All this time that we’d been together I’d always thought he’d shown his softer side to someone else. Knowing that he hadn’t made me feel even more special.
As the town car rolled past the right exit to take me home, I tapped Greg on the shoulder. “I thought you were taking me home?”
“Mr. Statham called me a few minutes ago. He wants me to bring you to the airstrip instead.”
“He’s flying me somewhere? On short notice?”
“He didn’t say anything further, Miss Gracen.”
Half an hour later, the town car cruised into the private jetport and stopped a few hundred feet in front of Jonathan and his plane.
There were twenty people standing around him—his crew, a few of his top accountants, and a couple of people I’d never seen before. He was pacing in front of them, shaking his head in anger, giving orders of some type.
Greg opened my door and reached for my hand, whispering a warning. “Something’s been bothering him all day...”
I nodded and watched as Jonathan continued to yell at his employees, something about “This is unacceptable,” and “Why am I just now finding out about this today?!”
I tried to step backwards and slip back inside the town car, but he looked over his shoulder and his blue eyes met mine.
He immediately stopped talking and stared at me, looking me up and down. He strolled over to where I was standing and pulled me into his arms.
Before I could say ‘Hello,’ he pressed his lips against mine and slipped his tongue into my mouth—kissing me until I couldn’t breathe.
“Why do you have such a hard time coming home at six?” he whispered harshly. “We’ve discussed this too many times...”
“I guess I keep forgetting that I have a curfew.”
“It’s an agreement.”
“You should’ve gotten it in writing.”
A faint smile played on his lips and he leaned forward and kissed me again—more passionately this time. He caressed my back with his hands and slipped his tongue deeper and deeper into my mouth.
I opened my eyes and realized that the twenty or so people that were behind us were now staring in our direction, whispering to one another.
I pulled away from him, blushing. “You can’t kiss me like that in front of your staff...”
“I can kiss you however I want.” He clasped my hand and walked me over to his team. “I need three advisors, one executive, and one intern. Takeoff in five minutes.”
He mumbled something under his breath as he led me over to the plane. As usual, he looked into my eyes for what felt like forever before helping me onboard. He motioned for me to take a seat first and then he sat down next to me.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He didn’t answer. “Could you tell my team to hurry up and decide who’s coming with us?” He shook his head at the flight attendant.
Within minutes, a few of his staff members filed into the cabin.
“Are you going to answer my question, Jonathan?”
“No. Put on your seatbelt.”
I blinked and he rolled his eyes, reaching over my lap to do it himself.
I tried to read his expression so I could see what he was thinking, but he was perfectly stoic.
“Mr. Statham,” the flight attendant said as she looked at me—not him. “The pilot is asking if you would like for us to wait a few minutes for takeoff or...”
He cupped my face in his hands. “Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded.
“We can take off.” He clasped my hand.
I shut my eyes as the flight attendant reminded his staff to fasten their seatbelts, as the plane roared to life and slowly moved down the tarmac. As we ascended into the air, I felt Jonathan squeezing my hand and kissing my cheek.
I kept my eyes closed until I heard the familiar ping that signified that we were free to move about the cabin, until I heard the pilot’s voice over the intercom: “We’re all clear now, Miss Gracen.”
I looked behind our seats and noticed that all of his associates were busy typing away on their screens—completely preoccupied by whatever they were doing.
“Jonathan...” I was honestly worried. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
He unbuckled my seat belt and pulled me up. “We need to talk. Now.” He tugged me down the aisle and into the plane’s luxury bathroom.
Locking the door, he pulled me flush against his chest and removed something from his pocket.
“What is this?” He held a picture of me, Ryan, and Amanda in between us.
“Where did you get this?”
“One of my security guards found it outside your office this morning. It was with a letter—in a box from Ryan.”
“Your security guards check my mail?”
“As of today, yes. Where is this picture from?”
“Can we discuss the mail tampering issue first?”
“Claire...”
“It’s from our first high school reunion.”
“I thought you said you never went to one.”
“I went to the first one, the one that was in Pittsburgh.” I trailed my fingers around the loosely fitted black dress I was wearing in the photograph, around the pretty gold bracelet that matched the one Amanda was wearing. I cringed as I read Ryan’s “Remember this?” note.
“It doesn’t mean anything to you?” He tilted my chin up.
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s actually quite ironic that he would send this picture because I do remember this. I remember it very well...” I paused. “They passed out these crystallized awards for the people who won superlatives in the senior yearbook...Ryan and I got Cutest Couple and Couple Most Likely to Get Married, and me and Amanda got Most Likely to Be Best Friends Forever...”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past.” I shrugged. “Where’s the letter?”
“You think I saved that shit for you to read?”
“Of course not...” I rolled my eyes. “Now, about you tampering with my mail.”
“What about it?”
“Well one, its illegal. Two, Ryan’s not a threat.”
“He is when he wants something that’s mine.”
