by Onne Andrews
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events in this story are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Take Me
ISBN-13 - 978-1-938745-18-8
Copyright 2013 by Onné Andrews
All rights reserved
Published by Angry Sheep Publishing
Houston, Texas
Smashwords Edition
Photography by lenetstan
Cover design by Onné Andrews
For Anisa and the older hero of her heart.
Take Me
Onné Andrews
Chapter One
I scowled at the raindrops pounding against the concourse window. The thunder growled in return. With the hidden sun setting, the sky shifted from angry blue-gray to charcoal. I’d scheduled my flight a day early to avoid arriving wrinkled and frumpy at tomorrow’s interview.
Instead, I was trapped in Atlanta. My flight out of Logan had been delayed thanks to the early morning snowfall in Boston, and I’d missed my connection to Florida. But with this storm, Mother Nature seemed determined to screw me out of my backup flight. If I wanted to be the CEO who would take Radcliffe Software global, I had to be in Tampa.
The fine hairs on the back of my neck rose, and my scalp tingled in a way that had nothing to do with the impressive electrical display outside. The other passenger waiting in the airline’s Gold Club suite was staring at my ass again.
I had to give him credit. He was a little more subtle about checking me out than most men.
And it wasn’t like I hadn’t examined him in return as he pleasantly, but insistently, discussed the possibilities of our plane taking off before tomorrow morning with the concierge.
I estimated him to be in his mid- to late-forties, but he kept himself fit from the way his trousers hugged his ass. His full head of salt-and-pepper hair would be a distinguished silver within the next decade. He had one of those faces that grew into its masculinity as he aged. I suspected he’d been too pretty in his twenties for my taste. But now…
I turned around to test my memory against reality. At least, he would give me a pleasant image to use in the shower later. Assuming we didn’t drown in Atlanta tonight.
His polite smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. The dark frames he’d donned to review the paperwork he held emphasized his pale blue irises. “Doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon.”
“No.” I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. A couple of swipes revealed a swirl of red, yellow and green on the weather radar. “Great. There’s a high-pressure system sitting on the coast, holding this front in place. They expect another couple inches of rain over the next three hours.”
His low chuckle sent tingles from my head to places that hadn’t tingled in years. After the disaster of my marriage, I had begun to wonder if I’d ever feel sexual attraction again.
He closed the folder and slid it into his carry-on. “It doesn’t look like I’m getting home tonight.”
“They haven’t started cancelling yet.” But as I gestured at the flight numbers displayed on the board behind the concierge’s podium, the first bright red “CANCELLED” replaced “DELAYED” on the screen. “Well, crap.”
He stood and stalked over to the concierge, who tried very hard not to shrink under his looming presence. “Can we save some time, and you arrange for my hotel room now?”
“I can’t until they cancel your flight to Tampa, sir,” she squeaked.
I had to give him credit. Most travelers would have launched into a blistering tirade even though the poor girl couldn’t control the airlines, much less the weather. Instead, he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“So you’re on the same flight as me?” I said.
The concierge shot me a grateful look, but my question was for my own benefit. I pursued the job in Tampa because I desperately needed to take some chances in my stalled career.
I knew I needed to take chances in other areas of my life as well. I hadn’t dated since the divorce, much less had a man between my legs in six years. He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. There was no telltale line on his fourth finger. And I really wanted him to seduce me, or think that he was.
I wanted to fuck him.
No, I wanted to feel alive again.
“246 to Tampa Bay that was supposed to leave an hour ago?” His polite smile was back, but this time it had an assessing quality.
Heat seeped into my pussy. I struggled to keep my reactions in check. “Unfortunately.”
Something wicked flashed behind his eyes. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“I don’t know.” I drawled out the words. Not because I was unsure about his invitation. I was absolutely sure I wanted to do more than share a meal with this gentleman. “I don’t want your family to sue me if you’re poisoned by airport food.”
“I’m willing to take the chance if you are.” His smile flared into something more than polite. “Ian.” He held out his hand.
“Lacy.” I grasped his palm. An image of those large hands on my naked ass flashed through my brain.
Light blue eyes stared into mine, so pale they would appear white in the right light. They contrasted well with his tan. He didn’t spend every minute of his life behind a desk. His touch lingered on my skin a moment longer than appropriate before he slid his glasses into his breast pocket.
“So I can’t entice you with questionable dining choices?” He leaned a little closer, deliberately invading my personal space.
I didn’t step back. Instead, I stared out the window for a second. Between the gloom and the rain, I couldn’t see the directional lights on the tarmac. Everything was uncertain. Bleary.
Just like my life right now. Maybe I needed to race through that darkness to find the light on the other side.
I turned back to Ian and smiled. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
* * *
The slight pressure of Ian’s hand on the small of my back guided me through the crowded hallways. I relished the contact for more than the feelings he aroused in me.
