Take Me Completely (Cockpit Series Book 4)

by C. Lesbirel

  He lets out a soft chuckle, his entire face lighting up, and his eyes shine when they meet with mine again.

  “No. I mean, I’ll take some booty if you're offering, but I was just trying to do the decent thing.”

  “Sorry, it’s been one of those days.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to apologize to him, but I do.

  “Are you gonna shoot that?” he asks, his eyes dropping to the freshly poured whiskey on the bar.

  I toss the shot back in one gulp and grin when he does the same. Something about his presence is so relaxed and chilled that it calms my anxious energy. He does nothing about the fact that he’s completely invading my personal space and neither do I.

  “Same again?”

  2

  Sullivan

  What the hell is a pretty little thing like her doing in a nightclub on her own? London isn’t exactly rough, but even so, something’s got to be up. She’s dressed in killer heels with long legs exposed by the sequins mini dress she’s hiding underneath the oversize hoodie that doesn’t look like it belongs to her.

  And shooting whiskey? I’ve never seen a chick knock a shot back the way she just did; it’s oddly an unexpected turn on.

  The way she tips her head back and swallows hard sets the nerve endings in my cock to sizzle mode. Add that to when she looks at me with her huge hazel come-to-bed-eyes, and I am instinctively drawn to her. Although, my reaction towards her is not really unusual for me.

  She’s petite, stunningly beautiful and unashamedly flirting with those long fake lashes she’s fluttering.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, why not?” I shrug.

  “I shouldn’t really. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I don’t drink much. To be honest, I’m a bit of a wreck. I should probably just go.”

  “Is that what you want to do?”

  “What I want is irrelevant, believe me on that one.” She rolls her eyes and sucks in her huge pouty lips.

  “If you want to stay here and have a drink, go for it. I will personally commit to being your bodyguard during the time it takes you to do another shot. It doesn’t look like it will take too long. If anyone tries to stop you, they’ll have to go through me.”

  She arches a brow, one hand falling to her hip, and a soft giggle leaves her lips. “And why would you do that?”

  “Because you're seriously hot and honestly, you look like you really need another drink.”

  “Gee thanks, you have a real way with words.”

  “I like to think so.” I grin as she shakes her head, but I don’t miss the small smile that remains on her beautiful face.

  I read that as an invitation to order another round of drinks, and she doesn’t waste any time in taking a sip of hers.

  “You know what I hate?” she asks as she slams the empty glass back down on the bar.

  “What?”

  “People telling me what to fucking do.”

  “Amen to that.” We both take a sip of our drinks, and I can tell she’s a little tipsy from the way she keeps shifting her weight from foot to foot as though she’s struggling to stay upright.

  “Wanna know what I hate?”

  She narrows her eyes in response.

  “Expectations.”

  “Yes!” She holds out a flat palm for me to high five, which I do. Her hands are tiny compared to my own, and I wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around my cock. “They’re the worst.” She pops her shoulders, her perfect brows knitting together.

  “Here’s to unbelievable expectations.” I raise my glass.

  We take another sip of our drinks, and I watch her nose wrinkle slightly as the liquid burns down her throat. Damn, she’s gorgeous. I can’t keep from smiling at this fiery little lady in a sequins dress and hoodie.

  She’s standing so close that the scent of orange and vanilla on her hair is invading my nostrils. I have to know more. I need to find out why she’s drinking alone when she looks like the sixth Kardashian sister.

  “Tell me something else you hate,” I ask her, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

  “Politics.”

  “Nah, that’s cheating. It’s too impersonal. Tell me something that really gets under your skin.”

  “Okay.” She bites down hard on her bottom lip, mulling it over. “Fake ass people.”

  “Hate them,” I agree.

  “Right? I mean, how hard is it to just say what you mean, and mean…”

  “What you fucking say,” I finish for her. “Agreed. But there has to be fake ass people because no one can handle honesty anymore.”

  “That is so not true,” she protests.

  “How so?”

  “I can one hundred percent handle honesty. In fact, I damn well live for it.”

  “You say that, but honesty can cause chaos.”

  “I like a little chaos.” She shrugs, her pale hazel eyes glowing with a hint of amber.

  “I like you.”

  Her eyes fly open. “What?”

  “I like you. You said you're into honesty, so I’m just giving you some.”

  “You can’t just blurt things out like that. Why would you say that? You don’t even know me.”

  “I’m just being honest. What, you want me to lie?”

  She side-eyes to avoid eye contact and tucks a loose chocolate wave behind her ear.

  “Okay, you’re the ugliest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’m one million percent not thinking about how much I want to take you back to my hotel room and fuck you like my life depends on it.”

  “That’s what you're thinking?”

  I shrug a shoulder and take a casual sip of my drink while she bites down on her bottom lip and eyes me up and down.

  “Do you wanna do this?”

  “Yes.” I don’t hesitate for a second. I was only in London for a night before flying out to Italy. Spending it with her was a thousand times more appealing than spending it on my own.

  “Do you wanna get out of here, right now, and just…” She pauses as if she’s too shy to say the words out loud, but I’m guessing the whiskey takes over as she mouths the words, “Have sex?” not so discreetly.

