ANOTHER SKY

by Jayne Frost

  Searching for a distraction of my own, I turned her hand over, running my thumb along the grooves on her palm. “I want you to live wherever you feel comfortable. If you need to live in the place the Company provides, I’m fine with that. Or if you want to split your time between both apartments, that’s okay too. Or you can—”

  I was so busy giving her all the options, I didn’t see the sudden movement when Gelsey launched herself at me. Straddling my lap, her mouth crashed into mine.

  “Yes,” she breathed between feverish kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  Burying my hand in her hair, I tipped back and looked her in the eyes. “Yes to what?”

  “All of it. Any of it.” Her lips found mine again. “I love you, Miles.”

  She froze. And so did I. But maybe not for the same reasons. I was kicking myself because I didn’t say it first, and she looked like she wanted nothing more than to take it back.

  Too fucking bad. It was out there.

  Banding my arms around her waist, I pushed out of the chair. Her legs wrapped around my hips without hesitation.

  “You don’t have to say it back,” she murmured, even though I could sense how badly she wanted to hear it.

  Because I knew her. Every curve of her face. Every tilt of her lips. Every shadow in her eyes.

  Pressing my mouth to hers, I shouldered my way through the door to the small bedroom in the back.

  “I love you too, baby,” I said as I eased her onto the white linen.

  I hated the relief in her eyes. And the underlying astonishment. Didn’t she know I was the lucky one?

  She doesn’t know a lot of things.

  The inner voice brought me up short and left me cold as the truth sank in. There were things Gelsey didn’t know. Things she deserved to know before she made a decision.

  “Tell me again,” I said as I kissed my way down her body.

  Her fingers twined in my hair. “I love you. I love you. I…”

  The declaration died on a moan when I reached the apex of her thighs.

  She loved me.

  And that was enough for now.

  Gelsey

  The car service took us directly to the SoHo apartment after we landed.

  Molly, the realtor, flipped out when she found out who her celebrity client was. And now she was in the other room, talking excitedly into her phone. The lack of furniture and high ceilings conspired, and I could hear every word she said. She mentioned Miles by name and identified me as “some ballerina.”

  Rather than taking it as an insult, her description made me stupidly happy. I wasn’t just a girl on Miles’s arm. I had my own identity.

  “Doesn’t that break some sort of client privilege?” I whispered as I gazed out the window at the bustling street below.

  Miles slipped an arm around my waist, his lips ghosting over my shoulder. “I don’t care about that. What do you think of the place? Ivan warned me off of Park Avenue. But if you want the Park…”

  I spun around. “No. This is perfect. I love it.”

  He tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear, an indulgent smile pinned to his lips. I felt my cheeks pink as I imagined what he was thinking. And he’d be right. I didn’t know a Park Avenue view from a SoHo view from…well, anything.

  I only knew that Miles had picked this place out. And it was beautiful. Hardwood floors. A stone fireplace. Exposed brick. An attended lobby.

  And the best part?

  It was small. Not tiny. But cozy. Only two bedrooms. I’d be able to hear Miles from anywhere in the apartment. Sometimes in the Austin house it felt like he was in another zip code.

  “Why don’t we reserve judgment until we explore the city a little more,” he said, his hand moving under my shirt.

  Swallowing my disappointment, I nodded. Because I didn’t want to be that girl. Trying to lock Miles down before he changed his mind.

  He wouldn’t. He loved me.

  Besides, there were a lot of moving parts. Things to consider.

  “What about Austin?”

  The question slipped out before I could reel it back in.

  “What about it?” Miles kissed the tip of my nose, then ventured to the closet. He hissed when he pulled the door open. “Shit, we may need to do some remodeling.”

  I peered inside. Small, yes. By his standards. But I only had enough clothes to fill a quarter of the space. He could have the rest. “It’s fine for me. I don’t need much.”

  Or rather, I didn’t have much.