Voices rose as more brilliant red “CANCELLED” statuses popped up on the boards. Airline employees kept pleasant expressions embedded in their faces while their fingers danced on keyboards, trying to reschedule irate passengers. The little restaurant Ian steered me toward seemed an oasis of calm amid a seething mob of frustration.
Instead of the typical airport bar and grill, this nook looked like a four-star restaurant. Snowy linens lined the tables. Silverware sparkled under the subdued lighting. Real water glasses stood guard at each place setting.
Despite the tense hubbub in the airport corridors, few people were in this restaurant. The hostess immediately seated us with menus. When she left, I found myself at a loss for words.
It had been so damn long since I’d flirted or made small talk with an attractive stranger. Hell, I wasn’t even this nervous about tomorrow’s interview. My impulse to take him to bed seemed ridiculous now.
The server poured our water. Ian asked for another minute, then laid down his menu. “Thank you for saying yes. I’m a little rusty at inviting a beautiful woman to dinner.”
I realized I was staring at him and set down my menu. “That’s a good line. I haven’t heard that one before.” Great. My sarcasm was turned up to full. I wanted to kick myself for letting my insecurities with men get the better of me. I reached for my glass.
“How long ago was your divorce?”
I choked on the liquid in my mouth. Somehow, I kept from spewing water across the table. “How-how—” I couldn’t find any more words to refute his spot-on evaluation.
A wry smile quirked th
e corners of his mouth. “I recognize the self-defense mechanism. Used it myself more times than I care to count.”
“How long has it been for you?”
“Thirteen years.”
I blinked. How could someone as good-looking as Ian run free for that long? “Does it get easier?”
He shrugged. “She left me with two kids to raise. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it.” He leaned closer. “But I swore once my son was in college, I would start dating again.”
“You haven’t dated since your divorce?” I laughed. “I find that hard to believe. Hell, I find it hard to believe anyone would leave someone as—” Heat blasted my cheeks at what I’d almost said.
He chuckled. “You know the cliché about the wife who busts her ass to put her husband through medical school, then he dumps her? It works in reverse, too.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged again. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
I didn’t want to talk about my past. I’d worked too hard to put it behind me. But his gaze penetrated my soul, like he already knew my secrets.
“Five years, and mine was the typical cliché. He was doing the company’s college intern on his desk at the office.”
“Ouch.” His hand covered mine and squeezed it. His offer of sympathy didn’t seem as condescending as my friends, or former friends, had been. “Kids?”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “No, thank god. We talked about it. But we were both focused on our careers, and he said it would make the traveling we wanted to do difficult, impossible even.”
“Let me guess. The two of you never went anywhere.”
“No.” I stared at Ian’s hand. His heat seeped into my skin, joined with the energy surging along my nerves. I wanted, needed, deserved something pleasurable in my life, dammit.
His lips parted. I desperately wanted him to say, “Let’s find somewhere private.”
The moment evaporated at the return of our server to rattle off the evening’s specials.
“Would you like a bottle of wine?” Ian asked.
I held up a hand. “No, thank you. I have a business meeting tomorrow morning.” The semi-truth rolled off my tongue with ease. I didn’t want Ian feeling pressured if he knew I might be moving to Tampa. This would just be a fling. A one-night stand.
Except I’d never had a one-night stand in my life.
We ordered dinner. After our big confessions, we stuck to small talk. Sports. Current events. This crappy weather.
All through the meal, we both found excuses to touch each other. My fingertips lingered on his when we both reached for the pepper. His calf brushed against my shin as he stretched.
We playfully wrestled for the bill, but the way one of his massive hands encircled both of my wrists as he snatched the slip of paper from my grasp layered a new edge to what had been semi-innocent flirting.
He didn’t release me. He watched me instead, gauging every reaction with that piercing look.
God, help me, I didn’t want him to let go either. I wanted him to hold me down, rip off my panties and have his way with me on the table.
From the gleam in his eyes, the same scenario ran through his mind.
“Let’s get out of here.” His low voice left no doubt of his intent. He released my wrists, pulled out his wallet and dropped several bills on the table. I took his proffered hand, and we stood.
It took every ounce of willpower not to jump him then and there.
Out in the main corridor of the airport, the crowd had noticeably thinned. The overhead fluorescents flickered and thunder rattled the huge windows. As we reached the airline’s Gold Club suite, the lighting blacked out. The emergency generators kicked on. A sickly glow fill the huge hallway as Ian knocked on the door.
The concierge opened it and waved us inside. A relieved smile filled her face. “There you are. Flight 246 has been officially cancelled. Here’s your boarding passes for the first flight tomorrow morning.” She handed us each our reissued paperwork.
“I was processing your hotel vouchers when we lost power,” she continued in a rush while she retrieved our carry-ons from the locker behind her. “I don’t have any manual vouchers here. Would you mind waiting a moment while I get some from our office downstairs?”
