Author Anonymous: A True Story Page 2

  My life changed overnight—literally—and Landon was so proud and supported me wholeheartedly. All of a sudden, I wasn’t just a stay-at-home mom, but a published, bestselling author. I even hired Brooke as my full-time assistant, which I have way too much fun with.

  It’s been three years since the release of my first book, and I’ve published several more since then. I’ve written a number of typical, alpha male-driven romances; it’s time to do something different though. But for the past two weeks, I write and delete, write and delete, write and delete. I’m driving myself crazy. I made the decision to take a break from writing until next week. I’m scheduled to appear at a book signing this weekend in Las Vegas, and a few of my friends who are also authors will be in attendance as well. I plan to let loose and not even think about this book until I get back.

  “I am so exhausted,” Landon sighs as he kicks off his shoes and then falls back onto the bed. “But I have some news for you.”

  After pulling my suitcase from the closet, I set it next to Landon and open it. “What’s the news?”

  “Damon got a call from the New York Times.”

  I stop in my tracks with a handful of clothes in my arms and look at him as he tries to play it cool. “The New York Times?”

  He nods, and I toss the clothes on the bed. My jaw drops before repeating with growing elation. “The freakin’ New York Times? Oh, my God, Landon!”

  His smile grows, and I jump onto the bed, taking his face in my hands. “This is amazing.”

  I straddle him when he sits up, and with his arms wrapped around my waist, he laughs under his breath at my display of excitement. “They’re sending a critic to do a write-up. If he likes the food, this could be huge for the restaurant.”

  “What do you mean ‘if’? Of course he’ll like the food; you and Damon are amazing chefs.” I lean in and kiss my husband, who has worked so hard to finally be in the position to garner national recognition. “I am so proud of you, babe. So, when does this happen?”

  “In two weeks.”

  “That soon?”

  “I’ll be working a lot more until then.”

  “Of course. Do you need me to find someone to help out with the kids this weekend while I’m in Vegas?”

  “I was going to call my brother to see if he and Marcia can help out,” he says as he runs his hands through my hair.

  On a faint whisper, I tell him again, “I’m so proud of you,” and then press my lips to his in a slow kiss. His hands drop to my hips, tugging me closer, and I moan into his mouth as the friction between my legs sparks a trill through my body.

  “Yoohoo! Tori?” Brooke’s sing-song voice announces from my cell’s speaker-phone through the app we use to communicate.

  “Ignore it,” Landon mumbles against my lips as we continue to kiss.

  He grabs my breasts over my shirt, squeezing them as he runs his lips down my neck.

  Sensual warmth spreads through my body, building the ache between my thighs, and I grind my hips over his lap. Sparks of pent-up heat sizzle through me, and my body begs for more.

  “Tor, I need to go over the itinerary with you. Oh, also, you had a few last-minute preorder requests, so I’m going to pack some extra books. I also called the hotel to confirm the package deliveries and—”

  Landon drops his hands from me, and I groan in frustration.

  “Let me talk to her really quick and then I’ll turn off the phone,” I tell him while Brooke continues to ramble on in the background.

  He releases a hard breath when I get off the bed.

  “Hey, I’m here,” I tell her through the speaker.

  Landon hates that we use this app, since it’s pretty much a walkie-talkie and he has to listen to us gab.

  “Did you get my last message?”

  “We all got it, Brooke,” Landon calls out so she can hear.

  “Hi, Landon. Why do you sound so crotchety?”

  “No reason, aside from the fact that I was just about to get laid.”

  I shoot Landon an exaggerated look of mortification and mouth the words Oh, my God! to him. He responds with an amused grin. He loves embarrassing me.

  “Sexxxxy!” she teases.

  “You two are so ridiculous. Can we get back to what you need to talk to me about?”

  Brooke goes on to discuss the details of the Vegas trip while I continue to pack my suitcase. Every now and then, I look over to Landon, who is now lost in sorting through emails on his phone. The conversation with Brooke lasts much longer than expected, and after I have myself completely packed and my luggage is in the trunk of my car, I return to the bedroom to find Landon sound asleep.

  “Brooke, I gotta go,” I tell her in a quiet voice. “I’ll message you when I’m on my way to the airport tomorrow.”

  I turn my phone on silent and check the time. Guilt rears its head when I realize I’ve been talking to Brooke for over an hour. When I slip into bed, I look at the face I fell in love with thirteen years ago as the moon casts its glow across the room. We were so young when we met; it seems like a lifetime ago.

  “You love him?” Brooke asks as I rifle through my closet in search of my blue chiffon swing top.

  “What? It’s only been three months.”

  “Yeah, so . . .?”

  “Here it is,” I murmur as I pull the top off the hanger and slip it over my head.

  “You’re with him a lot. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been staying up until all hours of the night texting him.”

  “We really need to get an apartment so I can have my own room,” I respond as I continue to get ready for my date tonight.

  “So, do you love him?”

