White Hot Holidays 25: Miss Behavior

by Ann Wesley Hardin

  In a move that made her want to fuck him again out of gratitude, Gage scrambled out of the bag, pulled it over her head then got himself dressed in the spotlight, all the while radioing back and forth with the copter pilot as if discussing hog futures. In fact, that’s what he was discussing.

  Had she taken an unscheduled detour to Green Acres?

  She wrestled with the sleeping bag to keep herself cloaked and felt around for her clothes. Ah ha! Panties. She grabbed them and slithered her legs through the openings.

  “Here.” Gage’s hand shot under the cover and threw in her bra. What a treat trying to get that on. The straps twisted and scratched at her skin, but this was hardly the time to get picky.

  “Going out,” Gage clipped. She heard him slide into the front and the squeak and bang of the door. The plane lurched sideways as he hopped out on the wing. Then the searchlight went off and muffled conversation began outside her window.

  Her fingers turned to jelly as she punched legs into her jeans. Sliding the sweater over her head, she threw her arms wide into the sleeves, yanked it down over her torso and cast off the sleeping bag.

  The first thing she noticed was the clear pink sky of dawn. The second was the amused eyes of her rescuers peering at her through the Plexiglas.

  One of them was John Preston. And he was not amused.

  Lorna gulped.

  * * * * *

  “I’m sorry,” Gage said for the second time as they crawled out of the copter at Flintlock Municipal Airport. John had leapt out practically before they hit the ground and stalked away. Presumably never to be seen again.

  She put her hand on Gage’s arm and patted it. “It’s okay.” And she meant it.

  John had been such a fucking pig on the ride home. As if he’d never made a mistake in his life. He’d lectured her on impropriety and droned on and on about how they would never be able to keep this out of the newspapers. Her name would be dragged through the mud and his with her if they went ahead with the merger. Finally she’d told him to shut the fuck up and the shock on his face made it worth it.

  She felt a devilish pleasure at having the last word, and mightily relieved she wouldn’t have to work with someone who had a permanent stick up his ass. Why hadn’t she seen any of that before? He’d seemed so elegant and perfect. Had her perceptions been that starstruck and clouded?

  As she walked across the tarmac toward the tiny airport beside Gage, fresh and minty exhilaration filled her body. The sharp, clean air with its biting chill flowed into her lungs and made her feel invigorated and brand spanking new.

  Gage’s challenge to just live, as well as his inventive ideas of how to go about it, had struck a profound chord in her soul. His words were exactly what she’d needed to hear at this moment, though she hadn’t known she needed them. And his career advice sounded solid and eminently doable.

  She felt as if she stood on the cusp of a whole new and thrilling world, with new hopes and new resolutions, not only for the coming year but beyond.

  The only dark cloud on the horizon was informing her parents. They were going to freak. No doubt about it. So she put it off as long as she could.

  “Eventually, I’ll need to call my folks and tell them not to come,” she mentioned.

  But Gage’s thoughts appeared to be elsewhere.

  “Got to call Arnie,” he said distractedly, opening the door to the airport. Everyone filtered inside the warm, sparsely decorated building.

  “He’s on the road,” one of the men said. “Already diagnosed the problem, got the part, assembled his elves and headed out.”

  “No shit,” Gage said.

  They all stared at each other.

  “How could he possibly do that?” Lorna asked.

  Gage looked at her with unfocused eyes. “Arnie knows things regular mortals don’t,” he teased. Then he shrugged. His gaze sharpened and he frowned. “Don’t ask me. He’s smarter than the average bear. That’s all.” But his voice sounded odd.

  Lorna glanced at the rest of the men. They all had their heads down inspecting their shoes. Strange. A shiver danced down her spine. “Is he psychic?”

  The men’s heads flew up and they exchanged tense glances. Then as if choreographed, they scattered in different directions, slapping each other on the back and shouting stilted good-byes.

  “What’d I say?” Lorna squawked.

  Gage’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Around here we say Arnie’s intuitive.”

