by Kelly Myers
My eyes narrow, but I quickly recover and vow not to let anything she says get under my skin. “I think he looks dashing,” I say, and smile up at him.
“Excuse us, Tabitha,” Drew says, “but, we were just about to go have a dance.”
“Of course, darling. Just don’t neglect your guests.”
Hand still firmly against my lower back, Drew leads me away from his ex-wife and over to the dance floor. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low and deep. “She can be very irritating.”
“It’s okay,” I say. His arms wrap around me, he spins me onto the crowded floor and “Fly Me To The Moon” fills the air. My hands slide over his expensive suit jacket and rest on his shoulders.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, and pulls me closer.
My heart speeds up. “Have you?” I tease.
“You can’t even begin to imagine.”
“Misty” by Erroll Garner begins, a sensual piano tune that makes me feel like it’s only the two of us on the dance floor. A smile curves my mouth. “So, tell me.”
His lips lower and I feel his warm breath tickle my ear. “Every night, I’ve been thinking about you back in my bed, naked and beneath me.”
“Next time, you’re going to be beneath me,” I tell him boldly.
I hear a quick intake of breath. “That’ll work.”
“And, I’m going to be the one in charge.”
I feel his breathing increase and his hands begin to knead my bare back. “Go on,” he says in a hoarse whisper.
“And, you’re going to tell me exactly what turns you on…” I murmur throatily, and he swallows hard, waiting for me to continue. My fingers brush the hair at the nape of his neck. I’m glad he didn’t cut it and I love the rough shadow on his face. “I want to know where you want my hands…my mouth....”
“Jesus, Leigh,” he hisses. “I want to rip your clothes off right now.”
“If we weren’t here, I’d already be down on my knees.”
“Christ. Are you trying to kill me?”
I love the way he’s responding and I feel a sense of power over him. This must be what he feels every time he takes over a company. It’s a rush.
The song ends and as a new one begins, Drew grabs my hand and practically drags me off the dance floor. A surprised giggle escapes me and I hurry to keep up, my long dress flowing out behind me. He leads me away from the crowd and down a hall. People greet him as we hurry by and he gives a curt nod here and there. Finally, he opens a door, tugs me inside.
The moment the door closes, he hauls me up against his hard body and seizes my mouth in a rough kiss. “You like teasing me?” he asks, and runs a tongue over my lower lip. He grabs a handful of my dress in his fist.
My heart pounds and he releases his hold on the flowy material. His hands slide up and under the long slits in my dress. They roam up my thighs, over my back side and then move around to cup my hot center. “Am I a tease if I’m wet?” I ask, panting.
With a groan, he dips his hand into my panties and slips two fingers into my slick core. “Oh, God, you’re dripping.” His heated blue gaze locks onto mine and he begins to move his fingers, in and out, swirling, dipping, rubbing.
My breathing increases and I feel my knees start to give out. Drew hikes me up, pushing my back against the wall, leveraging me on one of his rock-hard thighs, as his long fingers continue to play with me. “You feel so good,” he says in a husky voice.
I bite my lip, bury my face against his shoulder. The feel of his hand moving against me, fingers twirling inside me, is too much and I rock my hips. “I want you inside me,” I cry, and blindly grab at the button at the top of his fancy designer trousers.
He captures my hand, presses it against his erection, and groans. “I know, baby.”
I yank his zipper down, grab hold of his pants and boxer briefs and jerk them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and I hear his breath catch. I wrap around him like a cat, preparing to settle my body down on his hot, throbbing cock.
He grasps my hips and he holds me in place, hovering above him. “I don’t have any protection,” he forces out between gritted teeth. The look on his face is pure torture.
“I don’t care,” I say. When his grip loosens, I slide down onto his tip and relish the feel of him slowly filling me. I stretch to take him all in and grind my hips hard.
“Fuuuck,” he hisses. He leans forward and places his hands on the wall to support himself while his hips thrust up to meet mine. “You are so damned tight.”
Our bodies slam together and we are both overwhelmed with an uncontrollable, visceral passion that consumes us.
My body soars to new heights and contraction after contraction seizes me. I cry out, hanging on to him for dear life, and feel him reach his release a moment after me. He buries his face in the curve of my bare neck and shoulder and shudders, filling me liquid warmth.
We stay like that for a long moment, our bodies still together, until our short, quick breaths finally become more even. He lifts me up and I sag against the wall, exhausted. As he pulls his pants back up, I notice his hands shake.
So do mine, I realize, as I untwist the flowy panels of my dress and smooth my hands down myself. I tuck a few loose strands of hair back into my chignon and give him a sheepish look.
He quirks a dark brow and his midnight eyes glow. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go out and give a speech right now.”
I reach out and straighten his bowtie. Then, I run my hands through his hair, straightening the mussed locks. “You look like a billion bucks, Carson.”
He runs a hand across his lower face and smirks. “You really are something,” he tells me, then grabs my hand and we walk out and back to the party.
The rest of the evening flashes by in a blur. Drew gives a heartfelt speech and tells the crowd how much the National Prevention of Child Abuse means to him and thanks everyone for coming out and donating.
As I sip a glass of champagne, I can’t help but admire him. He commands the room and every gaze listens intently as he speaks. He possesses a world-weary charm and, when he turns it on, charisma for days.
