Crossing The Line: A Finding Lord Landry Bonus Scene

I recommend reading this short after finishing Finding Lord Landry. Enjoy!

Landry

Was there a small part of me that got into trouble on purpose? That craved Kenji’s attention and wanted to provoke a response out of him?

Maybe.

But if there was, I’d picked a shit-ass time to pull it. When the cop had slapped cuffs on Zane and me in Philly, Kenji had been hundreds of miles away in Boca Raton visiting his grandmother, which meant Bash had been the one to come bail us out.

And Sebastian Dayne was not a man to anger. Especially when he’d been in the middle of some kind of quirky fuck-fest with the pissant who’d lied to him about being Sterling Chase at the Coalition for Children gala.

Not that I was one to talk about liars. I lived in the glassest of houses.

I’d been lying to my best friends for years, from the very beginning. Building relationships with my four closest friends on lies was like creating the most incredible LEGO skyscraper on a toothpick foundation. I waited every day for something to knock it down. And maybe… maybe I was secretly hoping for it.

Balancing my separate lives was exhausting and isolating. As Landry Davis, professional supermodel, my image was literally plastered everywhere. On the side of buses, on billboards, on website landing pages, and in everyone’s social media streams. While I hadn’t gone looking for a career in modeling—and quite frankly, most people didn’t—it had found me. At first, accepting modeling contracts was like playing a dangerous game. Like taunting the British press by dangling one of their beloved peers right in front of their faces, cloaked in an invisibility spell.

But playing a dangerous game can become exhausting, especially when the stakes grow year after year. The contracts became higher-profile at the same time my father’s cronies began noticing they hadn’t seen the Davencourt heir in years.

I was tired. And lonely. And the one man I seem to have imprinted on, the most beautiful, competent, capable man I’d ever met, thought I was dirt on his shoe. At best, I was a to-do list item to be ticked off on his ever-present tablet. At worst, I was a problem child, a pain in his ass. An unreliable playboy not worth his time, much less his respect.

And this time, I’d proved him right yet again.

I’d heard his angry voice on the other end of the line when Bash had called to arrange our bail. It should have made me feel chastened and guilty.

It hadn’t. Instead, it made me feel horny and desperate. It was a strange kind of itch, like wanting to be punished but not. It was more like… I wanted an excuse to punish him. For not somehow seeing the real me under the lies. For not giving me the benefit of the doubt. For not realizing I’d done what I’d done in Philadelphia to keep Zane’s career from careening out of control.

So when Kenji Toma came straight to my penthouse from the airport to give me a piece of his mind, his mind wasn’t the only thing I wanted a piece of.

His fist pounded on the door. I expected a prim, perfectly poised Kenji on the other side of the door, but that wasn’t what I got.

His hair was wispy and wild despite being pulled back in a messy bun. His shirt was rumpled and half-untucked, and his messenger bag, slung across his chest, was gaping open from a broken zipper. When he saw me, his eyes widened comically as if he was a little surprised to discover where he’d ended up.

“What…?” I began, trying to decide between asking him what hedge he’d been yanked through backward and whether he’d been assaulted on his way here.

He blinked and frowned before shoving past me. “Shut your mouth and get out of the way. I’m coming in, and you’re going to listen to me.”

I closed the door behind him and turned to follow. “You look like you’ve been mauled,” I said as lazily as possible, trying to hide my excitement at seeing his gorgeous face.

“I have been mauled spiritually,” he spat over his shoulder. “I have been mauled professionally. Some might even say I’ve now been mauled in my fucking eyeballs because, seriously, what are you wearing right now?”

Instead of looking down at the soft tartan kilt my agent had sent with a recent contract offer, I watched Kenji’s dark eyes devour it. They quickly moved upward across my bare stomach and chest, returning to my stomach before winging their way up again. By the time his eyes met mine, they were a little glassier than usual. 

“You like?” I asked.

