She rocked and rolled on his lap with a wicked giggle, reaching between them to stroke his cock through his pants. “So you’ve said. Now quit stalling and kill someone.”
“Damn. All right. Um, Black Widow has to die, I’m afraid. She’d kick my ass without breaking a sweat and my ego can’t have that.”
Paige laughed with real glee. “Continue.”
“I think I’d have to fuck Leia because she’d have some otherworldly shit going on and could probably teach me a few Tatooine sex moves.”
“I like the way you think, Mr. Banning. Always eager to learn new things.”
“Which leaves me Hermione to marry. For the same reason Captain America got the nod, she’d be the most loyal and would be a great mother. And that brain of hers? Shit, babe. All the smarty stuff turns me on.”
“Oh, great. So the most talented witch of her age is my rival? She could leviosa me without blinking an eye. How the hell can I compete with that?”
He knew one way. “Take your panties off, sweetheart. You won’t need them.”
Her face turned in the direction of the closed cockpit. “Really?”
“We’re forty minutes into a two-hour flight. I think we’re good.”
Like the queen of all she surveyed, his fiancée floated off his lap with fluid, ladylike grace and presented before him.
“As you wish, sir,” she snorted playfully. “Full cabin service is part of the charter experience.”
Twirling his finger in the air, Edward looked her up and down as if she was marked for sale and drawled, “You know the drill. Turn around.”
Paige laughed gleefully. “My ass is not on the menu, Mr. Banning.”
“I know. We’re saving that for our Ass-Gardian adventure.”
Her eyes flared, but she didn’t react to the taunt in any other way. Slowly turning, she glanced over her shoulder for good measure. “Just checking to make sure I have your full attention.”
He grabbed his dick and rubbed suggestively, making the bulge tenting his slacks more prominent. “Oh, Miss Turner, rest assured, you have my full, hard attention.”
Watching her peel the white lace off her ass and down her thighs, after a quick shimmy to dislodge them from between her legs, made his mouth go dry. Jesus god. Her ass was spectacular and those legs … they did him in every time. Keeping them straight, she bent over completely and made a show of stepping out of the flimsy underwear.
Before she straightened, Edward sat forward; flipping the skirt she wore up till her bare bottom was revealed, he stroked the soft skin of her haunches. Bent over as she was, legs slightly spread as she gripped her ankles and barely kept from wiggling her ass, he had the most fantastic view of her pussy.
“Face me,” he growled. Her expression when she turned around almost made his cock split the fabric of his pants to get to her. “Come closer.”
He watched her face as he put his hands on the insides of her legs and raised them till they disappeared beneath her skirt. She was breathing erratically, her pupils dilating, and if he was right, she was already dripping for him.
“Put your hands behind your back and keep them there.” His tone was rough and demanding. She didn’t waver or balk at his command.
The play of emotions on her face as he played with her wet folds ensured this was going to be quick and probably dirty as fuck. Aggressively fingering her while she tried to stay on her feet was incredibly hot. Neither of them had the luxury of time.
When he was sure she was close to coming, he gruffly demanded she get ready to be fucked, freed his fat erection from his clothes, and pointed at it. “Get on. No hands.”
She slid forward, straddling his thighs while he held his cock in position. He pulled the hem of her skirt up with his free hand so he could watch. And then she lowered onto his throbbing staff like a goddamn prima ballerina. Once he was deep inside her and she was swooning on his lap, he closed his eyes and groaned.
Paige immediately started to rise thinking he wanted her to ride him, but he stopped her in mid-motion. “No.” When she was back in position, he told her, “Just rock back and forth. Real slow, honey. Nothing sudden. Just feel my cock filling you up. When I tell you to, I want you to squeeze me as hard as you can. Understand?”
No answer was necessary. Not while she slowly undulated and drove them both quickly to the edge. When she stopped and bowed her head, gasping for breath, he knew she was fighting the orgasm her body craved.
