Sway (Landry Family #1) (21 page)

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Authors: Adriana Locke

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BOOK: Sway (Landry Family #1)
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Me: Can I see you tonight?

Alison: Hux just left to go with my mother.

Me: I can have Troy there in thirty minutes.

Alison: I can drive. LOL

Me: He’s on his way. Be ready.

Shooting a quick text to Troy, I jump in and out of the shower and am pacing the kitchen when the doorbell rings. I laugh at myself as I jog to the entrance and pull the door open.

Alison’s standing on the stoop, a twinge of nervousness in her smile. Her fingers fiddle with the strap of her purse. She’s dressed in a navy blue dress that hits at her knees.

“Come in,” I grin, holding the door open. She shuffles inside, and when I close the door and turn to face her, the entire feeling in my house changes. It’s warm and lively, the emptiness filled by her energy.

Her eyes are soft as she peers up at me. I close the distance and wrap her up in my arms.

“Hey,” she grins, tilting her chin.

“Hey,” I whisper, laying a kiss on her lips.

For the first time all day, I don’t give a fuck about Monroe or the Land Bill or what my father’s take on the situation is. None of it matters because right now, this is the treaty to end all the wars of the day.

“Did you have a good day?” she asks.

I shrug indifferently and her face drops.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Just another day in paradise,” I smile.

“You do like being mayor, right?” She searches my face. “I mean, you ran for office.”

I take her hand and pull her into the living room. “Yeah, of course. I’m the eldest Landry. I was trained for this my whole life.”

“That doesn’t mean you like it.”

We sit on the sofa and she surprises me again. She’s never been here before and she doesn’t bother to do a quick sweep of the place, to see what I have or what it looks like. She just looks at me—and not at my face or my body or my wallet.

At. Me.

I consider her statement. “No, I guess it doesn’t mean that. But I do.” Thinking back to when I first got into politics, my first year as a councilman, I realize how much things, how much I, have changed. “I’ve always enjoyed the process. I think now, I just enjoy it for different reasons.”

She tries to hide her smile, but it tugs at the corner of her lips. “Do I want to know what that means?”

Laughing, I pull her legs over my lap. “Maybe.”

“Maybe not,” she laughs too.

“At first it was a good way to have fun. Being a Landry alone brings a certain amount of . . . let’s say attention,” I wink. “But being in office gives you another dimension. Now, though, I feel like I can do something with that power. I’ve seen kids not have a safe place to play, families really skimping to get by. I can do certain things to help fix that now.”

“Which is why you’ll make a great governor.”

Her voice is careful, her words enunciated very crisply. I furrow my brow, but don’t have time to call her out on it before she speaks again.

“You’ll do all kinds of great things for the state.”

The Land Bill crosses my mind and my spirits begin to sink. It’s one huge thing I can possibly make happen, yet I know it’ll be a battle from every angle.

“Barrett? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say and then look at her. Her eyes are filled with concern, not for the bill or for her agenda, but for me. “I’m more than okay.”

I pull her up and position her so she’s sitting on my lap. Her grin in infectious, her little peacock feather catching the light as it heaves with her rapid breath.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her throat. “Today was really shitty and getting your text made it turn around.”

“Getting beautiful flowers delivered today made mine. Thank you for thinking of me.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, her vanilla scent filling the air. If I could pause time, I’d do it right this minute and sit here looking at her face for the rest of my life.

“I don’t think I’ve stopped thinking about you at all,” I grin. “I have some pretty vivid imagery in my brain of you and—”

“Stop!” she says, her cheeks turning pink. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“Baby, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Her chin drops, her face still flushed, and her realness is almost unbelievable. I want to squirrel her away from the world, keep her protected and just for me in some little box. My little treasure.

“Huxley saw your flowers,” she says, her voice wavering a little.

I chew on my bottom lip, wondering if I fucked up. I didn’t think about her kid and I kick myself for that. “Was it a problem?”

“The only problem was that you don’t know how to play baseball,” she teases, looking back up at me.

“Ah, hell. Why did I have to fall for the girl with a kid that’s a fan of Linc’s?”

She giggles, running her hands down my chest. Her eyes turn from an easy sparkle to a heated twinkle. “You fell for me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Well . . . I mean . . .”

“I know we said slow and I’m all about going slow,” I say, trying to assuage any second thoughts she might be having. Because of all the women I know, all the women I’ve been interested in, this is the one that might really walk away. “But going slow is still going, Alison. And every minute that ticks by is another I’m thinking of you. I want to see you, want to get to know you.”

“I want to get to know you too.”

She starts to move and the change in pressure on my cock, coupled with feeling her pussy brush over it through my workout pants, sends a jolt of energy through my body. I force a swallow, not wanting to push my luck or make her feel like all I want her for is her body. This is one girl that I have to deal with carefully, because more than anything, she deserves it.

“Barrett . . .” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I gulp, trying to control my growing length.

“I know we’re taking it slow . . .”

“Yeah . . .”

“But I’d really like you to fuck me right now. I just haven’t stopped thinking—”

I capture the next words from her mouth with mine, the end of the sentence falling on a sigh. My hands skim down her body, roughing over her breasts, until they land at her waist.

“I don’t have a condom,” I groan, the words washing over her lips.

“I’m on the pill,” she breathes back, her kisses never ceasing. “Are you clean?”

I nod, tugging at her bottom lip with my teeth. She pulls it away.

“Me too,” she whispers, her hands digging at my hips.

Lifting my hips, I shove them over and twist until they’re somewhere low enough so I can be free. Her lips roam over mine, our tongues melting together, lapping up the other’s desire in a heated, passionate frenzy.

