“I believe you,” I tell him, and I mean it .
He tugs me by the hand, leaning out of the limo onto the white, sizzling tarmac. It’s a concrete driveway, only about half a mile wide. It collects the sun’s heat, radiating it back up in wiggly waves. Someone grabs my luggage and gently places it in the belly of the jet .
Ethan leads the way, heading for the staircase. A woman in a strangely vintage blue uniform smiles at us, and as we enter, I see the captain behind her, complete with dark blue hats and shirt, with a navy tie with a gold tie clip. They look like extras from a movie set .
“Good afternoon, Mr. Mercer,” they say in unison, smiling with that easy familiarity that indicates they’ve done this quite a bit .
“Afternoon. We’ll be fine back here, Nadine.” Ethan smiles back at the flight attendant as he guides me into the main cabin of the plane. He slides the burled wood pocket door closed behind her, cutting her off from us. Suddenly we’re alone in the jet, a remarkably comfortable space that’s almost like a bedroom, but with curves in unexpected places and those tiny, low windows .
“Is this your, um, jet ?”
He slides his arms around me, pulling me close and dipping his head down to nuzzle the seam of my neck and shoulder, taking my breath away .
“One of several,” he sighs distractedly, nudging the strap of my dress aside with his nose. His lips trace dozens of kisses along my collarbone, overwhelming my senses with wave after wave of chills .
“You’ll want to be seated for takeoff,” he informs me. My mouth is dry, so I just nod. If he keeps taking my breath away like this, I may never be able to speak again .
The interior has swivel chairs on one side with tables in between, then long sofas on the other. He guides me toward the sofa, his lips never far from my goosebumped skin .
“This is the smoothest possible ride,” he informs me. “You’re going to love this .”
I see the ground moving through the windows and hear the sound of the jet engines revving up. As we shoot across the tarmac, he pulls me into his arms, his hands sliding up the outside of my thighs toward my hips. I sit in front of him, between his open legs, gasping as the increased pressure pushes me back into his body .
His fingers drift between my thighs, nudging my legs open, probing the borders of my panties. I’m breathless and overwhelmed, almost falling into some kind of dream as his fingers slide against me, urging deeper and deeper, finding me slick and wanting already .
“Tell me you will always want me like this,” he whispers into my ear from behind as his electric fingers circle my clit, turning me on like a bright light .
“I will, I will,” I breathe, shuddering. I can’t imagine not wanting him .
I’m forced against Ethan as the plane rises into the air, leaving the ground below. I hear the landing gear thunking against the bottom of the cabin as I grind against his fingers, guiding my pulsing, swollen sex against him. He strums and teases me, drawing out a quick climax that I hadn’t even realized I’ve been holding back. My body bucks and shivers, melting against him, collapsing helplessly in his arms. It’s as though I’ve been holding my breath for my whole life, and here he is, finally letting it out of me .
Chapter 29
ETHAN
I guide the Maserati along winding roads, not going as fast as I want to, but still getting a good thrill out of it. Ava is rigid in her seat, white-knuckling the armrest. Apparently despite holding back, I’m going a little too fast for her anyway .
I point over the crest of redwoods, where they just begin to thin out. She follows the line of my arm .
“It’s just over there,” I tell her. “Do you see it ?”
“No, wait… oh, what? Is that your house ?”
“More of a cabin,” I murmur modestly .
“Oh, stop! It looks like a hotel !”
I don’t know why; it’s stupid to brag. But I like impressing her .
“It’s in the chalet style, built in the nineteen-thirties by some movie executive who wanted to be away from it all. Like seriously, far away from everything .”
“It’s gorgeous,” she breathes. I hear the interest in her voice, the anticipation. I have to remind myself that I’ve sworn to go slow with her, to take my time. It’s getting more difficult by the moment .
“Secluded too,” I note. “You can
walk around naked on the beach. You’d never even run into another person, most likely .”
“Seriously?” she asks. She sounds intrigued, I am happy to hear. Then she adds: “You wanted to be this out of the way? This isolated ?”