  “Yep.” I grin at the admission, and so does she. Her eyes dance with a rebellious glint in them.

  “Then let’s do it.”

  “Really? Just like that?”

  “Why not. You’re a hot guy, I’m a hot girl.” I cut her off by placing my glass down on the bar and reach forward to grip her hips. My knee takes advantage of her slightly parted legs, slipping in between them with not so subtle intent.

  “What if you’re a terrible kisser?” I whisper in her ear, my body closing in on hers.

  “What if you have a tiny dick?” She retaliates, and I lean in to kiss her. But she turns her head away, glancing around as though she’s anxious about someone seeing.

  “Not here.”

  “Okay. I have a hotel room that’s not far.”

  “Let’s go.” She claps her hands together then grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit.

  Holy shit, tonight just got a whole lot better than I expected it to be.

  This chick is really eager for it, and I’m more than happy to oblige.

  3

  Hope

  I know country music isn’t as big in the UK, but even so, it’s weird to be out in a club where no one knows me. Back home in Tennessee, I could never wander off without security, or I’d be mobbed.

  With a quick check of my phone, I notice eight text messages and over twenty missed calls, all of which will be Simon looking for me.

  So, I press the power off button and shove it in the pocket of the hoodie.

  When the fresh air hits my face, a wave of fog clouds my thoughts, causing me to sway to the side and bump into the random hot guy who’s about to take me back to his hotel room.

  Oh damn, I must be more wasted than I thought. I’m typically not that girl. At least, not usually, but he is insanely good looking and so easy-go
ing that it’s caught me off guard.

  No one I know does easy going. No one, except my parents, and I’ve not seen them in so long.

  I cringe at the thought of them, imagining what my dad would be saying if he could see me right now.

  “Woah, watch it there. I got you,” hot guy says, catching me as I sway into him again while my shoulder bangs against his arm. “Maybe we should get you home?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’m not even drunk; it’s the shoes,” I argue.

  He pauses to glance down at my crystal encrusted, gold Louboutin’s and frowns before scooping me up in his arms.

  My body slides down his forearms, crashing into his chest where it’s warm and smells like a sweet fusion of whiskey, lime and general manliness.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Solving the problem.” He shrugs, striding forward with me in his arms. “I’m taking you for breakfast in the morning, by the way, since you’re light as a feather.”

  “See if you're still saying that in a few minutes when you can’t breathe.”

  “I could carry you for a week without breaking a sweat.”

  “Yeah? Are you a big, rugged man?”

  “Are you flirting with me? Because, you don’t need to. I’m already about to tear that ass up, but if you carry on batting those fake lashes at me, I won’t even make it back to the hotel.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  He looks down at me in his arms. For a split second my eyes meet his, and my mind goes blank as I bump against the darkest set of deep midnight blues.

  I take a deep inhale of breath as if needing to get some air to my lungs and remind myself I’m not dreaming, but before I get a chance to exhale, his lips steal my air. Hot lips burn against my own in a greedy, needy kiss that sets my whole body on fire.

  Every nerve tingles, every hair on my arms stands to attention as his mouth melts into mine, fueling me alive.

  Whatever buzz I got from being on stage, the rush of accepting a Grammy, going home for the first time in a year, none of it matched this moment.

  His kiss terrified me in all the best ways, and my lips tremble long after he pulls away and whispers, “Where the fuck have you been all my life.”

  My only reply is a light chuckle, but he doesn’t laugh along with me, he just keeps pacing forward with his head down. A man on a one-way mission as I lay passive in his arms ready for more of his kisses. Needing them. Needing to feel something after realizing I’ve been numb and barely present for far too long.

  “This is it,” he growls out as we move towards The Ritz. Oh shit! I immediately bury my head into his chest.

  “What’s up?”

  “Just hide me.” I panic.

  “Okay. I got you.” If this got out the paps would have a field day. My fans would freak the hell out, too. They’ve become fiercely protective of me over the years, one of the reasons my previous relationships hadn’t worked out.

  Anytime I have ever met a guy it was plastered across the papers, and everyone suddenly had an opinion about him or needed to dig for facts to prove how he wasn’t good enough for me.

  When we are inside, he doesn’t put me down, as he carries me through the reception area where the concierge greets us.

  “Good evening, Mr. Parker.”

  “Evening,” he replies as though he’s not holding a Platinum Award winning country music star in his arms and is in fact on his way to a business meeting or something.

  They do say confidence is sexy. Whoever ‘they’ are, I have to agree because as soon as the elevator door closes, his lips close on mine, and I welcome his sweet kiss without a second thought.

  This time his kiss is slow, less crazed and more intentional. Every swipe of his tongue is a silent promise of what’s to come and causes a pool of damp to form in my panties.

  I try to play it cool like he does, matching his movements with my own, but the sexy moan I let out when he bites down on my bottom lip is not so much cool, as desperate and frenzied.

  “Fucking hell,” he grunts out while struggling to open the door to his room with the key card.

  “You sure you don’t wanna put me down yet?”

  “I’m sure,” comes his impatient response. “Why?”