His frown turned into a full scowl. “No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous. I just wondered why you would be standing around half-naked in a fucking kilt on a fucking weeknight, but then I remembered that you’re fucking batshit and do whatever the fuck you want, including getting fucking Zane fucking arrested in fucking Phila-fucking-delphia.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow while he continued to rant in the middle of my living room. Kenji Toma didn’t do unhinged. In fact, Kenji was always the most hinged of all of us. He kept the rest of us from coming anywhere close to unhinged.

But right now, hinges were pinging off him like heat tiles on space-shuttle re-entry.

“That kid is as pure as the fucking driven snow. He would have sooner thrown his grandmother into a men’s super-max prison in South Georgia than get himself involved in drunken destruction of property. I don’t know what you did after that concert to convince him that he needed to—”

“Are you done?” I asked, cutting in but deliberately sounding as bored as possible to provoke him. “Because I have someone coming over for a quick fuck.”

It was a lie. The only date I had tonight was with a long hot shower and a complicated tax memo from my family solicitors. But Kenji was incredibly fun to rile.

His eyelids nearly turned inside out, and his cheeks flushed. “Of course you do. Because god forbid you go one single fucking day without fucking some fucking—”

I’d never heard him say this many f-words at once, and I was having a hard time holding my teeth together to keep from laughing. He was beautiful and bright and fifty-thousand times sexier when he was steaming mad. It was a good thing the man wouldn’t ever consider me for a relationship of any kind because I would most likely egg him on deliberately to see his face turn pink like this.

“Wait,” he said, interrupting himself. “I don’t have an NDA for someone new. Who’s coming over here? If it’s that Patrick guy, think again. He’s been picked up on an identity theft charge. And if it’s Malcom, that’s also a no. He’s creepy as fuck, and I don’t trust him.”

I glanced at the hand he held down by his leg. His thumb tapped the pad of his middle finger rhythmically, which was something he only did when very tired and borderline overwhelmed.

“You don’t know Malcom. He’s not creepy. He’s… different.”

Kenji’s eyes narrowed. “Different meaning he’s currently standing outside of the cast exit of a Broadway show waiting for his crush to come out in hopes—”

I cut him off with a laugh. “How do you even know so much about this guy? All I know is that he makes a funny sound when he—”

“Stop,” Kenji cried, holding up a hand. “Fuck. Stop. I don’t want to hear about any funny sounds. Gross. Keep your sexual habits to yourself. And I know this because we have everyone investigated before we green-light your escapades. And I haven’t green-lit anything for you tonight.” He swallowed. “So no sexual escapades.”

His cheeks were still adorably pink.

I stepped closer, which seemed to fluster him. “I’m in need of a sexual escapade, Kenji.”

His cheeks flexed from grinding his teeth. “Too bad. Learn some restraint. Maybe you need to experience disappointment every once in a while.”

I stepped even closer. The scent of him filled my nostrils. Kenji’s familiar combination of toiletries mixed with faint traces of airplane travel and sweat. Was I insane for finding it irresistible?

“W-what are you doing?” he asked, turning his head toward me as I stepped right up next to him. His eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks.

“Grabbing my phone,” I said, reaching past him to the shelf where I’d left it. “If I can’t have Patrick or Malcom, I need to find someone new.”

Kenji grabbed for the phone, accidentally pressing up against my bare back as I lifted my arm to keep it out of reach. “You’re not calling someone without an NDA, and I am not going through the process to vet someone new tonight. So forget it.”

I turned back around, staying close to him so that his front brushed against my chest as he continued to reach for my phone. “Careful, Kenji. All this rubbing up against me is making the situation more dire,” I teased.

His eyes shot wide, and he leapt back from me, nearly tumbling over a side table. The embarrassment turned quickly to anger.

“You’re such a fucking shit,” he snapped. “Grow up, Landry. Zane deserves better than to be lured into breaking the law. He’s worked his ass off for his career, something you wouldn’t understand, and one bad decision—”

“And I haven’t worked my ass off?” I asked, losing any semblance of the calm I’d been trying to project. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Sit still, look pretty. How hard can it be, really?”

I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see him, I wouldn’t accidentally punch him in his beautiful face.

