This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and organizations either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Ryleigh Sloan
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Spines and Designs
(spinesanddesigns.com)
To Gran.
Who I miss with all my heart, every single day.
Table Of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Connect with Me
Chapter One
I was giddy with excitement. Kevin had been away on location in Nepal for the last three months, which was the longest we’d gone without seeing one another. But worse than that, for the last two months we hadn’t even had an opportunity to talk on the phone, or text, for that matter. Now that he was nearly here, I couldn’t wait a minute longer.
Alison placed the yellow tulips on the coffee table in the charter lounge and looked over at me, her green eyes sparkling with barely contained enthusiasm. “That’s the last of them.” She blew her auburn curls out of her eyes. “Do celebrities always have such crazy demands?”
I looked around the lounge and stifled a smile. A dozen bunches of tulips dotted every available surface and Turkish Delights lined a bowl next to a bottle of lime milkshake.
I hid the smile tugging at my lips. “This is nothing.”
I’d had requests from celebs demanding specific temperatures, darkened rooms, and the removal of everything green. Just then, the radio crackled with a request for landing followed promptly with the go-ahead from the tower and I found myself walking towards the tarmac outside our charter lounge.
My father started Addington Air when I was three years old. Twenty-four years later and I still got a thrill from watching the planes come in to land. It had always been my dream to work for my father’s company. Not because I was unambitious and wanted a free ride, but because I couldn’t imagine any other job. The thrill I got from piecing together adventures for high-end clients was something I doubt I’d ever get from working out my Marketing and Communications degree at some stuffy corporate company.
I loved the planning and watching it all come together. No two adventures were the same. Make no mistake, it was a demanding job with no real office hours and not all clients appreciated it. Dealing with the world’s richest people gave you a completely different perception of their lives. Often people envied them, but I didn’t. Not one bit. When you can have everything you want at the drop of a hat, people lose perspective. They expect everything when they want it and don’t care about the cost. I’m not talking monetary cost, but cost as in what they lost in the process. I watched people experience adventures of a lifetime with not the slightest glimmer of happiness in their eyes, and that made me sad. Today though…today, it was impossible to be sad.
“Do I get to know who Mr. Fancy is now?” Alison came up next to me and nudged me with her shoulder.
Addington Air prided itself on anonymity for its clients. It was why we had built such a great reputation and why my father had made such a success of the business. Clients knew that when they booked with Addington Air they wouldn’t have to worry about the paparazzi or the press. That meant that only my parents, my sister, and I knew who the clients were, none of the other staff knew who was being chartered until the route was complete and even then they all signed NDAs.
“There he is now.” I indicated with my head as a dark-haired guy stepped off the plane. Even with the sunglasses covering his eyes it was impossible not to recognise who was disembarking.
“Oh. My. God. Is that Kevin Peyton?”
Just then he looked up, a sexy-as-all-hell crooked grin spreading over his face as he walked down the aircraft stairs in dark denim, a leather jacket, and white tee that left little doubt as to his hard body underneath. I walked towards him, my stomach tripping, but I told myself it was just excitement over not seeing my childhood friend for months. Strong arms enfolded me and scooped me off the ground. I heard Alison gasp when Kevin planted a huge smacking kiss on my lips.
“Damn, I’ve missed you,” he groaned, squeezing the air out of my lungs before setting my feet back on the tarmac.
“I’ve missed you, too.” With his arms wrapped around my shoulders, he walked me towards the charter lounge—since he’d pretty much grown up here with me he knew his way around. We entered the lounge with Alison gaping after us.
“Ah, I see you got my list of demands.”
I rolled my eyes. “We did. Are you that guy now?”
He took off his glasses and grey eyes met mine as he flashed me a grin that just about made poor Alison expire on the spot. “Why am I doing all this if I can’t throw in a couple of demands every now and then?” He squeezed me tighter to him. “Besides, I know this gal who is crazy about tulips, Turkish Delights, and lime milkshakes and I was hoping to butter her up so I can have a place to stay.”
I laughed. “You can afford a hotel room, Mr. Oscar-nominated actor.”
I was surprised to see a blush creep up his neck as he waved me off. “Yeah, but then I don’t get to spend time with my bestie. I brought you something.” Kevin reached into his jacket pocket and produced a frog Beanie Baby.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Haha, very funny.”
“C’mon, you have to admit he’s cute.” A mischievous smirk spread over his face.
“I don’t care how cute he is. He’s still a frog.” Frogs were my nemesis, my fear of them deeply rooted since childhood. People didn’t get my frog phobia. They were constantly telling me my fear was silly and it’s about time I got over myself, but I just couldn’t and no matter how many times I tried to explain that it wasn’t a switch I could flip on and off, the more they scoffed. Kevin understood though, but he wasn’t above teasing me about it every now and then. He was the one person I put up with that from.
