“What are you doing?”
“I don’t want to waste any more time I have with you.” His lips were on her neck as he pressed her up against the wall of the stairwell. Her head fell to the side, giving him better access as he ran his tongue lightly against her chilled skin.
“We still have thirty more flights,” she said.
“I don’t care.” He ground into her, his hard cock finding the space between her thighs.
“What if someone sees?” Her eyes darted up the stairs, but there wasn’t as much hesitation coming from her as he’d anticipated.
“Do you ever stop worrying?”
She raised a brow. “No.”
“Well, then I’m not doing a good enough job to ease your mind.” His hands greedily roamed over her body, and he lost all self-control when a little exhale filled with a moan escaped from her lips. Would he ever tire of that noise? No. A part of him, one that he’d be smart to ignore, wished he could just hole up in the penthouse with Abby for an entire year, maybe more, because he wanted to know her, every bit about her, more than just the physical. But they didn’t have that luxury, so he’d take what he could get.
“I can be bold.”
“I’d like to see that.” He smirked.
She slid off him and gave him an appraising look. For a second, he thought she was going to forget the whole thing and leave him hanging for the rest of the forty-floor trek. Instead, she looked up at him with piercing blue eyes that sent a jolt straight to his cock. She licked her lips, and a smile curled in the corners.
“You obviously haven’t challenged a business woman before, have you, Mr. Michaels?”
She skimmed her hands over the bulge in his pants, and a growl ripped from the back of his throat as she worked her way up to his belt buckle. Fuck, those hands were a goddamn weapon.
She removed the belt in a painfully slow fashion, and he knocked his head against the wall and worked at keeping himself calm. He was collected, nothing unsettled him, especially not anything involving the bedroom—or stairwell, for that matter.
When she finally undid the belt, she looked up through long lashes as she slowly unzipped his pants. He sucked in a breath as she grabbed his cock and pulled it out from his boxer briefs.
…
This weekend put a lot of things into perspective for Abby. First, she was missing out on the whole sex thing, like, whoa. Second, holy crap she’d need to invest in some sex toys after this weekend. Guess she knew what she’d be researching on the flight to L.A. Porn on the way to New York, vibrators on the way back—her life had taken a turn for the way more interesting. Third, being around Gage turned her into a different person. She thought on that for a second. Maybe not different, but he exposed traits she’d never seen in herself before. This desire for him flowed through every crevice of her body and put her in a constant state of want and need.
Like the need to switch roles and take the lead, because Abby enjoyed having power over Gage, to have his pleasure tied directly to hers. His knees buckled as her fingers folded around his hardened cock. Well, almost all the way around. Definitely a two-hand job. No pun intended. His legs spread wider as he leaned against the wall and knocked his head back. Never in her life would she have thought she’d be doing the good ol’ five-finger shuffle in a stairwell, but Gage messed with her hardwiring. Something about the way he carried himself, so full of assurance and confidence. It made her realize just how lacking her sex life had been. And damn, she’d really been missing out on a lot of fun all these years.
His hooded eyes regarded her with worship. Gage was right—she wasn’t some damsel in distress in regard to the bedroom. She needed to be the kind to climb her own hair and get out of this rut for good. And she wanted to. Badly. Starting with teasing Gage. She was off to a good start if his shaky thighs were any indication.
She ran her hands up his muscular quads and kneaded her thumbs into his thighs as she inched closer to his cock. She thought back to earlier when her lips skated along his well-endowed shaft with a feather light touch. Gage was the first guy she’d been with that bothered to do a little manscaping. Which was probably why she was feeling a bit better about sticking her mouth there—nothing was worse than a mouthful of pubes.
He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth and his fingers found their way into her hair. “Fuck. You’re driving me insane, babe.”
“I think I like it.” And she did. She freaking loved it.
As her fingers slid down his shaft, his chest rose and fell heavily, his muscles straining against his jacket.
“Okay, time’s up. My turn.”
Like she weighed nothing, Gage reached his hands to Abby’s sides and picked her up and whirled her around so her back was now pressed against the wall. His fingers dug into her hips, and he let out a low growl in her ear.
His lips were on her neck, kissing, sucking, nipping, completely merciless. A shudder rippled down her body, and she held on to him tighter, feeling as if she was losing her grip on reality. He dipped his hand into her skirt and slipped his finger along her panties. “You like turning me on?”
“Yes.”
“You going to do something about that?” He nodded down to his very prevalent erection as it pressed into her stomach.
“Maybe. You stopped me before I could get going, though.” Who the hell was she, that she was completely down with sucking a guy’s cock and giving him a handy in one day? This obviously must be an illness. Sex sickness. That was a real thing, right? It had to be, or else she’d gotten a little haphazard on washing her hands while traveling and was now infected with a brain-eating bacteria that turned her into a sex fiend. That was…less likely. Whatever it was, she couldn’t bring herself to care, because all she wanted was Gage’s hands on her, and for him to fix the need that ached between her thighs.
“And what did I say before?”
She thought for a moment, her brain still fuzzed over with must have Gage. Need now. “That you’re in charge?”