“If you truly believe that, I need you to get out of my apartment,” I said in a voice, gritty and raw. I was worn down from the ten-day shoot I’d been on before meeting Zane in Philly, and I was even more exhausted from waking up early to hop on a call with my father to go over an error he’d found in a financial summary report I’d compiled. Being accused of not working hard rankled the fuck out of me.

Kenji glared at me. “I’m not leaving until you promise not to find some random man to suck your dick.”

“I will find whoever the fuck I want to suck my dick. And unless you’re going to do it, I suggest you leave before that person shows up.” I faked texting someone.

“Are you so desperate that you’ll fuck just anyone?”

I made a show of looking him up and down, pretending not to be impressed with what I saw. “Not just anyone. I have standards.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’d be lucky to fuck me, asshole.”

“Mpfh.”

Kenji’s squawk was satisfying. “I could make your pathetic, desperate ass come in two minutes.”

I sighed and glanced at my fingernails. “Sure, baby. Sure.”

His jaw clenched, and his nostrils flared before he pointed to the overstuffed chair facing the wall of windows in my living room. “Sit the fuck down. If I make you come in less than ninety seconds, you promise to lay off the goddamned random hookups for one month and give me a fucking break from this bullshit.” His eyes blazed. “Start a fucking timer with your stupid fucking phone.”

My heart hammered. Was he serious? I wasn’t willing to risk missing out if he was. My ass met the chair in microseconds while my ego did its best to throw up a line of defense. “You talk a big game, Toma. When was the last time you even saw a penis? It has to have been a while. Not sure they have many of them in the break room at the office.”

He moved in front of me and knelt down, making my half-hard dick roar to life so quickly it was borderline painful. “You’ve obviously never met Ravi in the legal department,” he said, pushing the kilt fabric up my thighs as if this was all business for him. The hair on my legs prickled at his touch, and the air in my lungs went sluggish and thick.

The Sterling Chase attorney he mentioned was an attractive man, fawned over in the office by both men and women. “Liar,” I bit out. “Tell me you haven’t fucked that man.”

“I wasn’t the one doing the fucking,” he said, meeting my eyes and raising an eyebrow.

I sucked in a breath, picturing Kenji’s slender form being railed in our corporate break room by Ravi Kateel, a man who could literally give me a run for my money in any modeling contract. As hot as the image was, it burned like jealousy. “Are you trying to win this bet by making me lose my erection?”

When Kenji’s fingers smoothed their way higher on my thighs and realized I wasn’t wearing anything under the kilt, his eyes heated. “You dirty whore,” he said, the edge of his lips curving up, most likely against his will. “What the hell were you doing hanging out alone in only a kilt?”

I tried not to let the sexy sight of him on his knees for me go to my head. Which worked for all of two seconds before he brushed his fingers against my sac. “Job,” I answered on a gasp. “Fuck.”

Great. Now I was down to single syllables. 

His lips curved up even more. “Shall we change the bet to thirty seconds?”

“It’s already been ten minutes,” I said, struggling for breath. “Boring as fuck.”

The sound of his low chuckle made my sac tighten. Kenji’s eyes moved from mine to the job in front of him. He flicked up the fabric, exposing my raging boner, complete with a bead of precum on the tip.

He made a knowing sound in his throat. “Bodies don’t lie, Landry. And yours wants me to suck your cock.”

My stomach tightened as I nearly came at the sound of his words. “N-not accurate,” I choked out. “Wants anyone to suck it.”

It was a lie. There was no one else on Earth who would have gotten me this hard this fast tonight. No one else who could have me silently chanting embarrassing pleas in my head.

Kenji tilted his head and pursed his lips. “You want me to go? Send in the first sucker I find on the street?”

“Suck my cock.”

And that’s when I saw his first tell.

Kenji’s lips fell open, and the tip of his tongue came out to run along the bottom one. His cheeks remained flushed, and his chest heaved with his own anticipation.

“You want it,” I whispered, trying to hide my surprise. “Take it.”