  “I don’t know,” I tell her while applying some gloss to my lips. “I’m just now getting used to him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Turning from the mirror, I look at Brooke, who’s sitting in the middle of her twin bed. “He’s nice. Like, really nice.”

  “And?”

  “I didn’t like it at first. I guess I was just so used to how Trey treated me that when Landon would do or say sweet things to me, it used to turn me off. In a weird way, it made me feel smothered and icky.”

  “Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

  I shrug my shoulders, walk over to the edge of my bed, and sit down before admitting, “I don’t know. I guess I was embarrassed. I mean, what was I going to say to you, ‘I don’t like him because he’s perfect and nice and it makes me feel gross’?”

  “That’s exactly what you should have said to me.” She shifts to sit on the edge of her bed so we are face to face. “Do you still feel that way?”

  “No.”

  “What are you texting about in the middle of the night?” she teases, and I quickly respond.

  “None of your business, you little perv.”

  Her face lights up. “Let me read!”

  “God, no!”

  “Come on.”

  “You are so nosey, you know that?”

  “Yes, I am well aware. So, are you going to let me read?”

  “Absolutely not,” I say, and before she can continue her begging, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Landon.

  “I’m downstairs in the lobby.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right down.”

  I grab my purse and give myself one last lookover before turning back to Brooke, saying, “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone, will ya?”

  “Never,” she responds with a smile as she gets off her bed and walks toward me. “You’re right. Landon is nothing like Trey, which is why he’s perfect for you.”

  I look at my best friend and then pull her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

  When I make my way to the dorm’s lobby, I see Landon sitting on one of the couches. He looks amazing in his dark-wash jeans and charcoal button-down. His hair is styled perfectly—not a strand out of place. He stands as I walk over to him, and the smile he wears so beautifully releases a flutter inside me.

>   “You look amazing,” he says before giving me a soft kiss to my lips.

  Even though we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now, we’ve been taking things really slow—slower than most girls my age would. Our physical relationship has been very PG-13, aside from the late-night dirty texting. I’m fairly reserved, I always have been, but then again, I’ve only ever been with one guy.

  As we walk out of the building, I catch a few girls giving Landon a gawking eye. He looks down at me and jokes, “Maybe I should’ve done the whole college thing. Apparently, I’m a stud.”

  I playfully jab his ribs and laugh along with him. His humor is one of his best traits.

  He takes me to The Barking Crab where we sit on a wooden picnic table along the water and enjoy lobster and a bucket of crab legs. We take our time, talking and enjoying the sunset before we head to his place. Landon lives in the heart of Boston in an amazing warehouse loft with exposed brick and hardwood floors. I flop down on the leather sofa while Landon grabs some wood and gets the fireplace going.

  My eyes are on his as he walks toward me and joins me on the couch. The sight of him releasing a swarm of sharp-winged butterflies in my stomach. With his arm slung over my shoulders, he tucks a lock of my long brunette hair behind my ear.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, and the compliment makes me blush.

  I run my hand along his clean-shaven jawline. The only light in the room coming from the flickering flames of the fire. My heartbeat kicks up when he moves in and kisses me. His lips are warm against mine, and I immediately soften against him. He shifts over me and lays me down on my back, my legs opening for him to settle himself between.

  His kisses are soft and slow, deliberate with every brushing sweep of his tongue along mine. My mouth is marked by his taste, and I want to lose myself completely with him, but I’m unable to. The thought of letting myself go scares me, as it does every time I find myself in moments like this. I want him badly, but I know all too well how quickly a person can change their colors, and I’m scared I’m just setting myself up to get hurt again.

  Landon begins moving his body over mine, and I instantly tighten my grip on his hips, attempting to halt him. He catches my signal and slows himself down. My face is hot when he drags his lips from mine, taking his sweet taste from my needy mouth. When I open my eyes, he’s looking down at me.

  Slightly embarrassed, I whisper bashfully, “I’m sorry.”

  “Is it me?”

  His question catches me off guard. “What?”

  “Every time I try to touch more of you, you push me away.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t apologize,” he says, his voice a rasp of a whisper. “I just want to know what it is that’s making you hesitate with me.”

  I release a heavy sigh and push myself to sit up, but I don’t speak. I’m not quite sure how to express what I’m feeling.

  “Can I admit something to you?” he asks, taking a little of the pressure from me. When I nod, he runs his hand through my hair and cups my cheek before saying, “I’m falling for you. I have been for a while now. I’ve been trying to rein it in because I can feel you’re holding something back. I just want to know what it is.”

  “Landon . . .” I begin, but lose my words as his seep into my heart. His honesty pushes me to want to give mine in return, but I’m worried my words might hurt him, so I tell him that. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

  “You won’t,” he assures.

  I close my eyes and drop my head for a moment before looking back at him and revealing, “You’re right. I’m scared.”

  “Why?”

  The fire crackles loudly through the silence in the room as I take my time to gather my thoughts enough to answer him without sounding like I’m stumbling nervously over my words.