  Okay, she thought. Was that so hard? Geez. People could be so touchy.

  Gage grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the front doors. “You got a place to stay?”

  She used to. But she had to reckon John’s invitation to bunk with his family had been totally and thoroughly revoked. “Nope.”

  A wolfish smile spread across his face. “There’s a nice hot shower waiting at my house.”

  “Shouldn’t you get on the road to be with Arnie?”

  He slung an arm across her shoulder and led her to a gleaming black antique car with the words Gas Gage scrawled on the side. “It can wait a couple of hours. Arnie’s fast, but he hasn’t attained warp speed. Yet…”

  Once again, a chill rippled down her back. Her closest friend, Ava Ward, popped into her thoughts. Sounded like Arnie and she had a lot in common. She’d have to check him out. Later. Right now she had a date with a long hot shower and a long hot bush pilot.

  They drove the short distance to Gage’s house in companionable silence. Lorna gazed out the window and evaluated downtown Flintlock as they passed through.

  Ancient, time-slick cobblestones paved the main drag. Stucco storefronts held a hint of the old west and an art deco marquee graced the State Theatre. The avenue was wide, allowing head-in parking and the sidewalks were raised.

  Flintlock was a sleepy town, barely two blocks long. But Lorna noted four antique shops. Maybe it wasn’t such a cultural backwater after all. Maybe she could be happy here. With Gage.

  Of course, first he had to ask her to stay.

  But could she really? Even if he asked? Even if Flintlock seemed a nice place on paper, was small-town living for her? Ava and Lorna frequently agreed that big cities were where it was at—that they’d wither and die anywhere else.

  Oh well. She was getting ahead of herself. By tomorrow Gage could be thoroughly saturated with her. Best to take one day at a time. Either way, though, whether she ended up with him or not, she’d already decided to follow Gage’s map for her career. In the end, it was what she wanted. She’d needed him to show her and for that he’d have her eternal affection and gratitude. Which she planned on displaying in just a few minutes.

  Her stomach chose that moment to let out a yowl and she realized she hadn’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours. Neither had Gage. If they wanted to spend the next two hours in the shower, and hopefully, a nice big, soft bed, they were seriously going to need some sustenance. “You know,” she said. “Breakfast sure does start the day out right.”

  Gage peered at her out of the corner of his eye. “That’s what they say.”

  “Yes. And you know what else?” Lorna cozied into her corner of the car, smiling sweetly. “Office workers who skip it tend to be poor performers.”

  Her comment was met with silence for a moment then Gage exploded with rich laughter. He was still laughing when he pulled up to the coffee shop and parked the car. “You made your point,” he said. “Can I at least convince you to order takeout?”

  Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at Gage’s house, breakfast sandwiches in hand. It didn’t take long for Gage to gobble his. He sat and watched Lorna while she ate.

  “You have ketchup on your chin,” he said one time. “You have a tiny piece of sausage in your teeth,” he said another. From anyone else, that kind of scrutiny would’ve been annoying. But Gage was enthralled, not critical. The difference was mind-altering.

  He nearly pounced when she crumpled her bag. “Whoa,” she held up a hand. “Not so fast. I want a t
our of your house.” Possessions said a lot about a man. Besides, a full tummy made her playful and in the mood to tease.

  “This is the kitchen,” he said without getting up. He pointed to his left. “That’s the living room.”

  Lorna looked.

  He shot a thumb over his shoulder. “Back there’s the bathroom. Wanna see the bedrooms?”

  “Yes.”

  They jumped on each other, chairs flying.

  Gage kissed her madly, all over—her face, neck and shoulders until she was thoroughly exfoliated by his unshaven chin. Hoisting her high, he carried her to his bedroom, kicked open the door and tossed her on the bed.

  “Let’s get down, woman. I’ve gone too long without you already.”

  Did he mean since the last time they had sex, or in his life altogether? Lorna bounced onto her back on the plush pillow-top. Rising up on her elbows, hair tumbled, breasts heaving, she watched him undress. “I thought we were going to take a shower.”

