Hell in a Handbasket - The Journey

by Damara Blackthorne

  "Oh, you do, you do entertain me! As for the proof you seek, I was thinking perhaps something of a physical nature. You know, something to get the ole heart rate up, get the blood pumping to prove the ticker is in great shape."

  What was the look that crossed his face? Was it doubt? Did he honestly think that someone as hot as he was couldn't get just about any woman to gladly drop her panties for him and pray that it was all caught on tape so she could prove it to her friends later? Ok, maybe that was just me, maybe he wasn’t so sure the "ole ticker" was in such great shape after all. What to do…what to do…

  "Hhhmmmm…Something physical you say? Just what did you have in mind, because…I have some great ideas…" Waggle, waggle…Again I waggled my eyebrows at him.

  "Oh really, I'd love to hear some of your ideas."

  In the sexiest voice I could muster, "Well, for starters…you could drop right here at my feet…" I pointed to the floor right there in front of my feet for effect and in a straight-laced voice, "and give me fifty push ups." My turn to smirk.

  He snorted and then started to choke. I jumped up from where I was sitting, sat down beside him and started patting him on the back.

  "Are you ok?" I was really worried. "I'm really not so sure you can handle any of my works."

  He burst out laughing. Horrified, I jumped up and went back to my seat.

  "Well, what a way to make a girl feel good about herself—not!" I pouted.

  I leaned over, put my elbow on the armrest, put my face in my hand, looked at him with true hurt in my eyes and pouted.

  "I'm sorry. Truly I am. I don't know what came over me. Please, let me make it up to you." His eyes were wide and had a hint of tear in them from the choking. It only served to make him look absolutely adorable. I was done for.

  "I really don't think you can. I mean first you give me doubts about your heart. Then you start choking at the mere mention of physical activity and then when I express true concern you bust out laughing and hurt my feelings. I really don't see how you can make all of that up to me."

  "At least give me the chance. Let me try. What do you have to lose?" There went those eyebrows again.

  "I don't know. Give me a rundown of what you have in mind and I'll think about it."

  "Well, since you're a little leery of reading some of your work to me, I could help you write some. You seemed to be at a loss earlier."

  "Well, it was a bit distracting with Gertrude in my ear. It kind of killed the mood, if you know what I mean. Besides, if you aren't healthy enough to hear about it what makes you think you're healthy enough to do it?"

  He chuckled and gave me a smile that lit up the room and had me reaching for the oxygen mask. Damn that was on the plane and I was still in the blasted lobby.

  "I didn't say anything about doing. I was thinking I could talk and you could write, but doing sounds a whole lot better."

  "Oh God." I dropped my head into my hands, too embarrassed to even look up at him.

  He dropped to his knees in front of me. And with his left hand, he cupped my chin and lifted my face to look at him.

  I tried to look away but he held my face firm and wouldn't let me turn.

  I looked into those deep green eyes and noticed flecks of gold. I was mesmerized—I couldn't have looked away then if my life had depended on it.

  I noticed his eyes seemed to get darker in color. Wow. Then he licked his lips and I melted right there in my seat.

  He traced my lips with his thumb and my breath caught. I couldn't seem to breathe. Where in the hell was the air? I wanted to lick his thumb so bad I couldn't see straight. I was actually scared. It’s one thing to write adult erotica and another to live it. Who the hell was I kidding, I was terrified!

  He must have seen something in my eyes because the next thing I knew he had put his thumb in my mouth. Oh God! If this is just a preview, then I'm the one who would never be able to handle his works!

  My eyes closed of their own will. I swirled my tongue around his thumb and I heard a sound come from my throat that sounded something like a sigh and a moan mixed together yet it was a bit of a strangled sound, almost like a mewl. A mewl? I was mewling? I heard him groan deep in his chest and I forced my eyes to open and look at him. He jerked his thumb out of my mouth and smashed his lips against mine. That was it. I'd died and gone to heaven.

  His lips were forceful as his tongue traced my lips, insisting to be allowed access into my mouth. I couldn't deny him anything. He entered my mouth and sent shivers down my spine that settled into a raging fire low in my belly. I could feel my panties getting wet and I froze.

