by Kylie Parker
He smiles, “I swear, if I have sauce on my face and you aren't telling me, I will spank you.”
I laugh more, “I promise, there is no sauce on your face.” I look around before lowering my voice, “but will you still spank me?”
I can see the heat flood his eyes and his jaw clenches, “Alexa,” he growls low. “You're killing me here.”
I give him a coy smile, “Does the thought of spanking me turn you on, Dylan? Would I be wearing my panties or would I be bare?”
I don't know what has come over me. I suddenly feel as if I am poking a giant bear with a really short stick. I watch as his shoulders heave with the deep breath he pulls in. I know he is as hard as a rock under this table. I want to touch him, feel how he responds to me. My arms aren't that long. Instead, I kick off my heel and run by bare foot up his leg and use my toes to caress his straining cock.
“Alexa,” he grunts as I apply a little pressure before moving my foot down and back up.
“You didn't answer me,” I say, suddenly feeling very daring.
“Bare. It would be bare.”
I smile, lick my lips and put my foot back down and slide it into my shoe.
He sits there looking at me. I can practically feel his hands running over my body. It feels good to have the upper hand. The man has been toying with me since the very moment I laid eyes on him. I want him to know what it feels like to be the one out of control with lust.
“Your dinner's getting cold,” I say.
“You're going to pay for that,” he manages to say. “You are playing with fire, Alexa. Expect to be burned.”
I can't wait.
“I think I'm done,” I say, putting the napkin over my plate. I want to get him on that plane or home or in the car.
He looks at me, smirks, “I'm not. I'll be sitting here for a bit, enjoying my meal.”
I giggle, he may be enjoying his meal, but I know he is sitting there because if he stands up, Old Man Marty is going to get an eyeful.
“Sure, sweetie, I'll wait,” I say in a syrupy voice.
I am growing impatient. I want to go. I know he is taking his sweet time on purpose.
After what feels like hours, he finally looks at me, “Ready?”
“Yes!”
He gives me a very dangerous smile. I know what's coming and my body suddenly feels as if there are a million tiny, delicious needles poking me. I want his hands on my body. I want him to kiss that spot on my neck. Hell, I want him to run his tongue over every inch of my body.
I practically run for the car. When we arrive at the private airport, I bound up the stairs, take my seat and wait. It is then I realize the seating area is rather small. I look out the window and can see Dylan talking on his phone. I decide to do a little exploring. Towards the back of the plane I can see a small door. I carefully open it and damn near squeal with glee. There is a large bed.
I look back, trying to determine how brave I am feeling. Is it bravery or a really strong desire to get laid? I don't know, but both are telling me to get naked and get in that bed and wait.
With my decision made, I quickly tell the attendant I will be taking a nap and please do not disturb me. She looks at me and I know she knows exactly what I am up to, but I don't care. I want to join the mile high club—even if it is on a private jet and not in some itty bitty latrine on a commercial flight.
I quickly strip and jump under the covers. Of course, there are satin sheets on the bed. My body practically glides in. The cold satin feels absolutely divine against every inch of my naked skin. I need to get some of these sheets.
I hear Dylan's voice. My body reacts in ways I never knew were possible. My heart starts to beat faster. He's coming. The door opens, he gives me a quick look before shutting it. My heart goes from fast to nothing. It literally stops. What the hell just happened?
I don't have to think long before the door opens again, he steps in, shuts and locks it. Just like that, it is all systems go. I throw the blanket off and expose my naked body to him. The cabin lights dim a bit, which I am secretly very thankful for. Low light makes everyone look a little better.
He doesn't move closer. Instead, he looks. His slow perusal of everything I am offering leaves me panting. If he doesn't touch me I am going to pounce on him.
“Alexa,” he says in that all business tone, making me suddenly feel cold and very exposed. I grab the sheet and toss it over my body. I feel like a complete idiot. “No. Take it off.”
I don't want to, but I do it anyway. I wait, laying completely nude in his bed while he stands, fully clothed several feet away.
“Are you coming?” I ask, thinking he needs a little guidance here or something.
He shakes his head, “No.”
“What?” I mumble in disbelief.
“I want you, but not here. Not like this.”
“Um, I'm okay with here, just like this,” I shoot back. I can't believe I am begging this man to fuck me.
“No. I was serious, Alexa. I want to do this right. I want to build a relationship with you,” he takes a step closer. His body defies his words. I can see his raging hard-on through those dark pants. He wants me. I can convince him.
I run a hand over my left breast, stop to tweak the nipple before running it down my stomach, stopping just above the pubic bone. I can see a very fine sheen of sweat across his brow. Oh yeah, I'm getting to him.
“Keep going,” he demands.
I comply. Slowly moving my hand between my legs.
“Spread your legs.”
I hesitate. Teasing was one thing, this is a whole new level.
“Now.”
I do as he says. The cool air in the room brushes over me, causing an involuntarily shudder and I arch my back. My hand moves over my core, as if to protect the most vulnerable part of my body. I watch as he watches me. I feel a little braver. My other hand moves to my breast, rubbing small circles, mimicking my other hand's motions.