  “I’ll get to it. I’ll get to it.” His dark eyes searched hers as he unbuckled his belt, sliding it out and tossing it aside like a dead snake. She licked her lips when he began unbuttoning his jeans. He left them on, reaching up to pull his sweater off. Man oh man. He was perfect. That broad chest and those rock-hard abs she’d explored in the dark looked even tastier in bright daylight. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on him again.

  “Your turn,” he growled, prowling onto the bed. He reached out and pulled her to her knees, opening his mouth over hers in hot, wet desire. One by one the pearl buttons on her cashmere cardigan popped open.

  “Take off your pants,” he ordered and leaned back to watch.

  Lorna slithered out inch by inch, gyrating until his breath came in spurts.

  “Now take off my pants,” he said.

  Lorna nearly detonated. She stretched out on all fours, ass in salacious locomotion, and languidly pressed her palm into his swollen cock, letting her fingers do the walking. Peering up at him through tangled hair, she wet her lips slowly with her tongue.

  That was all he could stand. Gage yanked her up, toppled her backwards and ripped off her bra. Her breasts surged into his mouth while three hands tore desperately at his jeans.

  When she glanced up at him, he captured her face, eyes boring into hers.

  “Lorna, I could fall in with love you.” He was trembling all over. “I think I already have.”

  “I could love you, too, Gage Archer.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, as if hardly daring to believe.

  “You okay?” she whispered. He hadn’t stopped shivering.

  “Fine,” he said. “Just overwhelmed to be home. With you. Lorna, I’ve never felt this way before.”

  Her cocky, hotshot pilot. Home. Was she home? She felt that way with Gage. But what about Flintlock? “Then shhhh. Relax baby.”

  “Hey, that’s my line.”

  She pushed him onto his back and crawled on top of him, tucking her limbs beneath his body for warmth. They explored for a while, savoring the feel of each other and finding favorite places.

  “I like your tummy,” Gage said, planting tiny kisses along her neck. “Not too hard. Not too soft. But just right.”

  “I like your fuzzy chest.” Lorna nuzzled it.

  He rolled them over, propping king-sized pillows behind her back and easing between her legs. He skimmed his hands under her ass, hoisting her hips higher and she felt the moistened tip of his cock teasing her drenched cunt.

  She moaned for more, for all of him including his heart, and knew with unflinching certainty she’d be willing to give him hers in return.

  * * * * *

  Gage caught her lips in his at the moment of entry and felt her hot gasp in his mouth, tasting her pleasure. He slid inside quickly, moving to find all of her.

  When he reached her womb, he paused, savoring the succulent sensation of her pussy binding every inch.

  “You feel so good,” she groaned, fingers butterflying across his back.

  “You feel good too,” he answered, thrusting gently but deeply, so each movement drove them closer together. He felt as if he was coming unhinged by all these new and luscious emotions, how the fit of her body around his affected his heart.

  Who’d have thought that would ever happen? Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. He’d just never known it before her.

  Lorna’s legs draped his waist, her fingers denting his ass. She circled her hips beneath him and busted his bronco big-time.

  He felt her tongue enter his mouth and he sucked on it like a Popsicle. Lorna returned the favor, their tongues arguing selfishly.

  “Faster,” she ordered.

  He obeyed and upped the tempo with rhythmic, short lunges. She whimpered, tightening around him, straining. Her fingers dug into his ass and pressed his cock in hard. He felt her tensing, could literally feel her climbing as her feet slapped his back. Suddenly she arched, frozen in place like a statue.

  “Yes,” she screamed, uncaging colossal spasms. “Yes, just like that. Don’t stop.”

  Gage relinquished control, bracing his knees and pumping her desperately. They climaxed in unison, heaving and moaning while the aftershocks rocked and rolled.

  Good to the last drop, he thought as he melted inside her. Like earlier, in the airplane, she was still coming. He’d unleashed a demon. She was lathered with moisture, heat rising off her skin like a steam bath and enveloping him in a moist cloud of pure need.