  His eyes flared with a hint of irritation. He’d offered on more than one occasion to take me on a shopping spree. Anywhere I wanted to go. But I’d declined.

  If I ever had to appear with Miles at a fancy event, I might let him buy me a dress. Maybe. But other than that, I was good. Solid.

  “What’s the matter,” I teased. “My Target leggings not doing it for you?”

  And just like that, the sparkle returned. His palm found its way to my ass cheek, and he squeezed. “You do it for me. Every. Damn. Time.”

  He dipped his head, but I held him off, my fingertips brushing his chest. “You never answered my question. What about Austin? The studio? Your music with Blake?”

  He leaned a hip against the doorjamb but kept his hand on my ass. “It’s a three-and-a-half-hour flight. I can round trip it in one day.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll spend the night every now and then. You can come with me.”

  I chewed my lip, and he promptly freed the abused flesh with his thumb.

  “What are you worried about, baby?” he asked.

  Shifting my feet, I lifted a shoulder. “Won’t Tori get tired of you using her jet?” His grin was back, the one that would make me feel dumb if it were anyone else aiming it at me. “What? It’s a valid question.”

  “You didn’t notice the difference between the jet we were on today and the one we took to Padre?”

  Honestly, the only things I remembered about our flight were the cushy seats. And sunrise over Manhattan. And my flower.

  “No. Why?”

  “The jet we took out here was a Gulfstream 550. It has seven more seats than the one we took to Padre.”

  Confused, I crossed my arms. “Okay…so whose plane did we use?” Toying with the same fallen lock, he avoided my eyes. “Miles?”

  “Technically, it belongs to Elite Aviation. But since I’d kind of like to defile you in that bed again, I think I should lease it.”

  My ears started to ring. Did he just…? No, he couldn’t have.

  “Unless you think I should buy it,” he mused, clearly enjoying what I could only assume was my dumbstruck expression. “I’m down either way.”

  When my mouth dropped open, he took full advantage. His lips touched mine, curving into a grin when his tongue dipped inside.

  Pulling back when I didn’t respond, the humor faded, and he said, “I’m not trying to show off. It’s just…flying commercial…it’s difficult…”

  I shook my head. “Wait. You’d do all this for me?”

  His features softened. “I’d do anything for you.”

  Overwhelmed, I dropped my gaze to the floor. An apartment in SoHo. A private jet. I was confident of my own worth, but usually relationships were more evenly matched. What did I have to offer besides my love? Would Miles get tired of always being the one to give?

  Long fingers threaded my hair, finding that spot on my nape that made everything less heavy. He tipped my chin up with his thumb.

  “Talk to me, little mouse.”

  Miles rarely called me that anymore, and I felt the smile bloom in response. “It’s a lot. Everything you’re doing. I don’t have…” I took in a deep breath. “I’ll never be able to…”

  He stroked my cheek as I tried to find the words. “I’ve told you how I feel about the money. It’s just…there. I want you to have nice things, and I hope you let me treat you sometimes. But this—the apartment, the jet—it allows me to be with you without disrupting your life too much. Being with me won’t a
lways be a picnic. But New York, it’s not a bad place for celebrities. Better than LA.”

  Miles dropped his hand when Molly called for him, her high heels tapping against the wood floors as she got closer. He slipped his arm around me, and we ventured back to the center of the room.

  “So,” she said, her smile bright and trained on my boyfriend. “What do you think? Do you want to sign some papers?”

  I was about to wander off. Let them hash it out. But Miles held me in place.

  “I like it,” he said, looking around. “But it’s really not up to me. My girl might need something bigger if she wants a practice space.” His gaze found mine, and I jerked in surprise. “Or a view of Central Park?”

  The realtor turned shocked eyes in my direction, and now they were both looking at me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a saccharine tone. “I’m terrible with names. You are…?”

  Miles’s palm skimmed up and down my back, and I drew strength from the touch.

  “Gelsey.”