  As his tongue was still exploring my mouth, his left hand went up my neck to gently cup my head and got tangled in my hair. The tops of his fingers of his right hand trailed down the inside of my arm to my wrist. Then he slowly made his way to the hem of my shirt. Before I even had an inkling as to what was happening, his hand was under my shirt, rubbing my back and waist. A sudden spasm shot through me and I started to shake. I couldn't breathe. I was practically dying here. All of my energy was gone. I was exhausted and I hadn't done a damn thing but kiss him. Oh God, I was in big trouble here. I placed my hands on his chest and pressed into him, trying to get some space between us. I trembled and shook my head in an effort to clear the cobwebs out. What in Holy Hell came over me? I don't do the things I write about. This isn't me…and in the airport lobby no less. It’s official, I have lost my mind.

  I dropped my head and tried to speak. It came out as a kind of weird croak.

  "Uhm…If I can…" cough “ever think clearly again…" throat clear ,"Uh…I may very well write that…because, well hello…DAMN!"

  He lifted my face to his and traced small circles on my jaw with his thumb. "We have a lot more to write."

  "Not here in the airport lobby we don't," I choked out, sounding indignant. I shivered again.

  He smiled. "Anywhere you want to go."

  "Uhm…I don't really know this area and I'm still not thinking very well. I don't even know if I can walk yet."

  His smile broadened. "You have done this before, right?"

  "Not with a stranger and not in front of people." I looked around nervously, afraid someone had seen our very public display.

  Now he was outright grinning from ear to ear. "My apologies. My name is Ryder Madsen, and you are?"

  With his thumb he began to trace my lips. Hell, there went any chance for clear headed thinking…I could actually see it flying out the window.

  "Ryder. Ryder Madsen. What a unique and beautiful name. It suits you." I gave him a lazy smile partnered with dreamy eyes.

  He chuckled again. "And you are?"

  "Oh…uh, I just…I thought…with the way you had hired Gertrude, you knew who I was. Sorry, I'm Maeve Bendis. Damara Maeve Bendis to be exact, but everyone calls me Maeve." Why am I rambling? "It's very nice to meet you." I offered him my hand to shake.

  He smirked…again. "I think we're past the handshake phase. But I was raised with some etiquette and manners."

  He took my hand and kissed every fingertip in turn. He kissed the top of my hand and then turned it over and kissed my palm.

  Holy Friggin' Smokes…I was going up in flames and fast! "Uhm…" I raised my eyebrows in an effort to open my eyes. "Uhm…"

  "Yes Maeve?"

  "Uhm…" I shuddered hard. "Oh, Holy!"

  He looked awfully pleased…with himself or me?

  "Maeve…intoxicating."

  "Intoxicating?" The fog in my head eased a little.

  "It's one of the ancient Celtic definitions for the name Maeve."

  "Oh." The fog was starting to clear. "You know ancient Celtic?"

  "Some."

  "You said one of the definitions. What are the others?"

  "Did I say I knew what they were?"

  "Well no, but…I just…thought…"

  He grinned. "Well Maeve, I think that's something we can discuss later. I want to see just how true the definitions are before I di
vulge their meanings."

  "Oh, ok." I sounded like someone had put a leaky balloon in my chest.

  "Do you know what your other names mean?" He looked serious, like a professor giving a lecture.

  "No, I think my parents must have hated me when I was born. I mean really, Damara Maeve Bendis. Odd, dull and boring."

  "On the contrary Maeve, after today you'll know your parents loved you a great deal!" Man, he looked so sincere.

  "How odd that you know the Celtic meaning of my name, you did all of that and you didn't know who I was." Did I just think that out loud? I felt the blush creep up my face.

  He turned his head slightly and gave me a sideways glance with that upturned grin then uttered, "Everything happens for a reason…Intoxicating Maeve." Sing~songing the last two words.

  That made me smile a soft, shy smile highlighted with a crazy blush.