“Exactly. Let me take care of you,” he whispered in her ear.
All she could manage was an mmhmm as Gage turned her around so her ass was facing him. Her hands were splayed against the wall, and her cheek pressed against the cool concrete. He pushed up her skirt and a burst of cold air hit her thighs as the material whooshed past her ass, exposing her garter belt and panties.
“Hey.”
“I need you. Now,” he growled.
And with that, he grabbed the flimsy fabric of her panties and a light rip echoed through the stairwell as the fabric snapped beneath his hand.
His hands worked across her ass, kneading, groping, his thumb getting so close to places she’d never had touched before. She felt herself leaning into his touch, craving more, needing more. Everything just needed to be more. A sizzle started at the base of her spine and pulsed in toward her aching clit. They were out in the middle of a stairwell. Her best pair of panties were now as good as scrap yarn. If someone came through any of the doors… A shiver ran through her. The thought of someone happening upon the scene sent an unexpected jolt through her. Heck, let them see her with her ass shoved in the air.
Gage’s teeth grazed over the sensitive skin of her ass, his fingers smoothing up the backs of her thighs. “That’s right, bend over, sweetheart. Keep your hands on the wall.”
Every time he called her sweetheart, heat spread between her thighs. His slight drawl melted all coherent thoughts. Abby obliged and bent over move, and she gasped as one of Gage’s thick fingers rubbed across her slick center and entered her with ease. He groaned and added a second finger, working her, stretching her. “You’re so ready for me. Have you wanted this all night?” His fingers moved in measured circles along her sensitive, swollen skin. Her fingers dug into the wall as she worked at keeping her breathing steady. It was no use. Tiny pants started from her belly and left her fighting for air.
“Yes. Oh God, yes.”
“Oh, we’re just getting started. Don�
�t think you’re getting off just yet.” His fingers disappeared from her momentarily, and just as she was about to peer around her shoulder, she felt a stinging sensation, and a loud thwack echoed in the stairwell as Gage’s hand connected with the space where her ass and thigh met.
“Oh!” Pain rushed through her, along with a warmth that pulsed between her legs. Her thighs shook and her breaths came out short and jagged. If she looked around, she’d bet her ass would be pink with Gage’s palm print. Something about that was so dirty and delicious.
His fingers returned to her, and he groaned. “You are so fucking wet. You like being spanked, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she breathed out. She was finding she liked a lot of things she never knew she would before this weekend. She wished there was more time to explore things she’d been missing out on when it came to a man’s touch. Gage’s touch.
Again his hand bit into her ass, and she let out a moan. Pain mixed with sharp pleasure that radiated through her bones.
She turned around to look at him. Heat flamed in his eyes, and his tongue slid across his bottom lip. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him. Inside her. Filling her. Dominating her.
“Please. I need you,” she whimpered. The space between her thighs throbbed for him, almost to the point of being painful.
“So I’m allowed to help a lady in distress now?” A smirk crossed his smug face. What was it about him that was so damn charming that instead of wanting to smack him, she wanted to bend over farther? She was far worse off than originally thought. This connection she held with him—it hit deeper than just a sexual level. Something she’d been in search of for so long. And here it was in the form of Gage.
“Just this once,” she amended. Ugh, could she sound any more desperate? But that’s what he did to her—made her feel desperate in a way that could only be remedied by him.
Gage stood and pulled out his wallet and extracted a condom. Within seconds, he was protected and slid back up to Abby. His erection slicked across her center, and it was a minor miracle she kept upright. Everything—the feel of Gage’s weight pushed against her, the wall of muscles her body was pressed up against, the way his stubble grazed along her neck—it all sent her into a spiral.
With that, he guided his cock between her thighs, and she pressed her head against the concrete, unable to hold back a throaty moan.
“Fuck, you feel so right, Abby,” he growled. His fingers dug into her flesh and each time he rammed into her, she lost her breath a little more. She didn’t know if it was because he’d used her actual name, or the fact that this new angle was hitting just the right spot, or maybe it was a combination of things, but this was it—she knew she’d be ruined forever for other men. Damn Gage and his rough, calloused hands that fit perfectly around her waist. Damn it all to hell. She was so fucked. Literally and figuratively.
“Oh, Gage,” she cried out as he filled her. His words couldn’t have been truer. This felt right. She never wanted this bubble of paradise to end.
His hands slid up her stomach, palming her breasts, his fingers finding their way to her nipples. He rubbed them slowly, circling the sensitive buds, moving at the same tempo as he pumped in and out of her. It was maddening. Her sex pulsed against him as he took her higher. She squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed against him, seeking the release that was about to hurtle through her like a tidal wave.
Just as she was about to let go and give in to her climax, Gage’s hands left her chest and he pulled out. He flipped her around and regarded her with those intense honey eyes, his hands gripping her shoulders. “I need to see your face when you scream my name.” And with that, he swooped his hands under her ass, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he repositioned himself inside of her.
Lips pressed against lips, hands tangled in each other’s hair, and Abby didn’t know where her breath began and Gage’s ended. Concrete dug into her ass each time he pounded her into the wall, and the slapping of skin echoed in the stairwell.