  He blew gently on her skin to cool her off. Now it was her turn to tremble uncontrollably, his turn to do the coddling.

  “Oh. My. God,” she gasped, tears leaking out of her eyes.

  Gage grabbed a wad of tissues off the nightstand and swabbed her face. “Lobotomy completed. Right on schedule,” he said, taunting her with a final thrust.

  It teetered her over the edge. She soldered every centimeter of herself to him, giggling, crying—a fine line.

  He’d triumphed. He’d reduced her to a quivering, stupid blob. Good thing too. At least now he had some company.

  * * * * *

  Lorna returned to Earth in fits and starts, feeling as though she’d magically survived a lightning strike. The odds were about the same, she thought vaguely, of her finding love with a pilot within twenty-four hours of meeting him versus becoming a human lightning rod. Things like this just didn’t happen to practical women like her.

  Yet her heart hummed like a live wire, generating enough energy to power Flintlock and beyond. It was an addictive feeling—one she wanted to nurture. And it seemed he was willing to nurture it too. She’d be a fool to refuse such an opportunity.

  Gage’s cock remained cinched inside her. She refused to let him out. To his credit, he waited patiently, hugging her and offering pillow-talk compliments in a tantalizing whisper. She’d never felt so desirable or cherished in her life.

  “Thirsty?” he asked after a while.

  “Oh man, yes,” she said, stirring lazily.

  “Be back in a sec,” he said.

  His withdrawal left a gap. And not just in her body. She stretched, enjoying the coolness of the sheets against her inflamed skin and mentally weighing their options for the future.

  Could Gage move his business to Minneapolis? Kick it up a notch by catering to business travelers and trendy yupsters? Somehow she couldn’t envision him in that milieu. He was too free-spirited. He’d be a fish out of water, as she would be here.

  How were they going to manage? A long-distance romance?

  When she looked up, he stood in the doorway, his stunning physique framed like a priceless work of art. No way could she settle for weekends only. Something had to give, and she had the sickening feeling it needed to be her.

  “Spring water, here,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Coffee brewing.”

  Lorna took a long drink and let the cold water temporarily wash away her worries. She had here. She had now. And that was simply going to have to do until she found another way.
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br />   Chapter 4

  “You landed on a frickin’ skating rink.” Arnie Simpson adjusted his toothpick. “I suggest you didn’t know it was a lake with the surface covered in snow. When I realized, I called in a plow. Not an easy thing to do on New Year’s Eve.”

  “No shit.” Illuminated in powerful floodlights, Gage and Lorna stood slack-jawed, gazing over the twinkling ice. No wonder they’d skidded crazily at landing. The lake was huge. The Mooney looked like a toy on the other side—tail still teasing the Norway spruce.

  “You carved out a flippin’ canyon,” Arnie said. “Looks like a brontosaurus hoedown. I counted ten-and-a-half three-sixties. C’mon, let’s take a stroll.”

  He sauntered ahead and Lorna tried reconciling the actual man with the mythical one that’d been planted in her brain. Far from the superior, otherworldly creature Gage and the others had implied, Arnie was short, built and appealingly cute. He sported the brown mop-top and longish sideburns of a rock star, but in all other aspects appeared to be a normal, homegrown airplane mechanic.

  Except he had diagnosed and repaired the Mooney’s issues in record-breaking time. But what did she know about these things? Gage hadn’t been surprised when he’d rung them out of an early-evening shower and informed them the plane was ready. Who was she to question?

  They retraced the arc of the accident. Just as Arnie said, deep circles gouged the ice. Seeing them made Lorna queasy and reawakened the horror and doom that’d overtaken her during the landing. Throughout the three-hour drive from Flintlock her dread had built. Gage expected to fly home, and, she assumed, take her with him.

  She hadn’t anticipated being scared off her rocker to get back into that plane.

  “Some folks were out here fishing,” Arnie kept up a running commentary. “I measured through their hole. The ice is twenty-four and seven-eighths-inches thick. I suggest you were lucky.”