“That will be fine,” Ian murmured.
She darted out the door, and it locked with a quiet snick behind her.
Ian dropped his carry-on. The bag hit the floor with a muffled thud. “What shall we do while we wait?” His voice was low, husky, in my ear. His hands settled on my hips. His clean, woodsy smell filled my head.
I looked up at him. Under the red emergency lighting, he looked wicked. Dangerous. “Why don’t you show me?” I whispered.
His mouth descended on mine. Not tentative. Not testing. Devouring. Like a starving man on a deserted island.
My response was equally shameless. I dropped my purse and carry-on and parted my lips, inviting him inside. He tasted as rich and delicious as the dinner he’d treated me to.
His hands slid south and cupped my ass, pressing me tight against his swollen cock.
Some part of me with common sense prevailed. I pressed my hands against his chest. I could feel his reluctance as his lips left mine. “She’ll be back any minute,” I said.
A mischievous grin lit his face. “Never had sex in public before?”
“No. Well, not exactly,” I fudged. With Ian, I didn’t want to talk about another man. I just wanted him.
His head dipped, and he nuzzled my neck. “So you’re telling me you want something longer than the fifteen minutes it will take her to get back?”
I couldn’t help laughing at his tone. “Doesn’t every woman?”
“If I don’t have you here and now, I can guarantee I won’t be able to make it last when we get to the hotel.”
I shivered at the raw lust in his voice. Not even my ex made me feel this sexy, this wanton, even in the first blushes of our relationship.
“Then maybe you’d better fuck me before she gets back.” God, I sounded like a slut. And I reveled in it. For years, I was so careful everything I did. Everything I said.
For the first time, I understood why my ex had left me. I was boring as hell.
But with Ian, I felt like sexy. exciting.
He took my hand and tugged me over to the couches around the corner from the podium. I understood his reasoning. We’d have some warning when the door opened, but the concierge wouldn’t be able to see us right away.
Ian slipped off his jacket, sat down and pulled me into the “V” of his thighs. Gently, almost respectfully, he pushed up my skirt. “Take off your shoes.”
While I kicked off my pumps, I shed my suit jacket as well and tossed it on top of his. Our clothing mirrored our positions, and I shivered at the implications.
He hooked his thumbs in my hose and panties and eased them down my legs, laying little kisses along my thighs as he did so. Tremors ignited goosebumps along my skin. My muscles turned to jelly, so I braced my hands on his shoulders. He lifted each of my feet in turn and peeled off the hose and panties.
His fingers stroked my pussy lips, coaxing even more liquid from me. For someone determined to have a quickie, he took his time. While he massaged my right ass cheek with one hand, he teased my clit with the thumb of the other.
The whole time he watched, weighing every motion, every reaction. When he slid a finger inside my passage, my eyelids fluttered closed at the sheer pleasure.
“Lacy,” he snapped.
My lids popped open at his sternness tone.
“Keep your eyes on me.” His feet moved between mine and pressed my legs apart. I’d never had a man command me like that. The intensity sent another wave of lust through me.
I nodded. I couldn’t speak, just moan, because he choose that moment to thrust three fingers inside me. He stretched me, filled me. The fear that the concierge would be back any minute spiced everything he did.
My mouth opened, and I ran my tongue over my upper lip. Under his trousers, his erection twitched. He picked up his tempo. I was so slick I could feel the warning contraction deep inside.
It was too fucking much. No one had ever taken this much time, made sure I was this aroused. “Stop. God, please stop.”
Ian froze. “What’s wrong?”
I gathered the threads of what little self-control I still possessed. When I could breathe again, I pushed his hand down, away from my demanding pussy. “I’m about to come, and I want you inside of me when I do.”
He relaxed at my assurance and unbuckled his belt. His self-satisfied smile said everything.
As much as I wanted this, one little fact hit me like a runaway train. “Shit! I don’t have any protection.” Ian started laughing and reached under my jacket for his. When he pulled out his hand, a foil packet gleamed red under the emergency lighting.
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you.” But I couldn’t help smiling.
“Oh, so you’re saying you weren’t checking out my ass earlier?”
I snatched the packet out of his grip. “Shut up and unzip your pants.”
He laughed harder, but he followed my commands. His delicious cock sprang free as he shoved his clothing out of the way. If we had more time now, I’d show him exactly how much I appreciated his body.
My fingers trembled so much that it took a couple of tries to rip open the packet. I rolled the condom over his cock. It felt as hard and thick as it looked. I kept my eyes on his as I knelt on the couch, straddling his hips.
When I lowered my body over his, air hissed between his teeth. I understood the feeling. I nearly came myself.
We both held perfectly still for a long moment before the need to move overtook me. I braced my palms on his shoulders and ground against his body. He rested his hands on my thighs, letting me set the pace this first time.