“I don’t think that’s the case. I just think he has something to say but I honestly don’t care what it is.”
“You shouldn’t.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You shouldn’t care about him at all.”
“I don’t...”
Silence.
He slid his thumb underneath the anchor charm of my necklace and spoke slowly. “You’re not his anymore, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep him far away from you because—” He pressed a warm kiss against my chest. “You belong to me.”
I was silent.
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“No...”
“If he happens to slip past my security...” He looked into my eyes and slipped his hands around my waist. “Or if he comes into your store again—or anywhere around you when I’m not there...You need to call me. ASAP.”
I nodded and he drew my bottom lip into his mouth, harshly trapping it between his teeth for several seconds before letting it go.
“Tell me you’ll call me.”
“Yes, I’ll...Call you...”
“I don’t share...” He traced my lips with his fingertips. “And I never will. Never.”
I wasn’t sure what to say or how to respond when he looked at me like this. I simply stared into his deep blue eyes and felt my heart beating an entirely new rhythm.
“Was that...Was that all we had to talk about?” I stepped to my left and reached over to press the door handle, but he grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall.
“No. That’s not it.” He reached down and pulled the silver clip I was wearing out of my hair. He brushed his thumb across my cheek and murmured something I didn’t understand.
Just as I was about to ask him to repeat himself, the jet began to shake back and forth,
and I instinctively clung to him and shut my eyes, bracing for the worst.
“It’s just turbulence, Claire,” he whispered. But the plane was shaking more violently so I clung to him even more—digging my nails into his neck.
The rough rattling continued and I heard the shuddering of the small cabinets next to me, heard the series of loud pings that meant we were supposed to be in our seats with our seatbelts buckled.
I won’t feel anything if we crash...I won’t feel a thing...
I took several short breaths and lowered Jonathan’s head to mine. “I love you...”
I wasn’t sure how long I clung to him, but after I silently said all my goodbyes to everyone else I loved, I noticed that the shaking had stopped and Jonathan’s arms were tightly locked around me.
There was another light ping, but just to be sure, I counted to sixty before opening my eyes. When my gaze met Jonathan’s I realized that he was smiling at me with his eyebrow raised.
“I’m glad you think that was funny.” I rolled my eyes and pushed him away, reaching for the door. “I’m bursting with laughter myself.”
“Stop.” He blocked me and hit a few digits on a keypad, effectively locking us inside. Then he lowered his mouth to mine. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Claire. I was just staring at you because you look really fucking beautiful today...”
He hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something more, but he crushed his lips onto mine and pinned me against the door.
I moaned as he took his time kissing me, running his fingers through every inch of my hair. I didn’t even close my eyes to savor the feeling.
I couldn’t.
He was commanding me to keep them open, giving me a look that said he was about to fuck me senseless.
Without breaking our kiss, he slid the straps of my dress down my shoulders and pushed it down, letting it fall to the floor.
I slipped my hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly—feeling how hard his dick was already. I was starting to unbutton his jacket, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head.
He trailed his tongue across my collarbone and in between my breasts, using his teeth to unfasten the latch at the front. When he finally got it open, he swirled the tip of his tongue around both of my nipples, biting down on each one until I murmured his name.
Tilting my head back, he pressed kisses up and down my throat and slowly released my hands. He slipped his thumb underneath the band of my panties and slowly ripped them off.
I gasped as he hooked one of my legs around his waist, as he slowly pushed his dick inside of me and commanded that I wrap my other leg around him.
“Jonath—”
“Shhh...” He placed my arms around his neck and pressed a light kiss against my forehead.
I bit my lip as he cupped my ass and started to slowly move me up and down. He pressed my back against the wall and slid his hands underneath my thighs, gripping me roughly as he began to pound into me.
There was no talking between us—just the sound of heavy breathing and our skin slapping against each other.
The plane shook again and I tightened my arms around his neck as he sped up our rhythm. I tried not to cry out, but I couldn’t help it.
“Jonathan...”
He drew both of my lips into his mouth and held them captive with his teeth, continuing to drive himself in and out of me.
I was murmuring into his mouth, begging him to release my lips, but he bit down on them even harder.
I squeezed my thighs around him as tremors started to make their way through my body, as I felt myself getting closer and closer to an orgasm.
Fuck...
He stared into my eyes—silently saying ‘I love you,’ and we exploded together—clinging to each other as our bodies shook violently, as the plane made a noticeable turn in the skies.
He let my lips go and panted. “I love you so fucking much, Claire...so fucking much...” He kissed my face over and over again and I breathlessly told him that I loved him too.
He looked into my eyes for a long time, caressing my cheek with his palm. As soon as my breathing was normal again, he took a step back—with our bodies still entwined, and sat down on the small window bench.
I tried to move out of his lap, but he held me still and kissed my lips.
“I’ll never get enough of you.” He caressed my back with his hands. “You have no idea how much you mean to me...”
