Then when the moment is right–but not too right, because the truth is I just need to come clean—I will tell him everything.
“Landon?” I call, pulling back the curtains around the bed. “Are you coming back? I need you.”
I fall back on the pillows. So. Freaking. Horny.
My fingers reach down, under the sheet. I’m thinking that when Landon comes back to bed, he will love watching me touch myself.
I press a finger against my opening, spreading my entrance with my other hand, so I can reach deep. Then I begin rubbing at my opening with my thumb. Slow circles, hitting my clit with a deepening pressure.
I close my eyes, sighing as I allow myself to be in this moment, imagining Landon coming back to bed, his massive morning erection ready for me. When his cock is hard, it turns me on so fast.
I loved it when he pressed me against the door last night at the bar, how he pulled up my skirt and fucked me so hard.
Remembering his thickness inside my pussy, I begin to release. Visions of his sexy smile and his soft lips fill my mind. I work in steady circles, flicking at my clit as my pussy starts to get nice and wet.
My toes curl as I move a second finger inside, and I move in and out, in and out, thinking of Landon inside me. My wetness soaks my hand; I’m coming all over myself. I roll over to my side, moaning into my pillows.
I think of Landon’s hands all over my breasts, licking my nipples, and then deepening his thrusts, each memory with him floating over me as I move my hand faster, and faster still.
And I come, not able to wait for him to return to the bed. The intensity within my pussy walls mounts quickly, practically begging to explode.
I imagine his strong hands on my waist, his fingers in my pussy, and press a third finger inside myself, reaching against my g-spot—creating an electric buzz inside me as I pant, pushing, pushing, pushing against that sweet spot as my legs shake.
My body reacts to the orgasms washing over me. Again, and again, and I continue to come, thinking of Landon the entire time. Wanting Landon inside me this very second.
When I’m done, I catch my breath, the longing for him intensifying. I need him inside me now.
I pull back the bed curtains, and call his name again.
But he doesn’t answer. That’s weird. I reach for my phone to see the time, and as I do a piece of paper falls to the floor. I reach for it, seeing my name.
Reading it, my brows furrow. He left?
I look at the phone, see that it’s nine a.m. I immediately text him.
But he doesn’t respond. Huh. He always answers.
I call, and it goes straight to voice mail.
“Hey, babe. Saw your note and just wondering were you went, exactly. Anyways, I just woke up, and am thinking of you.”
I end the call and get up, realizing that there’s no point in staying in bed alone.
I only want to be waking up beside him.
Once I’m showered and dressed, I call my mom and chat with her and Sophia.
“Everything okay there?” I ask.
“Honey, we’re great,” my mom says. “Sophia and I are fine. I just hope you’re having fun, too. Not working too hard?”
“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing work. I’m having an amazing time.” I pause, wondering if I should tell her how I’ve fallen for Landon ... but I’m not ready for her response.
I have a pretty good idea of what that will be. She’s the only one who knows the truth. We had enough disagreements about it right after Sophia was born, and I made her swear to never say another word about it. Ever.
And she has listened to my request.
But I’ve also never brought a man home, never fallen in love. Never got fake-engaged. Never wanted to be real engaged.
And now I can’t keep running. Now I need to clean up the mess I made a long time ago.
But I want to talk it through with Landon before I say anything to my mom. Because if Landon ends things with me once he learns that I’m a liar and a cheat, then I will have riled my mom up for nothing.
“Thank you for everything, Mom.”
“When are you coming home again?” she asks. “Was it Sunday or Monday?”
“I’m actually not sure. I’ll ask Landon and get back to you. Did you need me back at a certain time?”
“Honey, we both know I have nothing going on besides Bravo television. I think we’ll be okay.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When I walk downstairs for breakfast, I’m slightly embarrassed by the time of day; it’s already ten in the morning. But when I enter the sitting room, I realize I have nothing to blush over. The place is empty except for Helen.
She sits with a book in her lap, and smiles warmly at me when I walk in.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask.