Flying High (Davis Brothers Book 2)

by Nicole Douglas

  If we could build a small addition we could add a woman’s facility, keeping everyone separated to avoid sexual distractions.

  The type of distractions I liked to cause Chris. Like rubbing my hand up his thighs in the hospital last week.

  I went to the clinic with him yesterday to have his stitches removed and everything seemed to be healing. He had a pink scar about three inches long on his lower abdomen and I was grateful the glass hadn’t sliced through any vital organs.

  He was still a bit sore and stiff but the doctor said that was normal. The bruises on his forehead and tiny cuts on his face from the shattered glass had healed. They were superficial and shallow wounds, not even leaving behind any traces of a scarring.

  If you looked close enough at his tanned skin you could make out some bruising around his forehead where his head collided with the steering wheel. But for the most part he was almost back to normal.

  It was crazy to think he was walking around perfectly fine after the accident he was in. He could’ve ended up paralyzed or worse. He could have ended up dead. The thought still sent chills down my spine. His car was completely totaled and he had been inside, trapped and at the mercy of an unseen force that determined his fate.

  Thankfully he got away with a mild concussion, the three inch cut on his stomach and a bit tongue. That’s where all the blood in his mouth had come from, staining his shirt and effectively scaring the shit out of me.

  He complained more about his tongue than anything else throughout this ordeal. He was still avoiding salty foods and any liquid that was too hot. That included coffee and fries, two of his favorite things.

  We each order water and wait for the potential investor to show. Our chairs are facing the door so we can eagerly watch for his arrival. We got here a bit early to snag a good table. I snack on the bread we ordered as an appetizer and stir the lemon into my water. Chris wisely avoids the bread, not wanting to burn the hell out of his tongue with the salty butter melted over the top.

  A man walks through the front door and stops at the hostess station. I feel the blood drain from my face at the sight of him. That can’t be the investor. There’s no way my luck could be that shitty. Please god, let it be anyone but him.

  I turn to Chris, feeling horrified and hoping the man won’t see me, only to find him beaming in excitement.

  “There he is.” He says, not noticing my reaction yet.

  The hostess points the man in our direction and he begins weaving through the crowded room toward our table. This was the worst way this day could turn out. He’s a former customer of mine. A married, demeaning, sick and twisted customer.

  I couldn’t do this. No fucking way.

  “I can’t meet with him.” I whisper frantically to Chris, pushing back my chair and getting ready to haul ass out of here. “I’m sorry.”

  My eyes dart around, looking for the closest exit where I can avoid passing by him. Chris places a hand on my arm to stop me from running away and hiding in the bathroom until this douche bag leaves.

  I couldn’t face him again. He would remember me and remember how low I’ve stooped for money in the past. Remember how he had the upper hand over me.

  I had been less appreciated than gum on the bottom of his dress shoes back then. That wasn’t likely to change all of a sudden. It would affect this whole business deal. There’s no way he would respect me as a business associate after the positions he’s seen me in.

  Not to mention my dignity can’t handle the hit. What if he asked me for sex to make the deal? This is so humiliating. Would Chris want me to do whatever it took to make this work, self-respect be damned?

  “Wait, what? What do you mean?” He asks, clearly confused. “He’s offering us five hundred thousand dollars, Natalie.”

  “I can’t.”

  I tug my arm again and he loosens his grip but doesn’t completely let go. The man is getting closer to our table and my panic reaches a peak. He’s only a couple tables away from us now and my window for escaping without notice is closing fast.

  Chris looks closely into my panicked eyes and sees how serious I am. He knows this is a big deal for me or I wouldn’t back out now. I wouldn’t ruin his deal over nothing. That just wasn’t like me.

  “Okay.” He starts to say something more but by that time the man arrives at our table and reaches across to shake Chris’s hand.

  I completely freeze and lower my head, refusing to look at him. Hoping he doesn’t recognize me if I don’t look up. Maybe he hasn’t noticed me and I can at least postpone the inevitable.

