex deal.

Hurdle number one…you’re up. Maybe I should do stretches.

“Hey, so…I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure,” Landon jams his phone in his back pocket and guzzles his coffee, eyes moving wildly over the counter in search of his keys or wallet. “But I’m running late, so make it fast.”

I move the laptop to the coffee table and put on an excited grin. “I was thinking I wanted to make our wedding night really special.”

He stops fumbling around for his keys, gaze flicking up to me. “Oh?” His grin gets wicked. “I most definitely will be up for that.”

“Good, because here’s what I’m thinking…” I say, and he goes back to digging around the counter. Here goes nothing.

“No sex till we’re husband and wife.”

Chapter 4

I feel like I’ve stepped into one of those movies where the main character presses pause, starts talking to the audience, and walks through all the frozen people around them. I purse my lips, holding back my laughter as Landon continues to stare, stare, stare at me like I’ve sprouted hair all over my chin.

“Um, babe?” I ask, waving my arm in front of me. “You still in there?”

He blinks. “I’m waiting for you to say ‘Bazinga.’ ”

“I’m serious. I think it’ll be fun.” And get us out of our rut.

His eyebrow arches, and I wait for the inevitable “no,” but it doesn’t come. Instead, he unfreezes, swings his key ring around his finger, and says, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yep.” He pulls his jacket on and grabs his weathered Sweeney Todd baseball cap. He doesn’t put it on just yet, walking over to me and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “I’ll call you on my break.”

“Wait a second.” I snatch his jacket pocket. “That was way too easy.”

“You think it’ll be fun. So let’s do it.” He grins. “Or not do it.”

“You realize it’s five months.”

“Yeah.”

“No sex at all.”

“Okay.”

“No form of sex.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“And you’re seriously just okay with no reason other than ‘It’ll be fun’?” I cross my arms. “I don’t buy it.”

He growls, sliding onto the couch next to me. “Okay…don’t get mad…but you do this a lot.”

My brows bunch in the middle of my forehead. “Do what?”

He runs a hand over his face, then around the back of his neck. “You get really excited about something, and then…well, the next day you just…aren’t as excited.”

Oh hell no. “You’re lucky I stayed excited about you.” I poke him in the chest, and he rubs the spot out with a laugh.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Bull. He still thinks I’m going to flake out. He’s dead wrong. If anything, he just sealed it airtight. Even if he wasn’t going to go along with it, I’ve just shut my business down for…well, business.

“All right. Hands off until January.” I smile big and determined. But a flash of confusion runs across his face.

“January…”

“That’s five months, Landon.”

“But January is Sundance.”

Balls. Sundance is Landon’s annual movie nerd orgy. He hasn’t missed one since he was seventeen. Normally I’d be okay with it, and I’d suggest going with him, but the thought of all that snow has me shivering already.

“Can you skip one year?” I ask, knowing the answer before he even opens his mouth.

“It’s Sundance, Lizzie.”

“But it’s our wedding now, too.”

He pats his hat against his leg. “Does it absolutely need to be?”

His eyes swivel back and forth between mine, studying and begging and pulling all that manipulative puppy dog shit, but I just give him the same look back. I face the computer toward him.

“It’s the only open date at the Boathouse for at least another year.”

“And you don’t want to wait till then.”

“Do you want to wait a year with no sex?”

He smiles, but then stops with the look I give him.

“So…it has to be January?”

“It was our meet-cute.”

A small laugh flits from his mouth. “What the hell is a meet-cute?”

“Well, in this case it was you dumping me on my ass and me wiping the bowling alley floor with you after.” I grab his hand and squeeze twice. He squeezes back once. “Our meet-cute.”

“That’s why you want it in January…”

I nod, smiling as I see his wall cracking.

“So,” he says, “honeymoon at Sundance?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Utah? Who the hell honeymoons in Utah?”

“Skiers,” he offers. “And wives who really love and support their wannabe director husbands.”

“Nice try.” I pick up his cap and set it on my head. “I want somewhere tropical. A beach and sand and water. You in those red and black board shorts.” I sigh, and he laughs at me. “Somewhere warm…please?”

“We can watch a movie about the beach…”

I growl, tossing my head back. “Landon!”

“Lizzie!” he mimics.

I kick him in the leg. “Can we fight about this later and get back to what we were talking about?”

“What? The no sex thing and how that somehow equals fun?”

“Yes, smart-ass. Sometimes delayed gratification gets my rocks off. You remember when you vacationed for a month?”

He grins a wicked grin and runs a hand up the inside of my shorts. “Mmhmm…”

“It’ll be like that,” I say as his fingers make a naughty trail across my underwear line, and I gulp so loud it echoes in my ears. “Only better because it’ll be months and months.”

“I told you,” he whispers as he leans in. “I’m okay with it. I just don’t think you’ll last.”

“I bet I’ll last longer than you.”

His eyebrows rise, and there’s a tilt of his lips that he always gets when he’s thinking “challenge accepted.” It’s one of the sexiest expressions he has, and I clench my jaw, refusing to look at his mouth and lose this thing before it starts.

“Okay.” He slips his hand out of my shorts.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll take that bet.” He takes his hat off my head and sets it on his. “And when I win, I get Sundance.”

I pull my feet under my butt and stare him down. His eyes flick to my lack of bra, and he gulps. Too easy.

“Then we should establish rules, right? Like hands off the ladies.” I gesture to my breasts, and he laughs. “And none of the lower lady touching either.”

“Then you can’t touch Lord Landon,” he fires back. Like that’ll be hard for me.

“Neither can you.”

He jerks back. “Wait…what?”

“The whole point of this is to get ourselves revved up. How can we do that if you spend the sex-free five months with a box of tissues?”

He purses his lips, like he’s thinking what the hell have we started, and I cross my arms, challenging him to give up a minute in. After a few seconds, he sighs and says, “You can’t touch yourself either.”

“Okay.” Cake. “And whoever breaks the rules loses.”

“You won’t last a week.”

I nearly snort. Yeah, I’m usually the instigator of sex, but I know him. I’ll be surprised if he lasts the day.

“Does that mean you’re in?”

Landon pauses, staring me down while I do the same. He playfully grins, and asks, “I can still kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Anywhere that isn’t ‘the ladies,’ right?”

I tilt my head, considering. “Yeah.”

His smile grows, and he leans forward. “Then I’m in.”

He pushes his forehead against mine, gently giving me Eskimo kisses. I reach up to hold his face, give him a goodbye kiss since I’ve made him incredibly late for work, but he catches my hand. My eyes flick down as he slides the diamond on my ring finger.

“Did I do okay?” he asks, twisting the ring. My mouth splits open into a wide grin, and I throw my arms around his neck and leap into his lap.

“Where did you hide it?” I squeal, my hand stretched out behind his back as I stare at the beautiful diamond, eyes watering because it feels incredibly real now. I’m getting married!

“I’m going to keep that a secret in case I need to hide anything else.” He presses light kisses to my bare shoulder, slowly working his way up my neck to my mouth. I lean back to return the kiss, and after three seconds I have to push him away because I feel things happening behind his zipper, and I may grind without even thinking about it. I give myself an A+ in restraint.

“Hey, babe?” I say, playing with the ring and moving my gaze to his eyes. “When I win, we get the Bahamas.”

And I will have delicious Sex on the Beach.

The drink, and the deed.