“That's it, Alexa. Push a finger in. Feel how wet you are.”
I consider telling him to put his own finger in, but the way he says it makes me want to do it. My finger glides in, shocking me with the mixed feelings. My brain is flooded with pleasure from every angle. My back arches higher and my legs drop open even more.
I don't need him to tell me what to do next. My body knows what I need to find the release he is denying me. I begin moving my finger in circles, in and out, slowly building up to that point that will lead me to the stars.
“Stop.”
I hear the word, but I ignore it. It doesn't sound right. He wouldn't want me to stop.
“Stop. Now.”
I immediately stop moving, but leave my finger inside me. I squeeze my eyes close, trying to climb that cliff on my own. It is so close. I want it. I need it.
My eyes pop open when I feel him yank my hand away from my pussy. I cry out at the loss.
“Get dressed. I'm not leaving until you do,” he says, stepping away from the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Dylan,” I plead. “You have to let me finish.”
His gaze is hot, serious, “No. That's my job, but I won't do it here.”
I groan, rolling my head back and forth on the sheets. My body feels as if it is a bow. I only need one little pluck and I can reach orgasm. I can feel it.
“Get dressed,” he demands again.
The mood has been killed, but my body is still clinging to hope. I get up on my knees and crawl to the edge where he is standing. I reach out grab his hips and pull him close to my mouth. He is still hard.
“We can both get what we want,” I say softly.
He doesn't say a word, but he doesn't step away. I take that as my cue and quickly unfasten his belt, before undoing the button and pulling the zipper down. I reach in and grab onto the piece of him I am so desperate to have.
I manage to get a quick lick in before he pushes me back on the bed. My body goes into high alert, knowing it is finally going to get what it has b
een searching for. I lay there, sprawled out naked and waiting.
Instead of plunging into me, he buttons his pants, picks my clothes off the floor and tosses them at me, “Not here. Not yet. It will be on my terms.”
I know it's over now. He isn't going to give in. I crawl off the bed and yank my panties on before violently pulling up my skirt. He watches the whole scene.
When I am fully dressed, I look up at him with defiance. Before I know what he is doing, he is grabbing me, kissing me with such force I am slammed into the wall. His mouth grinds into my own. I can't do anything but accept the assault on my lips, with his hard body pressing into mine. He grinds his hips into my own, nearly bringing me to that release I am so desperate for, but pulls back at the worst moment possible.
“You will be mine, Alexa. When I take you, you will be mine.”
The words shake me to my core. His. I will be his. The thought terrifies me and thrills me at the same time. It is then I realize I want to be his. I want to be the girl he comes home to. I want to be the one he whisks away on his private jet.
I have to snap myself out of this. It's a lust haze. That's all. I am not the kind of girl a man like Dylan Hawke falls in love with. This isn't a fairytale. This is a guy who likes sex and for now, he likes sex with me.
I'll take it. I'll ride out the fantasy and when it's over, I'll go back to my old, boring life.
23
Dylan
I can't sleep. Of course, I can't. Alexa's little show keeps replaying in my head. I had front row seats to one of the most erotic displays in the world. I am amazed I managed to keep my hands off of her. I have to. I have to prove to her I want more than her body and really hot sex. Although, the sex is going to be what keeps me coming home every night once I get her to marry me.
I was hesitant at the idea of marrying a woman and being expected to stay with only that one woman, but when it comes to Alexa, I don't see that as a problem. I only want her. I feel as if there is so much more there that I have yet to discover.
I look at the clock. It is just after two in the morning. I consider getting up to work. I need to see how the company is doing and whether or not the Larsens sold out, yet. Blake is pulling out all the stops to slow the deal down until I can get my shit together.
After another thirty minutes, I give up and head to the office. I open my email to discover the PR dude has sent me a list of things I need to do. I look at the date on the calendar to make sure I am reading it correctly, he has me attending a ribbon cutting ceremony today for a clinic I apparently gave money to. He requests Alexa be there, but in the wings. We are gradually bringing her into the limelight with me, but the big debut will be at the gala, which reminds me, I still need to tell her about that.
I have three days to get the woman to agree to be my wife. How hard can it be, right? I scoff. What a joke. No sane woman, especially a woman as intelligent as Alexa would ever go for something so ridiculous. I already expressed my concerns to Blake who chalked it up to cold feet.
I close the laptop, sitting in the dark, staring at nothing. That little niggle of guilt creeps up. Using Alexa to get ahead isn't right, but I quickly remind myself she will gain too. If worse comes to worse and she doesn't fall head over heels in love with me in the next 72 hours, I will have to resort to bargaining, pleading or outright cash.
I get an idea, open the laptop and shoot off a couple of emails. As soon as we are done with the ribbon cutting ceremony, we will be boarding the jet. I can't wait to see her face when she finds out what I have planned.
The ribbon cutting ceremony was perfectly boring—as expected. Alexa had agreed to come along, not realizing how important her presence truly was. Nathan, my PR guy, made sure she was positioned behind me and a little to the left. The photographers would see her in my shadow, supporting me like a dutiful wife. She dressed the part of a confident woman, supporting her very successful man. She smiled, shook hands and chatted with the various heads of departments and other big shots.