  “There’s only been one other guy before you,” I tell him when I feel my palms beginning to sweat, but he only holds my hands tighter. “He, umm . . .” I hesitate. “He . . .”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  My eyes fall from his, and I stare at our hands when I tell him, “He hit me.”

  I hear him let go of a hard breath as his hands constrict on mine.

  “It didn’t start out like that. Everything was perfect at first, but then . . . I don’t know, somewhere along the way he changed.” When I finally get the courage to look at Landon, I see the anger in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  “No,” he interjects. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at what that asshole did to you.”

  “I would do things that would anger him and—”

  “Baby.”

  “He would yell at me and throw me around. He’d punch me and slap me—”

  Landon takes my face and angles it up to him. “Is that what you’re afraid of? That I’d hit you?” He speaks with fervency, asserting, “I would never lay a hand on you. That guy was a sick fuck for thinking it was okay to touch you like that. But I’m not him, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you can trust me to take care of you.”

  “I have a lot of strong feelings for you, Landon. I’m just scared to give in to those feelings just to wind up getting hurt.”

  “So you’re scared it might not work out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not everything comes to an end, you know? But what I’m feeling for you, I don’t want to hide from that. Everything inside me is screaming to fall in love with you.”

  “What if loving me isn’t as good as what you’re hoping for?”

  “What if it is?” he counters. “What if loving you changes the trajectory of both our lives for the better?” He takes my hand and presses it against his chest, adding, “But what about you? Are you willing to love me?”

  The sincerity in his voice begs for affirmation, and if there were any man to take this chance with, I know deep inside that it’s Landon.

  “You don’t ever have to be afraid when you’re with me.”

  So without the protection of guarantees, I trust in his words, and tell him, “If you’re willing, I’m willing.”

  He sits back and pulls me on top of him. His hands wrap around my hips, and with mine gripped on to the back of the couch, I drop my armor. I reach down and pull his one hand up to me and rest it on my breast. “Touch me.”

  Gently, he squeezes me in his hand as I watch him, and his eyes never leave mine when he sits up and sucks my nipple, which is still covered by my lace bra and thin chiffon blouse. The sensation ignites me, and I drop my head back. He keeps his mouth on me as the dampness from his tongue seeps through the delicate fabrics, wetting my pert nipple.

  Emotions swarm, a plethora of them, but I choose to hone in on the ones that bring me comfort. The patience Landon has exuded these past few months says a lot about who he is as a man. Never pushing, only ever taking each moment for what it is and allowing us to bond as friends.

  And now . . . now I give in to what I’ve been wanting but have been too scared.

  I unbutton his shirt and push it back, sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms. His skin is smooth under my touch as I run my hands around his back and up his neck, burying my fingers in his hair. Landon’s head falls back onto the cushion, and he stares up at me. His face glows in the firelight.

  “I never wanted anything as much as I want you,” he says deeply, and his words elicit my need to be closer to him.

  Taking the hem of my top in my hands, I slip it over my head and drop it to the floor next to his shirt with my bra to follow next. Exposed to him for the first time, he looks at my body for a moment before shifting his eyes back to mine.

  His breathing is just as heavy.

  He touches me.

  Skin to skin.

  My body melts in a frisson of passion.

  He picks me up and lays me down on my back. His eyes speak for him, asking a silent ‘is this okay?’, and when I nod, his hands grip the waistband of my pants before s
liding them down along with my panties. He keeps his pants, but he spreads my legs and lies between them. With my fingers digging into his shoulders, he slides his tongue over my nipple and then sucks it into his hot mouth. He moves from one breast to the other as he drags his hand down between my thighs. Watching me intently, a sexy smirk graces his lips when his fingers slide between my folds and find my clit.

  “Oh, God,” I moan as I open my legs wider.

  Already wet with desire for him, I can feel him use my arousal to coat his fingers as he rolls them over my clit, driving my body to bow up to him.

  “Open your eyes,” he says, and I do. “Does my touch hurt you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes,” I breathe on a broken pant.

  “Don’t ever be scared of my touch,” he says before sliding his fingers inside me.

  “Landon.”

  My eyes fall shut as he continues to touch me so intimately, but it’s not enough.

  I want more.

  Need more.

  I reach down with greed and unfasten his pants. He helps my eager hands and removes the rest of his clothes. Once he slides on the condom, I pull him down to me and kiss him. He holds himself against me, and I lose my control. Needing him to be mine, I arch my back at the same time he pushes himself inside me, melding our bodies completely.

  This is where my life takes a shift. It’s only a momentary shift, but one I’ve come to yearn for. When I step onto the plane, I’m no longer Tori Garrison, I’m Madilyn Kline. It’s always a breath of fresh air when I can leave Tori, wife and mother, behind and become this pseudo-self I’ve created. Madilyn is perceived by my fans as a seductive woman who radiates confidence and sexuality. But she’s fictional, just like the characters in my books. I’m a far cry from the sexually confident woman the world thinks I am. Sure, I write explicit stories of love and romance, but my sex life is nothing like that in my books.

  The only person in my inner circle who is privy to both women is Brooke. She sees all of me. She always has.