  Fear of being humiliated brews in the pit of my stomach and eats away at my esophagus. Was I going to throw up right here at the table? That was a surefire way to get his attention if I didn’t already have it.

  Maybe he won’t recognize me at all. Even if he does, at least I won’t have to see the arrogant and chauvinistic look on his face as he peruses my body if I keep my eyes glued on the floor. I silently wish I had chosen a dress with less cleavage. Lacey has chosen this when we went shopping together and insisted I looked great in it.

  I didn’t want to look great in front of this guy. All my old insecurities and issues came rushing back, crashing over my heart and soul like the waves breaking on the sand.

  Their hands clasp in a handshake but Chris keeps glancing down at me. He’s worried about my reaction, there’s no doubt about it. It’s odd for me to be quiet and subdued. The only time I have been was around his brother and that was also out of humiliation and regret.

  He seems to connect the dots between the two situations because he immediately releases the handshake and stiffens. His chest puffs out a bit as he places his hand on the small of my back.

  “Sorry, man. Something’s come up. We won’t need the funding after all. I appreciate your time and offer but we’re going to decline.”

  My head snaps up so fast I’m afraid I’ll give myself whiplash. He’s canceling the meeting. Turning down the investment opportunity based solely on the fact that I was uncomfortable as fuck and didn’t want to be here. He didn’t even know why yet.

  No questions asked, the meeting was over. For me.

  The guy seemed as taken aback as I was. Neither of us has time to react before Chris grabs my hand and leads me out the front door, leaving the investor sitting at our table with the bill for my appetizer.

  My car is parked right at the front of the restaurant and he gently guides me to the passenger seat with his hand still resting low on my back as a gesture of comfort and support. He waits expectantly once I’m seated and I hand him my keys, too flustered to drive. He pulls his seatbelt on, miraculously without being told, and waits for me to do the same.

  “The roles have reversed. You’re the safety police now.” I mumble jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

  The accident scared the shit out of me. It was good to know he had learned a lesson from the experience and didn’t need to be harassed to put his seatbelt on anymore. The doctors and paramedics had told him that without his seatbelt that day he would have been ejected from the windshield when it shattered. He would have likely been killed instantly when he hit the pavement.

  Basically my nagging about seatbelts and road safety had saved his life. But I digress.

  We ride back home from the restaurant without him asking about my mini meltdown and I’m grateful for the lack of questioning. I feel like shit for ruining his deal but my relief of being away from that guy is noticeable. Palpable. It isn’t something I can deny or hide from him, he knows my mannerisms and reactions a little too well for that.

  By ten that night we still hadn’t talked about me fleeing from our investment deal. We carefully avoided the topic and spent the day together kicking back and binging on Rocky Road, killer whale documentaries, keeping things light and fun.

  I was sworn to secrecy about him cheating on his diet yet again. I highly doubt Max would harp on the damn diet right now anyway. Not after almost losing his brother. I saw how terrified he
had been after the accident when we weren’t sure what the outcome would be. Chris could probably do no wrong right now in Max’s eyes

  Hell, he was upset enough to make a truce with me. Now that was extreme.

  When I’m ready for bed I say goodnight to Chris and we both go to our separate bedrooms. But after I change into my pajamas and he strips down to boxers and brushes his teeth he finds his way to my bed.

  I don’t protest when he lifts the blankets and climbs in behind me, pulling me close to his chest to cuddle. It’s our nightly routine by now although we haven’t verbally acknowledged it.

  He’s found his way to my bed every night this week since he was released from the hospital. And every night we spooned and talked until we fell asleep.

  I’ve honestly never slept better, more peacefully, in my life.

  Rolling to face him I snuggle into the crook of his neck. He chuckles and squirms back. Spurred on by his reaction I pull him close and nestle into his ticklish spot again. There’s a brief struggle while we both laugh and fight for a truce.