“Look at me, Paige. I want to watch when you come.”
“Oh, Edward,” she groaned. “Don’t make me wait.”
Pfft. As if. It was a fucking miracle he was still in control. “It’s time, baby. When you rock forward, squeeze as hard as you can. Not for long. Just tighten and release.”
She did as he asked, keeping her eyes on his as she rocked on his cock and squeezed the fucking crap out of it with her crazy muscles. He’d had enough. So had she. Reaching under her skirt, he focused on her expression as his fingers moved unerringly to the swollen bundle of nerves wet with her desire.
Seriously. He fucking loved her clit. Loved looking at it, loved stroking it, and especially loved sucking on it. Rolling the plump nub between his fingers, he set a rhythm that countered her movements. Each time she stopped squeezing then he would rub and tweak.
She came so fast and so hard that all he could do was grunt in surprise and then follow her in to a mutual climax that was completely wrong for where they were.
When she eventually climbed from his lap, he gallantly helped her step back into her panties, leering like a sex fiend knowing the white lace was going to get pretty sticky. This was the best part—almost—of having a clean bill of health and being able to fuck without a barrier. He got off on coming inside her, filling that luscious pussy with his pleasure.
There wasn’t a lot of talking after that. Mostly, she snuggled against him and sighed from time to time. No words were required.
“Oh, my god!” Paige exclaimed under her breath as the elevator took them to their mountain view suite. “Did you notice how easy our arrival and check-in was? Edward, this place is fantastic, and I don’t even like modern art.”
If it wouldn’t make her look like a fool, she would have skipped down the hallway when the elevator doors opened. The unusual approach to an urban hotel without coming off like a dilapidated relic or an über exclusive and therefore mostly inaccessible luxe establishment floated her boat in a big way. It was not enough anymore to give the people what they wanted when you could give them something they didn’t know they needed. That was how you were successful. By understanding your product or brand and keeping it fresh.
The unique approach of the Art hotel reminded her of the idea she’d been stitching together for the last year or so. Something equally as unique but on a much, much smaller scale.
In their room, she inspected every inch, each light switch, and every window. The linens, towels, bath products. Even the brand of toilet paper while Edward watched silently amused.
“Where do you want to honeymoon?” he asked.
What? Honeymoon? Oh boy, that was right. Some sort of honeymoon would be in order after they married, and it was just like him to make it all about her. She thought for a moment, considered everything and anything that would make her betrothed happy, and came up with an answer.
Paige liked their serious conversations to unfold when she could touch him, so she went and threw her arms around his neck and pushed both hands into his hair.
“Have you ever seen those private bungalows that sit on the water in Bora Bora?” She felt the interest course through his body. Bingo, sweetie.
She knew a little bit about Bora Bora. Patsy had gone last year and raved nonstop. Taking from what she remembered, a laundry list of manly-man activities rambled from her mouth.
“The idea of honeymooning in tropical French Polynesia is romantic enough but the stuff we could do? Hashtag … are you kidding? There’s snorkeling, scuba, and jet skis. Kite surfin
g, paddleboards, and catamarans. We could get GoPro cameras and make a home movie! You could direct. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”
While all those things were cool, she’d hit the daily double with the GoPro idea. Tell Edward he could direct, and it didn’t matter that it was a home movie; he’d be in full storyboard mode before the hour was out.
“Does this ocean getaway include bikinis?”
She laughed and hugged him. “Sure, but don’t you think you’re a little, uh, manly … for a tiny bathing suit?”
“Ha-ha,” he teased. “You know damn well I meant you, and it was a dumb question, so don’t bother with another snappy comeback. If Bora Bora it is, babe, then you have to let me choose your swimwear. You’re to pack nothing. I’ll handle it. It’ll be a bridal gift from your husband on our honeymoon.”
“You’re entirely too nice, you know. How come you’re so good to me?”