A woman in skinny jeans and a t-shirt walked over to us, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. She looked fresh-faced and full of energy as she extended her hand to me.
“You must be Claire, I’m Savannah. We spoke over the phone.”
“Hi, Savannah, nice to finally meet you. This is my colleague, Alison. Alison, this is Kevin Peyton and his personal assistant, Savannah.” They all shook hands, and although I knew Alison was nervous, she handled her first VIP introduction like a pro. Alison had only been with us for a couple of months and I figured introducing her to my best friend was the best way to ease her in.
“How was the trip?” I tried to extricate myself from Kevin’s hold but he pulled me a little tighter to him and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Perfect,” he said. “Just perfect. You did well, Claire-Bea
r.”
Alison wasn’t exactly gaping anymore but her raised eyebrows were shooting silent questions that I knew I’d have to answer later. I could tell Savannah was just as curious, but she kept whatever she was thinking, to herself. “Kevin’s right, the entire trip was perfect.”
“I’m happy to hear that. We have a car waiting to take you to the hotel. Would you like to take a seat until your baggage is offloaded?”
“Thank you, that would be lovely.”
“Can I get you a drink?” I offered.
“Do you have sparkling water?” Savannah walked over to the dark leather seat, plopped down and pulled a novel from the bag she was carrying. I loved that she was casual and unpretentious. Often assistants had a bigger stick up their butts than the actual celebrities, but I could see why Kevin had hired Savannah—she was just like him.
Thankfully, Alison realised that I couldn’t extract myself from Kevin’s hold and she got the water for Savannah.
“What time do you get off?” Kevin asked.
“As soon as Savannah is on her way to the hotel.”
“Indian or pizza?”
“You buying?”
“If I can sleep on your couch?”
I smiled at him, feeling happier than I’d been in weeks.
“If you insist.”
* * *
The butter chicken arrived and we tucked in while Kevin filled me in on his latest film. He’d always been talented, having been involved in the film programme in high school and later performed at the Civic Theatre in his spare time. At twenty-four, one of his performances made it onto YouTube and went viral. No matter his late start to acting (late by Hollywood standards), Kevin was massively successful. In five years, he’d filmed six movies and had now been nominated for his first Oscar.
Kevin indulged my thousands of questions, telling me about life on location and filming eighteen-hour days with almost no contact with the outside world and no access to technology, while sitting on my living room floor with me.
I took a sip of my wine and placed the glass back on the acacia wood coffee table.
“So what’s life like now that you’re an Oscar-nominated actor?”
He forked a mouthful of chicken into his mouth and chewed. “Things are different. It gets kinda lonely. Everyone around you is either being nice to you so you don’t see the knife they’re holding or they think you can get them places, y’know? I miss you when I’m away, Claire-Bear. You get me. They get who they want to see.”
I nodded my head. I got it, I really did. Kevin was the only person I could completely be myself with. We got each other on a level no one else did.
“Seeing anyone?” A lot could happen in two months and I was curious.
His mouth pulled into a smirk. “Seeing anyone or fucking anyone?”
I laughed. “Aren’t they the same thing?”
“You of all people should know that’s not true.”
I took another sip of wine to disguise my smile.
“Well? Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, you know how it is. You go on a couple of dates and women just expect you to become mutually exclusive. Even the ones who swear they’re not in it for the relationship always have a change of heart.”
“No, I don’t know. I don’t go on dates with women,” I teased.
He rolled up his paper napkin and lobbed it at me. “You know what I mean.”
“So you’re celibate now?”
He cocked a brow. “Yes. Let’s fix that!” He took another pull of his beer. “Come here.”
My stomach clenched at his words. It was always that way with Kevin. Every. Single. Time.
I couldn’t remember exactly when we’d started with the benefits side of our friendship, but the arrangement suited us both perfectly. Neither of us wanted the commitment of a relationship and since we didn’t have a great track record with casual sex, we found it easier to get what we needed from each other. The ease of our friendship made it a safe, fun way to fulfil our needs. Kevin knew me inside and out, and vice versa.
I scooted over to him and he tugged me so I straddled his lap. His grey eyes roved my body like I was a delicacy he’d been craving. His nostrils flared and he pulled my hips into him. The crotch of his jeans rubbed against my swollen sex and a stifled moan escaped me. I watched his pupils dilate with desire. Running his hands up my back, he slid them into my hair and pulled me to him for a kiss. His lips touched mine ever so gently, his tongue whispered over my bottom lip and then he tugged gently with his teeth. His scent, a heady musk, captivated me and heat pulsed between my legs.