For the first time in all the years we’d known each other, he didn’t snap back. Instead, he leaned forward and put his beautiful mouth on me. His tongue wrapped around the head of my cock and bathed it in wet warmth before taking my shaft into his mouth.

I cried out and leaned my head back, dragging in a shaky breath as my head sparkled with staticky light. The heat of his mouth, the slick slide of his tongue and pull of his throat set all of my alarm bells clanging and screaming.

My nails scraped across the fabric of the chair arms as I fought with myself not to reach for his head and tangle my fingers in his hair.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, not giving a single shit how desperate I suddenly sounded. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

He held the base of my shaft with one hand and cradled my balls with the other. It was clear the man knew what he was doing because I was on the knife’s edge of release within seconds.

“Kenji, fuck!”

He worked my cock and balls with the same dogged determination he demonstrated at work. If I’d been in my right mind, maybe I would have been offended by that. But there was no way to feel anything other than sheer bliss with his mouth and hands on me.

Kenji Toma was on his knees for me. I didn’t care that it was done out of spite and anger. I didn’t care that he thought I was a lazy-ass, good-for-nothing playboy. All I cared about was coming at his touch.

The minute he grazed my hole with a fingertip, I was gone. The staticky fireworks in my head shot off like New Year’s on steroids as my release slammed into me.

It took me a minute to realize Kenji had released my nuts to jam a finger on my phone screen.

I stared at him as he pulled off my cock and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His hair was even messier now. Sexy strands framed his face and brushed his neck. His cheeks, nose, and chin were red, and his eyes were glazed but also victoriously smug.

“Fifty-seven seconds,” he said, his voice hoarse from the quick and dirty blowjob. “Probably some kind of world record.”

He stood up and stretched his neck back and forth before squaring his shoulders. “One month, no random hookups.”

And then he turned and walked toward the front door of the penthouse.

I stared after him in shock, silently admitting a month without a random hookup would be easy. After that experience, being with any other man would be a significant disappointment.

“You never said no hookups with you,” I called after him, only half-joking.

“In your fucking dreams, Landry. That was a one-time-only deal.”

Kenji

In my defense, I’d been going through an unnaturally long dry spell. A Saharan spell of astronomical proportions. And Landry Davis had been wearing a motherfucking kilt.

I closed my eyes and tried to take a centering breath.

It had been three weeks since I’d sucked Landry off. Three weeks of remembering the weight of his cock on my tongue, the clean, woodsy scent of his skin in my nose, and the sound of his choked whimper in my ears.

Three weeks of not having to deal with arranging last-minute NDAs for his slutty hookups.

Three weeks of wondering how he was managing without his slutty hookups.

“Get your fucking ass off my desk,” I growled. Centering breaths were useless.

Landry sighed and set the glass jar of gummy bears back down on my desk. “The only other chair in here is covered in file folders.”

“They’re covered in something called discovery,” I corrected. “Evidence. In a criminal case. In which you are one of the defendants.”

He flicked his hand dismissively at the stack of information the attorney had sent over, along with a strident request for Landry and Zane to plea to a lesser charge. “Nobody claimed we didn’t do it.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Can you not say anything more about this case out loud, please? To me or anyone.”

“You make it sound like we’re serial killers. It was a drunk and disorderly.”

“It was more than that. I’m not going to repeat a list of the charges again. You’re going to do exactly what the attorney says, do you understand?”

Landry’s lips pursed as he considered my command. “What do I get if I agree to stop fighting for an acquittal?”

“You’re not getting an acquittal because you’re not going to trial.”

He twisted a strand of hair around one finger. “I’m too pretty to be found guilty by a jury of my peers. And so is Zane, for that matter. I think we should risk it.”

We both knew he was doing this on purpose to piss me off, but we also both knew it was working.

“You’re not as pretty as you think,” I muttered, swiveling in my chair to face my laptop in hopes of finding a serious enough task to take me away from paying any more attention to Landry Davis. “Now, go away.”

I tried to ignore the heart jackrabbiting in my chest, but it only got worse when he stood up and wandered around behind me, leaning over to peer at my laptop screen. His hair brushed the side of my face as he leaned in closer. There was no point in breathing when he was this close. I would only inhale his regrettably intoxicating scent and regret it.