“Easy, sweetheart. I have to be because where else am I gonna find a clever smartass with a deliciously foul mouth who won’t take my shit, thinks Gideon Shaw is a yawn, and drops to her knees every time I unbuckle my belt?”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, dashing from his arms in search of her luggage. “Speaking of belts, check this out.”
Pawing through the smallest of her bags—she had packed for a long road trip, after all—she pulled out a contraption that vaguely resembled a belt and waved it in his face.
“What the fuck is that?”
She understood his laughter. The piece of leather wasn’t long enough to fit a man’s waist and two leather loops and what looked like ties of some kind hung from it.
“This, my darling, is a wrist restraint.” She demonstrated how it worked. “Hands go through the loops, and the ties adjust the size. Then the loops move on the leather strap, so they’re close together or arm’s length apart.”
“What’s the hole for?”
He was certainly paying close attention. “Oh, that. Well, I think what you do with that is use it as a way to add another piece, like a strap or some rope. Think, headboard with slats.”
“Oh, you mean like tied to the bed? I’m intrigued, babe. Didn’t think you’d get into something like that. Not without a shit-ton of coaxing or the bribe of a year’s supply of ice cream.”
She laughed and laughed, as the leather strap went back into her bag. “Oh, sweetie. That’s not for me, silly. It’s you who’s gonna be leather bound."
His response surprised and excited. “I’ll let you tie my hands but not to the bed. That contraption could be fun as long as you wear a blindfold.”
The possibilities were intriguing.
“Think about it. Each of us gives up a sense. I can’t touch and you can’t see. The deprivation heightens the other senses.”
Oh, my word. This RV trip was going to be memorable and then some.
After a couple of days soaking up all that Denver had to offer, they picked up their rented RV, went through an exhausting training and safety check, and then took the keys and hit the road. They were now official members of The Good Sam Club.
He loved the freedom of driving when they wanted. Stopping for no reason and exploring every giant teacup or fossilized dinosaur along the way. His folks’ place wasn’t all that far from Denver from a mileage standpoint. They probably could have done it in a leisurely two days, but he insisted on taking the long, long way because camping with Paige was a complete hassle-free delight.
When they pulled into an RV park their first night out, his amazing fiancée whipped up a fantastic meal then rolled out the red carpet and invited the other RVers over for drinks. No one recognized him. The hair, beard, and the fact that the name Gideon never saw the light of day promised some anonymity. It was great just being two regular people out traveling the vast American highways and byways.
Tonight, they were in a campground near a small town that was having a cowboy festival. They were most definitely going. The minute she heard the word cowboy, her eyes lit with interest, she grinned like an idiot, waggled her eyebrows, gave him a wink, and nodded, murmuring, “Uh-huh. Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
His fiancée had a hard-on for cowboys. Oh man, being together on a remote location set for a movie about goddamn cowboys set in the eighteen hundreds was going to be interesting.
Getting the Ass-Gardian motorhome set up for the night was a breeze, and then they were off. Paige was not the chill and fucking relax type. Tell her there was something to explore, and you had better be ready with walking shoes.
The quaint mountain town was such a picture-perfect slice of Western Americana that his brain exploded taking in every detail. Especially dressed up as it was in a homegrown tradition that the Chamber of Commerce and tourism board must love. As they made their way along the main street, it quickly became apparent that Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, and Teddy Roosevelt were superstars in the town’s historical lore. Paige was in heaven.
Enjoying that she seemed to be having the time of her life, he was picking up a signal that intrigued. What his father had always said was right—figuring out a woman was a lifelong project because when God gave out surprises, the ladies got the bonus pack. Just when you thought you’d seen it all, she busted out something new. In Paige’s case, it was a near constant commentary about families.
“Did you see that? Oooh, a family would love that.”
“This’d be great for families.”
“I’d bring a family here. Wouldn’t you?”
“They should do more to accommodate families.”
She was a broken record on the subject. What the hell was that all about? Did she want to start a family? He was confused but waiting for her to toss out more clues was also hella fun.