I hadn’t realised till then how much I missed what he could do to my body.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he said against my lips. His tongue pushed into my mouth and mashed with mine. Gone were the sweet gentle kisses, replaced by demanding, claiming plunges of our tongues. My hips rocked against his, desperate to feel more of him, to relieve the aching build.
“Lean back, I want to touch you.” I leaned back, resting my hands on his legs as he slowly loosened the button of my jeans and slid the zip down at an excruciatingly slow pace. Never taking his eyes off mine, he slipped his hand into my jeans, teasing the top of my panties as he grazed his teeth over his bottom lip. I wanted his fingers on me, needed to feel them against my swollen flesh. He slipped a hand into my panties, brushing my smooth flesh and he hissed in a breath when he found me hot and wet for him. Sliding two fingers inside me, Kevin rubbed my clit with the pad of his thumb.
“Oh God,” I moaned, rocking my hips into his hand. He crushed his lips to mine, teeth softly scraping against mine in the heat. I was lost. I reached for his belt, unable to wait a moment longer to have him inside me. He slid his fingers from my heat and coated my lips with my juices. My tongue darted out of my mouth and I tasted myself. His head fell back and he groaned, then his mouth assaulted mine once more. The taste of his tongue and my arousal a heady cocktail, one I was sure I’d never get enough of. He frowned, but when I slid my jeans down my legs, his lips curled and his eyes burned into mine. I didn’t take my eyes off his; I was never shy around him. It was impossible to be when he looked at me the way he did—like I was the most beautiful piece of art and he was branding everything about me onto his brain.
My jeans and panties removed, I started working on my top, slowly undoing my shirt button by button. He licked his lips when I was left standing in my deep-purple demi bra. As I unclipped the front clasp, he stood up so fast I took a step back, blinking in surprise. His fingers swept the straps off my shoulders and he caressed the skin down my arms in the wake of the straps. He brushed my chocolate-brown hair off my shoulder and sucked gently at the sensitive skin. I reached for the waistband of his jeans, tugging him to me and then worked the buttons of his Levi’s. My eyes shot to his when I realised he wasn’t wearing any underwear and he responded with a salacious grin. Kevin cupped my face and kissed softly along my jaw while I worked to undress him. Once his jeans were in a puddle at his feet, he lifted his hands over his head and I pulled his t-shirt up as far as I could. He chuckled when I couldn’t get it over his arms.
“Short shit.”
I didn’t respond to his tease, I was too busy taking in his body. This guy had abs that made you want to trace them with your tongue.
He placed his hands on my hips and took a step back and sat down on the couch. I watched as he took himself in hand and slowly stroked his length. God, he was unbelievably sexy. Placing my knees once again on either side of him, I lowered myself until his cock was positioned against the entrance of my pussy. Slowly, inch by exquisite inch, I took him into me before I sheathed him completely. I moaned at the feel of him stretching and filling me, the pleasure absolute. I couldn’t hold back anymore, riding him with frantic need.
His mouth found mine as his tongue plunged between my lips with the same punishing rhythm with which I was taking him into me. I felt the clench, the burn spreading through me, consuming me. I wanted this to las
t but felt my body quicken. He cupped my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. My body bucked and trembled as I rocked myself onto him. His hands roved my skin, worshipping my body while my orgasm tore through me. Moments later his fingers dug into my hips, hard enough to let me know he was losing control but gentle enough not to leave marks. His groan rippled out of him as his stomach clenched and he released into me, leaning forward so he could pull my body flush against his.
Long moments passed while we attempted to catch our breath. He stroked my naked back with his fingers, punctuating the silence with gentle kisses to my neck. Eventually, I slid off his lap and he walked to the room to grab something comfortable to wear. When he came back he was in a pair of sweats and I had my panties and his shirt on. He sat down and patted his leg and I scooted across the couch and lay my head in his lap, soaking up the contentment I always felt while I was in his arms. The last thing I remembered as I fell asleep was the feel of his hands stroking my hair and his lips gently kissing my temple.
Chapter Two
Kevin pulled into a parking space next to the clubhouse and we made our way up the sculpted path, past beautifully landscaped lawns decorated with garden gnomes and ceramic bunnies and a weird wire Springbok that looked so out of place as to be amusing. My grandfather had chosen the retirement village where my gran lived for its location as well as the facilities. The clubhouse, true to its name, housed many clubs, a book club being one of them and as was typical of book clubs, was more a wine club than a reading club.
However, it was more the on-site nursing staff that was the selling factor for my grandfather, which ironically my grandparents never needed. My grandfather died in a boating accident at Hartbeespoort Dam two years ago and my gran was the healthiest person I knew. Whether it was the green sludge she drank every morning or good genes, I couldn’t tell, but I was rooting for good genes. Regardless, knowing she had a panic button for any emergency was a great comfort to me now that she was living alone.
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