  He lets me rest my cheek on his bare chest. Heat seeps from his skin through mine and I’m warmed by him straight through to my bones. My freezing toes feel like icicles so I press them against his calves.

  “God damn, you’re freezing.” He complains but moves his legs over my cold feet in an effort to warm them up, trapping my feet between his calves.

  I smile and relish in having a human heating blanket wrapped around me for the night. He reaches up and pushes the hair from my face, meeting my eyes in the dark. I’m bare of any makeup. Ordinarily that would make me feel naked and vulnerable.

  With Chris it felt just right.

  “Thank you for what you did today at lunch.” I whisper. “That meant a lot to me.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  A beat of silence passes before I decide to share with him why I ruined his investment deal today. I owed him an explanation after his blind loyalty and inclination to look out for me even when he didn’t know why he was doing it. It had mattered to me, therefore it mattered to him.

  “He used to be a customer.”

  His arms squeeze around me tighter. “Don’t worry about him.”

  “I’m sorry I messed up your deal. He’s just…I just can’t be around him. He was so terrible.”

  “It’s ok baby. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

  “But your business deal-”

  “Doesn’t mean more to me than you. The treatment center is our thing. If you’re not on board with something then neither am I.”

  I’m mesmerized by his sweet words and inch closer to him. I simply can’t get close enough. He licks his bottom lip and glances down at mine.

  I know what’s coming. Know where his thoughts had strayed for him to look down at my mouth. This wasn’t my first rodeo but my heart pattered wildly in suspense. Time slows as he bows his head. His minty breath fans over my lips, pausing to give me the chance to pull back if that’s what I wanted.

  It wasn’t.

  Closing the distance between us, I softly pressed my lips against his. A slow heat unfolds deep in the pit of my stomach. It travels outward, along my nerve endings all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

  He cups my cheek gently and urges me to open for him. My tongue has a mind of its own and strokes against his without my permission. More heat floods my chest and between my legs. I moan into his mouth in response to the surge of sensations.

  The sound of my moan must set a fire in him because within seconds he has me on my back, straddling me to the mattress. He kisses me with unrestrained passion, releasing everything that’s been slowly building up between us over the years.

  His energy transfers from his lips to mine.

  We’re feeling the same spark. The same infatuation boils between us and we melt into each other’s bodies, pressed together so closely a sheet of paper couldn’t fit between us.

  I’ve never had a kiss like this. Never felt so revered or desired, not even during sex. His kiss did more to me and stirred more desire than any other experience in my entire life. It’s erotic, it’s hot and it belongs solely to the two of us.

  We had danced around each other for years and it was finally coming together in this explosion of tender passion.

  He takes his time nibbling on my bottom lip, running his tongue across my lip and then jutting out deeper into my mouth to cautiously taste.

  Fingers tangle in my hair to hold me in place and tilt my head for a better angle. The kiss deepens and we stay intertwined in each other, kissing and innocently exploring each other’s mouths.

  Time passes but I couldn’t tell you how long. I’m too consumed in Chris and his affectionate touch. No groping hands. No sex. No pressure. Just the sweetest of kisses that I only ever dreamed of tasting from his lips.

  It’s the most PG night I’ve ever had and it’s everything I imagined finally kissing Chris would be and more. He doesn’t try to turn it into more than a kiss, although I can feel the evidence of his desire pressing into my thigh.

  If I wanted to we could take it all the way tonight. Experience all the pleasure we could create with our bodies. But I still wasn’t ready yet and he seemed to sense that.

  We spend the night this way, kissing with reckless abandon until the sun streams through my blinds, signaling the start of a new day.

  Strangely enough I’m not exhausted the way I would have guessed after a night without a blink of sleep. Instead I’m energized and exhilarated all day. Thinking back to our kiss and hoping for a repeat when we get home from work is like having a shot of espresso, waking me up and giving me the energy I need to push through the rest of the day.