They were leaving Nellie’s Ice Cream Emporium, after sharing a double-scoop cone, on their way to check out a store selling cowgirl gear—oh, lord—when it happened.
“Um, excuse me, sir.”
Edward looked around for the voice and found a young boy. He was maybe eight or nine, standing next to Paige at a display of tourist brochures that she was busy stashing in her bag.
“What’s up, little man?”
“My brother thinks I’m crazy for asking, but you’re Sergeant Duke, aren’t you?”
Sergeant Duke. Oh, my fucking god. The action hero character that made him a superstar. The look of certainty on the kid’s face, mixed with unmistakable hero worship, gave him no choice.
“Yep, that’s me. But don’t tell everybody, okay, my dude? My gal and I are on vacation, and you know how girls are.” He rolled his eyes to include the kid in the off-hand slice of guy talk.
The boy smiled. “My mom makes dumb lists. Stuff we have to do. Does your girlfriend do that? I hate lists.”
Edward chuckled and shoved his hands in his pants. “Nah. Mostly she makes suggestions.”
The kid laughed. “My dad says there’s no such thing.”
“What do you mean? No such thing as a suggestion?” He liked where this was going. Never too early to start a boy off on the right track where women were concerned.
“Yeah. Says moms order, not suggest.”
A smile spread across his face. He looked at Paige, who was grinning and already rustling around in that bag of hers. They both knew where this was going.
“Hey,” the kid yelped. “Can I have a selfie?”
“Sure but do you have a phone? Aren’t you a little young for that?”
“No … but my brother does. Hang on!”
Keeping the grimace off his face proved difficult. Shit. And fuck. And shit again. Seconds later, the eager young boy returned with his brother, a taciturn-looking nerd-type sporting a NASA t-shirt and carrying an iPhone 6x.
“See, Shayne. I told you. It’s Sergeant Duke, and he said I could have a selfie. You take it and do it right.”
Well, looked like there was nothing to do but be this kid’s superhero. Edward dropped to his knee so his bulk didn’t overwhelm the youngster and threw an arm around the
kid’s shoulder. With his free hand, he made the Sergeant Duke signature move, a clenched fist, and held it up for the picture.
Suitably impressed, Shayne snapped a couple of pictures until Paige moved in to their midst. She whispered, “All I found was the scratch pad from the last campground. It’ll have to do.”
“Okay, guys,” he drawled as the two kids freaked out over the selfies, “who wants an autograph?”
He scribbled a peace sign on the scratch pad, signed his name along with Duke’s initials, and handed each kid the souvenir. Another minute of thanks and the boys ran off. He looked at Paige, slid his sunglasses on, and shrugged. What could he do? Kids were always the exception.
Less than twelve hours later, the shit hit the fan.
Planning for two more days of sightseeing before heading to the Banning homestead, Paige was in heaven or at least in close proximity. She couldn’t have hoped for more than this time with Edward. In a way, going off alone as they had gave them a chance to experience what the future would be like. For a newly engaged couple, what could be more important?
There was life for them beyond Hollywood. She was sure of that. When it was time to put down roots and start a family, she didn’t imagine for a second that Southern California would be where they chose to live. It was exciting to think about what the future held.
The lodge where they were camping was a great big old thing with a restaurant and gift shop and a mini museum full of artifacts and memorabilia from the Wild West days. The place was crawling with families and her mind was ticking along on overdrive.
“Excuse me, Miss Turner?”
She was browsing the gift shop for souvenirs when the pleasant woman who checked them in approached her.
“A package came for you from Los Angeles. I have it at the front desk. Stop by on your way out, okay?”
A package? How was that possible? Carolyn knew where they were, but she hadn’t sent a text saying to expect anything. Everything had been going so well that she didn’t want to be Debbie Downer and immediately assume the worst just because something unexpected happened. But …
The Gideon Affair Page 24