  Molly beamed. “What a lovely name. If you can give me a list of your requirements.” Tipping forward, she lowered her voice. “And your price range. I’ll be more than happy to help you find something.”

  “Don’t worry about the price,” Miles interjected, and I swear the woman nearly fainted.

  Before she worked up a good head of steam again, I said, “I don’t really want anything any bigger than this.”

  Molly’s smile drooped. “So, two thousand square feet then?”

  I inched a little closer to Miles. “Or smaller. I’m good with smaller.”

  Now she looked almost green. “You don’t want anything smaller than this. How about if I compile a list of some other properties. If the price isn’t an obstacle we have Tribeca and Chelsea. The Flat Iron District.”

  Miles took over when I started to fade. “We’re simple folks,” he drawled, his Texas accent peeking out. “So no penthouses. Nothing huge. I need an attended lobby. Security. Get a list together and send it to my email. We’ll whittle it down and go from there.” He squeezed my side. “Right, baby?”

  I looked up into adoring brown eyes. And I knew right then, I could live with him anywhere. “Right.”

  Miles

  Gelsey’s nose stayed pressed to the glass as the taxi inched down Broadway. I’d never been fond of New York, but seeing the city reflected in her eyes—it was magical.

  As we approached Lincoln Center, her lips formed a little O, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was holding her breath.

  “Change of plans,” I said to the driver. “We’ll walk from here.”

  Gelsey’s head whipped around, blue eyes wide. “But…what about…?”

  A part of me hated it that she felt this way. That it was necessary. But another part melted at the concern etched into her features. We were in this together.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured her as I handed the driver some cash. “Let’s explore.”

  Her face lit up like I’d given her a present. So damned easy to make this girl happy.

  Gelsey slid out first. And as I made to follow, the driver twisted around and said, “Miles Cooper, right? I love your music.”

  Meeting his smile, I offered one of my own. And for the first time, I understood why celebrities flocked here. The allure. Maybe I really could be anonymous. Just a face in the crowd.

  “Thanks, man.” His grin widened, surprise flashing over his features when I stuck out my hand for a shake.

  I guess that wasn’t done. But I was still a Texas boy. Raised with southern manners. My mama would slap the taste out of my mouth if I turned Yankee.

  Hopping to my feet, I took Gelsey’s elbow. But she hardly noticed. Her gaze was everywhere, bouncing from Lincoln Center to Julliard across the street and farther down Sixty-Fifth Street to where the treetops from Central Park were barely visible.

  Pulling her into my arms, I dropped a kiss to her mouth. And right there on the busy sidewalk with all the people rushing by, her lips parted and welcomed me in. Welcomed me home. Because that’s what she was. An anchor. My port in the storm.

  Her lids fluttered open, those baby blues alive with excitement. A new adventure.

  Lacing our fingers, I relaxed and gave in to it all. “Where do you want to go first, baby?”

  After checking out the fountain at Lincoln Center and picking up cupcakes at the Magnolia Bakery, we finally made it to Strawberry Fields, the two-acre preserve in the middle of Central Park dedicated to John Lennon. It was a serene place, purposefully so. No bikes or skateboards or music allowed.

  My leg had started to throb, a stark reminder that I still had a ways to go in my fitness journey. I hardly limped any more, but the injury was ever present.

  As I took a seat on one of the benches overlooking the stone monument dedicated to a man who’d paid the ultimate price for his fame, I realized my own life hadn’t turned out so bad.

  Jesus. The guilt that accompanied that notion.

  Letting my head fall back, I gazed up at the sky through the snarl of branches and thick leaves.

  Time to lay it down, bro, came Rhenn’s voice on a breeze.

  But it was my thought.

  Maybe it was time.

  Gelsey eased down beside me and laced our fingers. Her warmth spread up my arm and took residence in my chest.

  I looked down and found her smiling at me.

  “I love you,” I said, my free hand traveling the length of her golden locks. “And this hair.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s kind of cliché, don’t you think? A ballerina with hair to her waist?”