“I can’t get enough of you.” His voice was strained and sounded as desperate as she felt. She couldn’t get enough of him, either. When tomorrow came, they’d be leaving in two separate planes headed to different parts of the country. This couldn’t be it. It just couldn’t.
Chapter Eleven
By the time they made it back to the penthouse, Abby’s legs felt as if they were made of gelatin, and she had a stupid smile slapped on her face. Gage had held her hand the entire way up, fingers laced together as he carried her piggyback up the last of the stairs, and hadn’t let go since they walked back into the suite. Not being able to take the flight back to L.A. and resume work at Yellow Raft should have left her in a sour mood, but if anything, she felt lighter than she had in years.
They collapsed on the couch in a sated daze, Abby’s head resting on his chest. She absentmindedly traced circles across his pecs, enjoying the warmth, the utter bliss she felt with his arms wrapped around her waist.
“Well, boss, what should we do?” she asked.
“Let’s check out that hot tub on the deck. I could use a little rest and relaxation for a few minutes.” He shot a lazy smile in her direction.
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”
“Didn’t, either.”
She nodded. Okay. Skinny-dipping should seem like a small concession when she just fucked a dude in a hotel stairwell. Plus, he’d been up close and personal with every inch of her. It wasn’t like he’d suddenly change his mind about her after what they just did.
He pushed off the couch and pulled his shirt over his head, exposing every inch of taut skin. The muscles in her belly clenched. The likelihood of her tiring of this sight hovered between never and when hell froze over.
Her shaky fingers pulled at the waist of her skirt, and she stepped out of it as it pooled on the floor. Gah. What was with all the nerves?
He’s seen you naked. Pull an Elsa and just Let it Go. Right. He’d treated her like a goddamn sex goddess—might as well fake the confidence of one. She was totally going to rock skinny-dipping in a hot tub.
Before she could think too hard, she removed the rest of her clothes and followed Gage out onto the blustery cold veranda. And immediately regretted the decision to disrobe before stepping outside.
“Fuck, it’s cold.” Gage quickly opened the lid of the hot tub and pushed it to the ground. “Up you go before you freeze.” He grabbed Abby by the waist and lifted her into the hot tub. Hot water licked at her goose-bumped flesh.
She didn’t bother making a big deal about being picked up. She’d spent so long fending for herself that it was nice to be taken care of for once. “Thanks.”
Gage hopped in with a surprising amount of grace for such a hulk of a man. He slid in beside her, and his hand immediately found her thigh. Her stomach coiled from the touch. She’d never describe herself as the touchy-feely type, but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe it just took the right man to bring out this need.
“This is so much better than work.” She sighed and rested her head against the back of the hot tub, her muscles in complete nirvana.
“Agreed.”
She shifted to look at him, at the way his eyelashes fanned over the tops of his cheeks. It was an obvious fact that she could never tire of looking at his face. Chiseled, stubbled perfection. “You always want to be an air marshal?”
“I was in the military before. Decided I wanted something a little less stressful after one of my tours.” The rough pads of his fingers skated across her skin. Her concentration went to absolute shit whenever his hands were on her.
“What about you? Always wanted to be a set scout?”
She nodded. “Not set scout, but definitely in the film industry. It incorporates my two favorite things: movies and traveling.” Even if she hated the whole flying thing.
“Sounds like a tough business. You have a favorite movie genre you like to scout for?”
“It’s a tossup between horror, western, or sci-fi.”
>
“Eclectic taste. I like it.” He continued massaging her thigh, and it took every ounce of energy to keep her mind on the conversation.
“Three things you’d bring with you on a deserted island.” She always found it interesting what people chose. It said a lot about someone.
“Besides a boat or a helicopter?”
She looked at him.
He smirked. “Okay, fine. A rain catcher, matches, and a tent.”
“All very practical.” Exactly what she’d expect from him. Logical, straight to the point, always got what he wanted. Seemed like he knew exactly what he wanted as soon as he sat down next to her on the flight to New York. And look where she was now. In a hot tub. Naked.
“Ten years in the service will do that to a man.”
“Do you miss it?” She liked this side of Gage, liked getting to know him more. The sex was mind-blowing, for sure, but it was always nice to be able to carry on a conversation with someone.
“What? The military?”
She nodded. It was a close call with which was hotter—him as an air marshal or him in BDUs.
“No. I did my time, and becoming an air marshal was a nice change of pace. Travel a lot more, but overall less stressful.”
With how often she traveled, she wondered if he’d ever been on a flight with her before. The chance of that was pretty slim, since there were thousands of flights every day. Would it ever happen again? She hoped to hell it would. After all, she was living in a fantasy world this weekend, so why couldn’t she fantasize about meeting up with him sometime in the future? Yep, she was officially delusional. That didn’t stop her from wanting to slam the metaphorical brakes on this weekend and live in this moment for a bit longer.
“What about you? What would you bring on a deserted island?”
Landing the Air Marshal (Snowpocalypse) Page 11