Better to just… not breathe.

“You don’t think I’m pretty, Kenji?” he murmured in a low, sultry voice that made my skin feel suddenly one size too small.

“Pfft.”

Now I had even less oxygen to work with.

“Pft,” I repeated with the last of it, and now I couldn’t breathe.

Thankfully, he stepped away and meandered back to the other side of my desk. I surreptitiously sucked in a breath as nondramatically as possible.

“I need you to book me in for STD testing,” he said, stealing my breath back again.

“You what?” My head spun. “You were just tested. I mean, right before… just before… a few days before…”

“Yes. And then, you and I—”

“Zzzt!” I snapped, holding up a hand.

He grinned. “And then I hooked up with a completely random man at my apartment one night while I was wearing a kilt,” he continued. “And now I need to be tested again. For all I know, he was carrying something. Told me about hooking up in the office, for god’s sake.”

“He was not carrying something,” I hissed, even though I knew he was only saying that to get under my skin.

Landry shrugged, his shoulder lifting up the blond hair on one side and letting it fall again in wavy perfection. “Be that as it may, please book me in. According to my calendar, I’m free to fuck again on Sunday. So I’m making plans. Want to make sure I have a clean bill of health for all the trouble I’m going to get into.” He rubbed his hands together. Maniacally.

“The clinic is closed for renovations,” I said, typing nonsense on my keyboard.

He scrunched his face. “Find another location. Those places are a dime a dozen.”

I shook my head. “Too expensive and unpredictable. I’ll book you in for their first opening, just… just be aware it’s probably going to be a little while. You know how renovations go.”

Did I sound as pathetic as I felt? Surely not.

And why did I care? Yes, I was forced to deal with chasing down nondisclosure agreements and doing a basic background check on his hookups, but I was used to it at this point. So what the hell was my problem?

It was the principle of the matter. He shouldn’t be…

I sighed. The man was free to have as much sex with as many people as he wanted. I wasn’t one to actually slut-shame. And if it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have tweaked me this badly.

But it was Landry. And he never took anything seriously.

And had I mentioned the Sahara? One tiny sip hadn’t been enough to quench an entire desert.

Landry sniffed. “Okay, but then I’m going to have to call someone who’s already on my approved list.”

“Not possible,” I insisted. “We already went over this. I’ll find you a testing place, just… hold your fucking libido in check until I do, alright? Jesus. Now, get the hell out of here.”

What I needed was someone else. Someone with a magical dick who could help me out of my damp spell.

I picked up the phone to call Ravi in legal. While I’d never actually hooked up with him—mostly because he was straight—Ravi had mentioned wanting to set me up with his brother, who I’d met in passing at a happy hour after work one night a couple of months back.

It didn’t take long to arrange the date. Drinks after work on Friday was perfect. If the conversation was good, we could try for dinner. If it wasn’t, hopefully, we could go straight to dessert. Either way, I needed to get Landry out of my head and the taste of him out of my mouth.

***

“Am I moving too fast?” Nik asked with a frown of confusion. “Because if you’re not into this, I—”

“No, no,” I assured him, shifting my weight against the back of the sofa, where my ass was propped. Nik’s arms bracketed me, bringing with them the scent of a vanilla-based cologne I didn’t love. It was fine. It just wasn’t…

“Kenji, open the fucking door,” Landry’s angry voice called through the door to my apartment as his fist banged on the wood. “I went to that clinic you sent me to, and it was a noodle restaurant, for fuck’s sake.”

Nik jumped back and turned toward the door. “Who’s that?”

“Miscreant,” I gritted out. “Asshole, pain in my ass.”

“Should we call the police?” Nik asked, already inching to the side in case the raging monster banging on the door managed to gain entry.

“No, it’s fine. But you should probably go. Sorry.” I shot him a weak smile, secretly grateful to have a moment to reassess whether I’d been planning to hook up with him because I wanted it or simply to spite Landry.