  “Because you are about to carry me over the threshold like we just got married.”

  His eyes grow wide while he pauses momentarily as the door pops open. Those beautiful blue eyes lock with mine and pulls me close.

  “If you were my wife, you wouldn’t be so desperate for the kinky fuckery that’s about to go down.”

  “I don’t know.” I roll my lips together. “Kinky fuckery is kind of my thing.”

  He squeezes my ass hard enough to make me yelp out loud, and no sooner than we step into the hotel room, I’m tossed onto the huge black velvet bed.

  I giggle as my head bounces off the pillow and my right foot works its way to the heel of my left. Just as I’m about to toe my shoe off, two hands grip my ankles, yanking my legs apart.

  My eyes demand answers from the guy who’s now standing between my legs with one of my feet on either side of his face. “I thought you liked kinky fuckery,” he growls.

  Holy shit. I’m so far out of my depth with this guy, and knowing how much I shouldn’t be doing this, and the fact that I shouldn’t even be here, is such a fucking turn on.

  Goodbye Hope Carson.

  Hello Vicky Vixen.

  4

  Sullivan

  Her pussy is perfectly aligned with my bulging cock. The only thing now that stands between us is a tiny pair of nude colored shorts and the denim of my jeans. All I’d have to do is unzip, push the flimsy material to one side, and I could be inside her in seconds. But that would be too easy. A body like hers deserves to be worshipped and adored, so I turn my head to the side and begin licking her ankle, slowly working my way down to her parting with my tongue. As I reach her upper thighs, she arches her back and tilts her hips, making her pussy ride my face.

  I hesitate for a second as my fingers linger at the edge of her panties. My twin sister’s voice annoyingly runs through my mind at the most inopportune time possible.

  “You really need to stop dicking around and settle down, Sully. All the good ones will be taken soon.”

  Slightly dramatic on the latter comment, but uncomfortably accurate with the first. I’ve been dicking around, as she calls it, for the best part of a decade. Usually, it doesn’t bother me, but ever since my brother proposed to his girlfriend at Christmas, it’s got me thinking that maybe she has a point.

  I take a glance back down at the girl in the golden dress with the huge hazel eyes that are fixed on mine as she anticipates my next move. Yeah, well, one more bit of fun never hurt anyone.

  With a quick yank at her ankles, I flip her over to her stomach, so her ass is raised in the air in all its glory.

  “What’s with the panties?” I had to ask, not that the rest of the pieces of her outfit match together, but these oversized granny panties would normally be a turn off. She only got away with them because her ass is so goddamn pert and peachy.

  She giggles at my reaction, raises from her elbows to her hands to look at me over her shoulder and sounds a little embarrassed when she replies, “I guess they are kind of a passion killer. They’re my stage briefs.”

  “Stage briefs?”

  “Yeah, so people can’t look up my skirt when I’m performing,” she explains.

  “You’re a performer?”

  “Singer,” she corrects me.

  “You sing?”

  “Now you want to get to know me?”

  “You’re right. Too much talking.”

  “Way too much,” she groans, causing me to smile as I regard her ass one more time before I make it mine.

  “For the record, I think they’re kind of sexy. I never fucked anybody in stage briefs before.” I shrug, rip them clean off her and toss them to the floor.

  As expected, a perfect clean Brazilian. I admire its
neatness while quickly fumbling with a condom packet and eventually manage to roll it down my length. With a decision made of what’s going to make her scream the most, I slide an arm under her waist, pulling her ass up towards me. She struggles to find her balance on her hands and drops to her forearms as I stroke the tip of my solid cock against her pussy.

  Each stroke causes her breath to falter. I struggle to maintain control as I dip into her a little more with every pass then pull out again until she’s groaning. The need to be inside her is almost taking over my penchant for kinky fuckery.

  Almost.

  As she attempts to grind back onto me wanting more, I slap her ass. Just a light tap at first to see what I can get away with. I grin when she yells out. It’s a good yell. It’s a holy shit I need you now kind of yell, and my palm twitches, demanding me to do it again, a little harder this time.

  Enough to leave a mark.

  I simultaneously thrust into her with a force I forgot I was capable of, but staring down at the red mark I put on that tight ass was a glaring reminder.

  She fights for control, trying to push back against me in sync with my thrusts. Her struggle to push herself up from her forearms to her hands just to get her sweet pussy that little bit higher so my cock fills her as much as possible amuses me.

  I love how alive she makes me feel. Every move of hers is desperate, frenzied and so fucking hot that she’s throwing me off my game. She’s not just matching me, this is a battle. A race between two strangers who need nothing from each other, except the rush only an intense orgasm can give, and we are almost there.

  My hands drop to her hips, taking full control of the pace as I quicken my thrusts until I’m fucking her so hard and fast all she can do is collapse face first into the pillow and accept defeat. On a loud moan, I take us over the edge. She screams out so loudly that I grin a little at the thought of our hotel room neighbors hearing the commotion.

  When we finish, she just about manages to turn onto her side and rolls her eyes at me, gasping for air before bursting into laughter. I let out a small chuckle along with her and step out of the jeans that are still around my ankles, so I can head to the bathroom to clean up.