Nathan informed me it was a huge success and by tomorrow, the tides would be turning. They better be or he knows he will be looking for another high profile client to fix.
“Are you ready?” I whisper in Alexa's ear.
She looks confused, “Ready?”
I give her my most charming smile, “I have a surprise for you.”
Her face lights up, “Hmm, I think I could be okay with a surprise.”
“Let's go,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd of people watching us. They are far too polite to point and stare. Instead, they smile at us. I know they will be talking about us the second we are out of earshot, which is exactly the plan.
As we board the jet, I see her look towards the back of the plane. She blushes at the memory of last night.
“Not yet,” I whisper in her ear. “Soon, Alexa.”
I watch her shoulders twitch and I know my words have hit home. She is still primed from last night. I know she didn't take care of her needs, alone in her room. I forbade it. That orgasm is mine to take and she won't deny me.
Denying myself the pleasure of her body is difficult, but I want her begging me to take her. I want her so desperate she will agree to anything I ask of her, including marriage. The clock is ticking.
“Want to tell me where we are going?” she asks settling into her seat.
“Nope.”
She rolls her eyes, “I do need to work at some point today.”
“No you don't. I'm your boss and today is a paid vacation day. So is tomorrow.”
She scowls at me, “Dylan, don't you have to work?”
I shrug, “I own the company. I work when I want to. I was up early this morning and took care of the things that needed my attention. I have Blake and a whole slew of other people to do the rest.”
“Why weren't there any paparazzi hounding us at the ribbon cutting?”
“Blake, Nathan and a very effective security team. The press allowed to photograph the event were given strict orders to keep their mouths shut. I was there for charity, not to talk about my personal life.”
She nods, “Thank God. I think it seems to be dying down a bit, don't you? I mean, Jessica says the stories have all but faded. I'm no longer trending on Twitter.”
I nod. She doesn't need to know that tomorrow she will be trending again, “Good. I didn't think it would last long. It never does.”
“I can't believe you deal with this all the time. How stressful for you,” she says touching my thigh.
Her small show of affection does something weird to me. Her touch is gentle, caring, as if she wants to make me feel better. I have had plenty of women touch me, but not like this. I take a moment to analyze the feeling and realize I like it—a lot. I have avoided any kind of actual relationship, but this woman is making me rethink my stance. I could get used to having a beautiful woman in my corner. Blake is alright and Mrs. Daniels is very sweet, but Alexa, it's just different.
We chat the entire flight. Her telling me a little more about her past jobs. The woman is a workhorse. I marvel at her dedication. She has not had it easy, but she doesn't let that stop her. She doesn't use it as an excuse to fail, but as the driving force to help her achieve her goals.
When the plane starts to descend, I am shocked at how fast the time has gone by. I had been so wrapped up in her life story, time literally flew by.
“Okay, where are we?” she asks, looking out the small window.
“We are going to my ranch,” I say with pride. I've only been to the property a few times, but I know it is stunning.
“Your ranch?” she says with disbelief. “Why do you own a ranch? Are there like cows and horses out here?”
I laugh, “I don't actually know. I mean, I know there are a few horses, I pay a guy to take care of them, but I don't think there are any cows.”
She shakes her head, “Only a billionaire would not know whether or not he owned a cattle ranch.”
I shrug, “This p
lace came up for sale a few years back. Every little boy dreams of being a cowboy, so I bought it. You never know, I may leave the city and head up here to do whatever it is one does on a ranch.”
“I think the fact you don't know what to do pretty much eliminates the ranch as a retirement option,” she said, holding back a laugh. “How big is this ranch?”
“A couple thousand acres.”
Her eyes widen, “What? What the hell are you doing with that much land?”
“I liked the house,” I say sheepishly. “And the privacy is very nice. No one is getting to me out here.”
“I can't wait to see this house,” she says, climbing into the waiting truck, only raising an eyebrow at the fact it was a truck and not a town car waiting to take us to the house.
When we pull into the first gate, I know she is impressed. We pass through another gate and then cross a cattle guard.
“Hmm, maybe I do have cattle,” I say with a laugh.
The driver, a big guy wearing a cowboy hat, t-shirt, worn jeans and well-used boots shakes his head, “No, you don't. That's left behind from the old owner.”
“Good to know,” I say.
I catch her rolling her eyes.
When we finally pull up to the log home, I hear her gasp, “Oh my.”
I knew this would be what impressed her, “I told you the house was impressive.”
She stares in awe at the wall of windows that cover the front of the home. It looks rustic, but inside it was luxurious. Every amenity possible had been added without destroying the authenticity of the log interior.
“Come on, wait until you see inside.”
She stands in the center of the foyer, looking up at the massive ceilings with exposed wood beams. Her eyes drink it all in before turning to stare out the windows that overlook green fields backed up to the forest.
“Let's go upstairs, I want to show you the view from there.”
I grab her hand and lead her up the stairs that provide an escalating view of the landscape. When we reach the top, she clasps a hand over her heart, staring at the lake in the distance.