Her legs grip my thighs on either side of me. When my hands touch her soft skin, it’s heaven on Earth. I sink back into the sofa and let myself enjoy this moment, her little moans, her hair brushing against my arms, the wetness from between her legs dripping on my cock as she brushes it teasingly against me.

My palms smooth against her thighs, committing the sensation to memory. I scoot my hands under the edge of her dress to feel no barrier between us.

Growling at her pantiless state, the concept such a fucking turn-on, she kisses me even harder, making it impossible to concentrate on any given part of this entire experience.

I typically stay in complete control of situations, but this little vixen in the form of an innocent little mommy, has me whipped into a mess.

Letting two of my fingertips wisp against her pubic bone, her breath catches in her throat. I bite on her bottom lip, tugging her mouth back to mine, and she yelps—half in pleasure, half in pain—before sucking my lip between her teeth.

One hand holds her hip, the other splays against her midsection. My thumb finds her clit and as soon as contact is made, she nearly falls apart in my hands.

She grinds her wetness up and down my shaft, so ready for me that I can’t take it. She can’t either because as I begin to lift her, she reaches down, palming my cock in her hands. Before I can say a word, she sits down on me. Her tightness pulses around me, her breath coming out in ragged bursts.

I pull my face away from hers, my hands finding the side of her angelic face. As much as I want to thrust into her sweet little pussy, I find myself wanting to savor the moment of feeling, for the first time in maybe forever, able to breathe.

Barrett

THE TELEVISION IS ON, THE
volume low, and Alison is giggling at my side. I have no idea what’s actually happening in the movie or what made me bring a plate of Brie, crackers, and fruit into bed, effectively breaking a huge rule of my own.

I’m lost in the sound of her voice echoing off the walls of my bedroom. I’m perplexed by the fact that I’m not sure this room will feel the same without her in it now.

Women have been in my bed before. They’ve stayed the night, stayed the weekend. But as soon as they look at home propped up on my pillows, I’m usually ready to ship them out. So why do I want to lock her down so she can never leave?

She pops a strawberry in her mouth, her lips forming an ‘o’ over the fruit. Her features are animated, soft, uncomplicated. She catches me staring and drops her hands to the bed.

“What?” she asks, swallowing the bite of fruit.

“Nothing,” I grin.

“You’re looking at me weird.”

“Looking at you like you’re beautiful is weird now?”

Her grin widens and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re a charmer, Landry.”

“You’re a beauty, Miss Baker.”

I lean over the tray between us and kiss her lazily. Her mouth is sweet like the fruit and I could go back in for thirds, since I had her once we got in here too, but I don’t.

My landline rings, the handset beside my bed rattling, making Alison jump.

“I didn’t know people still used those!” she exclaims

“No one calls mine but my mother and Nolan. I’d just get rid of it, but it’s wired somehow into the security system of the house or something.”

“Do you need to get it?”

“Nah, it’s too late to be Mom. My cell is off, so it’s probably Nolan pissed he can’t get me and wants to ride my ass about some campaign statement or interview.”

She glances at the clock over my shoulder and presses her lips, still swollen from our kisses, together. “I probably need to be going home.”

“Why?”

She swallows and I see the trepidation washing over her out of nowhere. “Because it’s getting late?”

It’s more of a question than a reason and one I won’t let go.

“We aren’t teenagers, although you could pull off the twenty-something look better than me,” I tease. “Troy can take you home whenever I ask him to. You don’t have to leave now.”

“I probably should.”

I watch her wrangle with her decision and I can tell she doesn’t really want to. She won’t look at me, won’t let me see into her eyes.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

Although the words were harmless, she flutters her eyes up to mine and there’s a spark of pain hidden inside the blue irises.

She doesn’t answer me.

“You better talk to me,” I lead, rubbing my thumb over her knuckle.

“I guess for awhile I forgot who you are.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask, looking at her like she’s crazy. “Who I am?”

She takes a deep breath and the smile on her face is almost one of resignation. “I forgot about all of that,” she says with a wave towards my phone.

“Alison, it’s a part of my job. It’s not going to go away.”

“No, I know,” she sighs. “I just got swept away and . . .” She giggles, a soft, sweet, little rasp. “I relaxed. Do you know the last time I relaxed like this?”

I kiss her again, squarely on the lips. “You can come here and
relax
like this any time you want.”

She takes my hand in hers and draws little designs on my palm. She’s thinking, lost in some world I’m not privy to, and I want to ask questions. My curiosity is off the charts and I want to fix whatever’s bothering her, but I don’t ask what it is because I’m afraid maybe I can’t fix it.

“What scares you, Barrett?” she asks finally, putting both of her small hands around mine. The warmth from her skin floods into me and I want to wrap myself around her in every way.

“Election day,” I half-joke.

She smiles, but I can tell that’s not what she meant. Still, this is not a topic I’d like to delve into heavily.

“The words, ‘It’s your baby.’”

“Barrett!” she laughs, throwing a grape at me. “I’m being serious.”

“Me too,” I groan, but realize she’s not going to let me dodge this question. I blow out a breath and think. “I guess I’m scared of failure.”

The grin on her face dissolves and she leans back against the headboard. “Continue,” she prompts.

I shrug. “I . . . I don’t want to fail anyone. Being in my position, both as a Landry and as the mayor of the city, has all sorts of responsibilities, and I lay awake at night sometimes worrying about the best thing to do for everyone.”

“What about for you?”

My brows pull together and I lean back in the bed and face her. “What do you mean, what about me?”

“What about doing what’s best for you? Do you ever think about that?”

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