  My heart clenched a little at the idea of her cutting it. Ever. Which was stupid. But I loved being trapped behind the silky curtain when she rode me. And feeling the strands soft against my face when I slept.

  “I don’t know, baby. I think it’s beautiful.”

  Shrugging, she dipped into the pink box on her lap and pulled out a cupcake. Red velvet. A little piece of home. Though New Yorkers liked to claim it as theirs.

  As if she could read my thoughts, she said, “Did you know it was a Texas company that first sold the red dye that made this cake famous?”

  I did know, but I shook my head, urging her to continue. And she did, telling me all about the origin of the confection all the way back to the Victorian era.

  When she finished, she tossed the silver wrapper in the box and hopped to her feet with her earbuds in her hand.

  “Do you mind if…?” she pointed at the stones a few feet away, the mosaic with Imagine in the center.

  “Go ahead, baby.”

  I watched as she plunked herself down in the middle of the monument and looked around. And her expression. Wonder and bliss. And peace. Love. I saw that too.

  Taking out my phone, I snapped a dozen pictures. Maybe more. And then I reached into the box and retrieved the silver paper. The only thing I could fashion with a scrap so small was a rose the size of my thumb.

  Once I’d finished, I hauled to my feet and walked over to my girl.

  “For your collection,” I said, dropping the flower into her open palm.

  She examined the rose like it was a national treasure, then looked up with a wobbly smile.

  “I feel bad. I don’t have anything to give you,” she said, looking truly bereft at the notion.

  Taking her hand, I pulled her to standing and held her against me. “I’m sure I can think of something.”

  Miles

  We stumbled through the door of the suite at the Ritz, our lips cemented in a hungry kiss. The air was electric, charged with passion hot enough to melt our clothes.

  Gelsey’s fingers worked furiously to unbutton my jeans, while I reached behind me, searching for the latch to flip the deadbolt. As soon as the locks snicked into place, she dropped to her knees, dragging my denim along with her. My erection sprang free, and for a moment, there was only heavy silence and wicked intentions.

  My back met the door w
ith a soft thud as I looked down at her. “What are you doing, baby?”

  It was a valid question. I’d eaten her pussy from every angle, but Gelsey had never taken me in her mouth. And I’d never pushed. I figured we’d get around to it eventually. Sex with Gelsey was more about the journey than the destination. Maybe when I was younger and dumber, I wouldn’t have appreciated it the way I did now.

  Snagging her kiss-swollen lip between her teeth, she peered up at me, looking anything but sure.

  I bit down my smile, my fingers sifting through her hair. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “I want to. But what if…?” On her knees, clearly lacking confidence, she couldn’t finish the thought. Not if it meant revealing a perceived weakness. I loved that about her. The way she never backed away from a challenge. At the moment, with my cock no more than two inches from her sweet mouth, I thanked God for that particular trait.

  “What if what?”

  Her chin tipped up. “I don’t want to do it wrong.”

  Fuck me. This girl.

  “No way that could happen.”

  This was not a conversation we should be having in the foyer with Gelsey kneeling on the marble floor. She sank down, her bottom lip jutting out when I pulled up my jeans.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I said with a smile. “Let’s talk over there.”

  I motioned to the living area, and she reluctantly climbed to her feet.

  “I hate that you have to talk me through everything,” she said quietly as she eased onto the sofa, her gaze skittering to the Manhattan skyline.

  Dropping down beside her, I hauled her into my lap, positioning her over my throbbing erection.

  “Baby, I don’t think there’s anything you could do to me that I wouldn’t like. But I want you to like it too. And giving me head with the marble biting into your knees doesn’t sound like it would be that enjoyable.”

  She sighed. “That’s how they do it in the movies.”

  I barked out a laugh. “What kind of movies are we talking about?” She squirmed, and I dipped my head to find her eyes. “Porn?”

  She didn’t blink. “Just because I never had sex before you doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it. I just didn’t have the opportunity.”