I unlocked the door and yanked it open so quickly Landry fell forward into the apartment. As soon as he saw I wasn’t alone, he seemed to grow in height and turn low-key menacing. Which was impressive for someone as goofy as Landry. 

“Who are you?” he growled. “And why do you look like one of my lawyers?”

Nik ignored him and stepped over to me, pressing a long kiss next to my mouth before murmuring his hope to get together again soon.

As soon as he was gone and the apartment door was closed, I found myself crowded against the back of the sofa again, only this time, it was Landry’s arms bracketing me and his clean, woodsy scent wafting over me. “Dammit, Kenji, you don’t get to fuck if I don’t get to fuck.”

I tried standing up straight, but he was too close. “If I want to be fucked in my own apartment on a Friday night, that’s my fucking prerogative.”

Landry looked angry enough to spit nails. “Yeah? Do you want to be fucked tonight, Kenji? Huh? Because it looks like your best chance just walked out the door.”

I looked at him with as much derision as I could muster. “Please. My best chance is still standing right here, and we both know it. All I would have to do is crook my finger, and you’d—”

Landry spun me around and pushed me over the back of the sofa, leaning against my ass and back like a heavy blanket. His warm lips brushed against my ear, and his strong hands held my wrists gently but firmly in front of me. “I’d do this?” he purred.

The hard ridge of his cock pressed into the seam of my suit pants as he began to tease me with all of the things he could do to me if only I wanted him to.

“You think that man would hit just the right spot inside of you, hmm? Think he’d know that deep down, you want someone to take charge of you just a little bit until you’re soft and boneless, spent and breathless in a fucked-out puddle of your own cum?”

My breathing was jagged and harsh, probably only because of the awkward position. The back of the sofa dug into my rib cage, and he was heavy as fuck.

So why does it feel so fucking good?

“Lan…” My voice came out thready and high. I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. 

“I have an idea,” he said softly, his voice like tempting treacle, slow and sweet. “Let me have you, Kenji. Tell me I can strip you down and fuck you just to show you I’m right. You go be with whatever-the-fuck his name is tomorrow, fine. But then, at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”

“Hardly,” I managed to eke out. “Cocky much?”

“Mmhm,” he chuckled. “Cocky ’cause I’m right. And the only way you’ll know is if you let me in.”

He moved my wrists until both were in one of his large hands, and then he moved his free hand to the top button of my shirt. 

But he didn’t unbutton it.

The air around us was thick and expectant, warm with summer heat and more sexual tension than my little apartment had ever witnessed.

“You’ll embarrass yourself,” I said, trying to talk tougher than I was. Because both of us already knew I was already too far gone to say no. My ass had already pushed back against his cock. My throat had already made humiliating noises of surrender.

My pulse was already thready and obvious under the skin of my neck where his nose was pressed.

“Landry,” I breathed.

“Yes, baby?”

I squeezed my eyes closed and gritted my teeth against the provoking endearment. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right,” he said, the knowing smile evident in his voice. “Of course not.”

“And we aren’t going to kiss,” I added out of utter desperation to maintain some semblance of control. “On the mouth.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said with a laugh that only made my dick feel harder and my ass feel emptier. “Someone’s watched Pretty Woman one too many times.”

Julia Roberts had been onto something, though. Except… well, surely both Vivian Ward and I wouldn’t wind up married to beautiful, rich men. That shit only happened in the movies.

“Promise me.”

He hesitated. “Only if you’ll promise to come to me if you want a quick fuck instead of whatever the fuck eHarmony shit this was tonight.”

“Fine,” I gritted out.

“Say the words, Kenji. Say, ‘I promise.’”

“Fine,” I repeated, eager for the talking part of the evening to end.

He spun me back around until I was pressed against his front with one of his arms banded around my back, holding me closely. His free hand grasped my chin. “Say the words.”

It was so tempting. So tempting to do whatever he said and let him take complete control.

Instead, I shoved him off me and stepped away, turning toward my bedroom. Just before reaching the doorway, I turned back to him.

And crooked my finger.