  ☠　Chapter Fifteen ☠

  Chris

  One taste of Natalie and I was hooked. Couldn’t get enough of the sweetness of her lips. I found myself stealing kisses in the hallway at the treatment center when I should’ve been at my desk submitting insurance billing requests.

  We were hardly ever alone at work but on the rare occasions we were I had her back pressed against the wall with my tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. We weren’t getting shit done all day between the kissing and then thinking about kissing again when we were forced to break free or risk being seen by my employees.

  In a moment of heated frustration I thought about firing everyone so we could have the place to ourselves. I couldn’t give two shits if one of them saw us devouring each other but Nat cared. The thought of everyone here looking at her differently and whispering to each other that she was fucking the boss bothered her. I got that but it didn’t stop me from wanting to pounce her during the workday.

  The moment we got in her car in the evening I grabbed her hand, kissing her wrist and licking circles on her pulse point until she pulled over to the side of the road to throw her arms around my neck and dive in lips first.

  We were like a couple of horny teenagers sneaking around and making out every second we spent together. Except we lived and worked together, so every second we spent together was literally every second of the day.

  I was falling for her.

  To say I was falling fast would have been a lie because the truth was this thing between us had been slowly building and burning hotter each year that passed. But I was falling hard. Hard and deep into the abyss and unable to climb out of it.

  I didn’t really want to either.

  I stifle a monstrous yawn and finish downing the last bit of coffee I brewed this morning. Max will be here knocking any minute, ready for our morning run. It’s my first run since the accident and as hard as it is to admit this, I missed it. Missed the burn in my thighs and the endorphin release.

  I was feeling sluggish and lazy without our regular exercise. No way in hell would I ever admit that to my brother. Plus I need to jog off some of this pent up sexual energy. Another thing I wouldn’t be admitting to my brother anytime soon.

  Nat wasn’t ready for anything more than what
we had already done. And that was one hundred and ten percent okay with me. I could wait and I would. There was no other option because I didn’t want any other girl besides her.

  So I had to take matters into my own hands but that only did so much. A hand was decent enough in a bind but I was beating off damn near every morning in the shower and sometimes again in the bathroom midday when watching her sashaying down the hall from my office after a heated kiss became too much to ignore.

  All men did it.

  And I did it a hell of a lot since the last time I had sex was over a year ago. But since I’ve tasted Nat’s lips and had my hands all over her body? I couldn’t relieve the ache. No sooner than I would bust she would walk by in her sexy shorts that showcased her mile long legs, giving me a heated smirk and I was hardening again.

  There’s a predictable knock at the door and I rinse out my coffee cup, grab a bottle of water and head out for our jog. Max babies me halfway to the omelet bar and I start to get pissed at being handled with kid gloves.

  “Are you okay?” He asks for the millionth time, stopping on the sidewalk to talk a small sip of his water. “We can take a break if you want.”

  I’ve ran with him enough times to recognize it as an excuse to stop. He means well but I can handle a mile run. My stitches were removed and the doctor cleared me for physical activities.

  Jogging and sex were green lighted and I was trying to use one to forget the other.

  “No. What are you doing?” I ask in exasperation. “You’re supposed to be a slave driver. That’s how this works. I complain and you push me to keep going.”

  “I just want to cut you some slack. I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  “If you wanted to cut me some slack you should’ve done it the first time you forced me to run.” Back when I begged to ride to the donut shop instead and almost passed out from coughing up a lung. “I don’t need it now. I could outrun you.”

  Max says, “Doubtful.”

  “Bet.”

  We both take off running full speed down the sidewalk, racing to see who can make it to breakfast first. We laugh loudly like a couple of kids as we call out stupid taunts to each other. We’re neck and neck until the sign for the omelet bar comes into view. Max pushes himself when he sees that as the finish line and beats me by a millisecond.