“I do...I feel the same way about—” My sentence was interrupted with a hot and passionate kiss. When he finally pulled away from me, I tried to finish what I was going to say but he kissed me until I completely forgot.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed with us sitting like that, but the next thing I felt was him slowly moving himself out of me and repositioning me in his lap.
“I feel like we’ve done everything...” I murmured.
“Everything?”
“In regards to sex...”
“No, not everything.” He cupped my ass and squeezed it, trailing one finger between my cheeks. “But I figured we should save something for the honeymoon.”
My eyes widened in shock.
“I can also think of several other places where I’d love to fuck you.”
“You should make a list.”
“I will.” He gently eased me out of his lap.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
“To the only notary I trust.” He stood and picked my dress up from the floor. “He wasn’t able to charter a jet on short notice so we’re going to him in L.A.”
“Why do we need to see a notary?”
“Because you didn’t sign the papers I sent to your office.”
I sighed.
He’d sent me a sealed box of property deeds, yacht ownership records, and several investment portfolios at the beginning of the week. He’d had them delivered via two of his security guards with a handwritten note: “I want to share everything I own with you, before we’re married—Jonathan.”
“Why are you in such a rush?” I asked.
“Why are you not?”
“Because I’m being practical. Don’t you think it makes more sense to wait until I actually have your last name before I co-own everything you’ve worked so hard to get?”
“Not unless you plan on backing out of marrying me.” His voice was firm. “Since you decided not to sign the papers when I told you to—when my bank was willing to look the other way, we both need a separate set of witnesses and a notary for each set of contracts.”
Oh... “I’m sorry...I didn’t know that was why you did that.”
“And the second we’re done signing all these fucking contracts, we’re going to make a stop at a hotel.”
“We’re spending the night in L.A?”
“Yes. With our wedding planner.”
“What? I thought we were meeting with her next week. I still need to look through a few magazines and catalogues to make sure I have everything I want.”
“We’re doing it now, Claire. Right. Now. I feel like you’re delaying this, and if that’s the case I need to know why.” He looked as if he was waiting for me to say something, but I shook my head. “If it’s not the case, I need to know that you’re as serious as I am about getting married.” He pulled me close to his chest. “You can still meet with her next week to fine tune all the small details, but I want the date and the venue set tonight.”
“I am very serious about marrying you, Jonathan...”
“Prove it.”
“Okay, let me get this straight...” Our wedding planner paced our hotel suite tapping her lip.
Her name was Paris Corwin and she was the top wedding planner in the country. She’d worked with hundreds of celebrities, superstar athletes, and had even been an advisor for the royal wedding overseas.
Impeccably dressed in a dark gray suit and creamy colored blouse, she was wearing her brown hair in an asymmetrical bob that loosely framed her heart sha
ped face.
“You want the ceremony to be outdoors facing the ocean, but you don’t want it to be within miles of anywhere that’s accessible to the public?” She looked at me. “And you also don’t want it to be on a beach?”
“Right.”
“And you want the reception to be in an indoor facility that’s within walking distance from the ceremony space, but it has to have glass ceilings?”
“Correct.”
She took off her glasses and rubbed her forehead. “It also has to be in San Francisco?”
Jonathan spoke up. “We would prefer that.”
“Okay, well...I’m just going to be honest with you two. You may have to concede on a few things if you want to have it there.”
“A few things like what?” I raised my eyebrow. I’d been envisioning my wedding every night and I didn’t want to give up any of my preferences.
“Well...” She walked over to the projector screen she’d set up on the other side of the room. She dimmed the lights and clicked her mini remote. “This is a picture of The Shores Resort. It is a beachfront resort, but they have a huge ballroom with glass ceilings.”
She clicked again and another picture appeared onscreen. “This is La Santa Maria resort. It has a beautiful outdoor area that’s near the beach, but instead of sand there’s grass—which is what you want, but the ballroom does not feature glass ceilings. It does have floor to ceiling glass walls though, and those walls are twenty feet high.”
One of her team members walked over and handed me a white binder.
“Inside that binder, you’ll find similar resorts that are just as grand.” Miss Corwin said. “They’re just as pricey, but they’re only missing one of the things that you’re looking for.”
“Do they all have the grand steps for the reception?” I looked at Jonathan. “I want to enter the reception by walking down the steps, right before our first dance.”
“All the pages with the pink tabs have grand steps. The others have standard steps.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “Let me look...” I opened the binder and flipped through the pages relatively quick. All the venues were beautiful but they didn’t have everything I wanted, everything I’d dreamed of.
“What about this one?” Jonathan pointed at a page that featured a historic castle near the beach. It was gorgeous: Sun drenched stones, grand marble steps, but the ballroom didn’t have a glass ceiling and the outdoor area for the ceremony had more dirt than grass.
Mid Life Love: At Last Page 9