  "Well, we've taken care of the strangers part, now let's take care of the ‘not in front of people’ part."

  I sheepishly looked up at him, knowing full well where this was going and that I wasn't going to be able to back down or walk away.

  "So tell me Maeve, have you joined the Mile High Club?"

  I was actually thrown off guard there for a minute. "Uhm, no. The plane's grounded remember?"

  "I didn't mean right this minute, I was asking in general."

  "Oh, still no." I think there was a little sound of panic in my voice.

  The corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly. "Soon then."

  He took my hand, helped me to my feet and gathered my belongings. "We have a lot more writing to do. Shall we?"

  Chapter Two

  "Were you so certain Gertrude was going to help you score?"

  He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated out of him and into me, leaving me warm and shivering at the same time.

  "No. You caught my attention on the plane here. You were so into your laptop and I wanted to know what it would take for me to hold your attention like that."

  His smile left me feeling wet and on edge.

  "Until I knew what you did with your laptop, I wasn't interested in scoring, as you so eloquently put it. I was interested in getting to know you. To be able to get and hold your attention like your laptop does."

  "So, my profession had you thinking I was an easy score?" I know I looked and sounded hurt, because I felt hurt.

  "No, Maeve. That was the farthest thing from my mind. I don't think you're an easy score. I think you're an amazing woman who hasn't been loved properly. Nor are you even aware of just how sensual and alluring you are. I'm not really certain when the thought of making love to you became my focus."

  He continued. "I bet if I looked up the music list on your laptop I'd find a bunch of songs speaking about lost love, love being longed for, star crossed promised love."

  "Hey, those songs help me write."

  "I'm sure they do, but we're going to give you something a little more substantial to write about."

  Was he for real? I had to change the direction of the conversation or I was in jeopardy of jumping him before we got somewhere private.

  "So…Gertrude?" I gave him a sideways glance afraid of his reaction at the change of subject and about the story of Gertrude.

  "She and I…have met before and we have an interesting friendship. Besides I thought, who better to earn your trust than a kindly grandmother?"

  "Well, that part certainly worked." I gave him a look of scepticism.

  "So Gertrude's grandson Dylan is a real spit fire isn't he?" It was his turn to glance sideways at me.

  "Dylan?" I felt like a kid who hadn't studied for a pop quiz.

  "Really Maeve, you need to be more observant. You never know what little tidbits of information you might get from someone. Information that might help in your writing."

  I felt thoroughly and rightfully chastised. I didn't know what to say or do next. Did I learn more about Gertie's grandson who truthfully at this very moment I couldn't care less about? How, on the other hand, did I steer the conversation back to his steamy glances and breathtaking kisses?

  "So what do you…? Uh…think about…Uhm…what held my attention…with the laptop?" Sheepish? Yep, that was me.

  Was that a snicker? Did he just snicker at me?

  "It's easy to see what's holding your attention now. Hhhmmmm…about what held your attention with your laptop…Well. Seeing as how I'm helping you write, I guess it's safe to say I like it." He glanced at me with a smile that promised going to hell in a hand basket and enjoying it every step of the way.

  Ryder held on to my elbow as he guided me through the airport. How was it possible he felt so at home in an airport? How many other women has he done this with?

  He guided me past the lounge, the shops and toward an isolated area near the rear of the airport. Where was security?

  "Uhm, Ryder…"

  "Yes, Maeve?"

  "I thought we were going somewhere."

  "We are somewhere, Maeve."

  "No, I meant as in leave the airport."

  His looked at me with a bit of suspicion. "Don't you have a plane to catch?"

  "Yes."

  "Is it a flight you can afford to miss?"

  "No, I…I ju-just thought, you know…privacy and all." I stuttered.

  "Maeve, do you trust me?"

  "I'm trying to."

  He smiled that hell in a hand basket smile again.

  "Well, trust me just a little bit more. I promise not to hurt you. You won't miss your flight and today will be one of the best days of your life."

  I swallowed hard. "With promises like that, how can I say no?" I squeaked out at him. I still felt a little afraid.

  He took me to a set of doors. Bathrooms…I'm guessing employee bathrooms because most customers wouldn't have needed to be back here.

  "Bathrooms? Really?"

  "Live a little Maeve."

  "It's not the living that has me worried, it's the catching something and dying that has me concerned."

  "Oh Maeve, you really make me smile."

  "Seriously? I'm worried about possibly dying here and you're amused?"

  "No, I'm amused because you have so little trust. You haven't even begun to see your true potential and you're as skittish as a kid. Adorable is what you are. Adorably intoxicating." We kept walking.

  He stopped in front of a door without any markings. He turned to me then. "Are you having second thoughts?"

  "I think I might be," with a slight tremble in my voice.

  "Good, second thoughts are good. It shows you're thinking with your head and not just your hormones."

  "Uh-huh."

  About that time a guy came out of the door. He was an average guy. Average height, build. Hell, I was with Ryder, every man was average now.

  He stopped and looked at us and then grinned big. "Hey, Ryder. Man, what are you doing here?"

  "Hey, Tom, I have some work I'm attending to. Would you mind terribly if I used your office for a while?"

  "Sure go ahead."

  "Listen Tom, I have a favor to ask."

  "You mean other than using my office?"

  Ryder smiled his oxygen-stealing smile. "Yes. Could you please let me know when flight 187 to Boston is ready?"

  "Sure…"

  "Thanks, also…Maeve, hand me your plane ticket please."

  "Uhm…ok…why?" I handed over my ticket before I got my answer…why am I so stupid?

  "Tom, could you please make sure Maeve's ticket is upgraded to first class and make sure her seat is beside mine? Thanks ever so much."

  "No! Ryder, I can't afford that."

  "Maeve, we have a lot of writing to do and I don't think you want to waste time arguing with me about paying for an upgrade. Do you?"

  "Well…I…I don't…I don't know. If…if we don't talk about it now, when will we?"

  "On the plane."

  "Are you going to the same destination as me? How do you know where I'm going?"

  "Maeve�
��" Ryder let out an agonizing breath, rubbed his hands through his hair, and looked as if he were having second thoughts.

  "Anything else?" Tom had one eyebrow raised and a cockeyed grin.

  "Yes, when you get back, knock. The door will be locked."

  "You got it." Tom walked away with a look of admiration smeared across his face.

  We walked into the office. It was an average office, small, four bland walls painted a light tan. There were a few travel posters. No windows. I guess that's why the posters were there, so a person wouldn't go crazy looking at nothing all day but four blank walls. There was a large but ordinary desk with an office chair behind it and two basic chairs sitting across from it. There was a desktop computer sitting on the desk with a screensaver of swimming fish running on it. There were four plain, tan metal filing cabinets behind the desk. The only thing that wasn't ordinary was the couch. An exquisite overstuffed leather couch of a deep burgundy set inside of a hand-carved wooden frame.

  Ryder locked the door behind us and set my belongings on the desk. He turned to me and placed his hands on my shoulders, caressing from the tops of my shoulders to my neck.

  "Friend of yours?"

  "Yes."

  "That's it? That's all I get?"

  "Would you rather talk about him? Or this…?"

  Ryder's right hand continued stroking the indent of where my shoulder met my neck, sending serious shivers down my spine. He stroked there for a few moments before his hand went to the back of my neck, cradling my head.

  His left hand left a blazing trail of overheated flesh down the outside of my arm to my wrist. Once at my wrist he held his hand loosely while his thumbs drew lazy circles to the inside flesh. No air. There is no air in here. I began rapidly breathing, trying to find air to force into my starving lungs. I felt the blood rushing through my veins, setting me on fire.

  "Look at me." I heard him speaking from what seemed far away.

  I must have closed my eyes. I don't remember.

  "Maeve, look at me."

  He abruptly removed his hand from my wrist and I felt as if I had lost my lifeline.

  I staggered, inhaling sharply as my eyes jerked open.

  With his right hand on my neck, he grabbed a handful of my hair and tipped my head into an upwards position. Now I had no choice but to look at him.