As he wraps up the speech, I catch a glimpse of myself in a large, gilded mirror. I look like a Grecian goddess in the white, flowy dress and my face glows. I guess mind-blowing sex will do that to you.
Not far away, I see Tabitha in her sexy black dress. Her lips look thin and pursed, her arms crossed. I’d probably see frown lines if it weren’t for the Botox. She glances from Drew to me and she does not look pleased.
I could care less.
She had her chance and it didn’t work out. Now, it’s my turn.
A round of applause fills the air and I clap along with everyone else after Drew finishes and steps off the stage. He winds his way through the crowd and heads straight to me.
And, suddenly it hits me that I have never been more happy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Drew
I play host for as long as I can, but all I want to do is get out of here and whisk Ashley back to my place. I’m still a little out of sorts after our clandestine encounter earlier. I swear, my insides trembled for at least ten minutes afterward. I don’t know if it’s because of how intense the sex was or because I found myself anticipating our next rendezvous.
We get separated for a bit while I do my duty and talk to all the dusty, old money here. I think I’ve charmed enough donations out of these tightwads to finally make my exit. Let Tabitha take over.
When I reach Ashley, she gives me a smile brighter than sunshine and I feel my heart give a leap. Whatever is happening between us is new to me. I’m beginning to feel all these unfamiliar emotions and all I want is to be with her.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask.
She nods, then drops a hand to her stomach. If I’m not mistaken, it growls.
“Didn’t you eat anything?”
“No. Just a glass of champagne. After all that soup and bland food, I think I finally
have my appetite back.”
“What do you have a taste for?”
She tilts her blonde head and thinks for a moment. Then, she gives me a mischievous smile. “Pizza.”
“Done,” I say, and take her hand. With my other hand, I fish my phone out of my jacket pocket and find the contact number for Jack Steele, my pilot. He picks up after one ring. “Jack, can you take me and a guest to Chicago? Now,” I add and glance over to see Ashley’s eyes widen in surprise. “Great. We’ll see you at the airport in 30.” I disconnect the call, squeeze her hand and toss a roguish smile her way.
“Did you just say Chicago?”
“You said you wanted pizza. So, I’m going to take you to get the best.” I glance at my Rolex. It’s almost nine which makes it nearly midnight in Chicago. That means the restaurant closes in an hour. I pull up another name in my contact list and, in a moment, I’m talking to the general manager of Lou Malnati’s Pizzeria and my good friend, Mike Rizzo.
“I’m on my way and bringing a very special lady,” I tell Mike. “We’re getting late so that means early morning in your neck of the woods. Should be wheel’s up in 45 minutes. That sounds great. Thanks, Mikey. It means a lot.”
“We’re really going to Chicago? Right now?” The disbelief in her voice amuses me.
“Right now,” I confirm and kiss her temple.
Jack Steele beats us to Half Moon Bay Airport, 20 miles south of San Francisco, and prepares my Bombardier Global 7500 Aircraft. It’s an ultra, long-range business jet that can carry 19 passengers and four crew. Its cabin is one-third longer than competing models, it can sleep eight passengers and it is the largest, roomiest and most luxurious business aircraft ever built.
Well-worth the $72.8 million dollar price tag, in my opinion.
As we walk up to the jet, Ashley clutches my arm and shivers. “Are you cold?” I ask. When she nods, I slip out of my suit jacket and place it over her shoulders. Jack meets us and we shake hands. “Ashley Monroe meet our pilot, Jack Steele. He used to fly Lockheed Martin F-22 Raptors when he was in the Air Force.”
“I don’t know what those are, but they sound impressive.”
Jack’s bright blue eyes squint with laughter. “Just another plane,” he says with a wink in her direction.
“He’s being extremely modest right now,” I say, and we walk up the stairs and step into the jet. “Everything ready?”
He nods. “Weather looks clear, flight distance is 1,859 miles and flight time is 3 hours 41 minutes. Welcome aboard, Miss Monroe.” He gives a bow and then turns to close the cabin door. “I’ll see you when we touch down in Chi-town.”
“I have some extra clothes onboard so we can change into something more comfortable,” I tell her. “Let’s buckle up first for takeoff.”
I guide her over to a large, comfortable leather chair and she slips into it and snaps the seat belt together. I sit across from her in a matching chair and follow suit.
“This is surreal,” she says and looks out the window. Then, she glances over her shoulder, down the aisle, and checks out as much of the cabin as she can. There’s a couch, television mounted on the wall and a table and chairs. Beyond that, the jet boasts a bathroom with a shower and a bedroom with a Queen-sized bed and dresser.
I can’t help but smile at her wide-eyed amazement. It’s adorable. I reach out across the small aisle and take her hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me.”
In moments, we taxi over to the runway. I feel the jet turn, we begin to pick up speed as the engines roar and then there’s that momentary sense of weightlessness as we lift up into the sky.
Once we hit a steady cruising altitude, Jack’s voice spills out of the speaker and tells us to feel free to get up and move around and to enjoy the flight.
I unbuckle my lap belt and stand up and stretch. “Want a tour?” I ask.
Ashley unbuckles her belt and I motion for her to follow me through the cabin. “This is amazing,” she says, eyeing all the tiny details and fine craftsmanship. “I can’t believe you have your own plane.”
“It’s a nice luxury to have,” I admit. “The moment I could afford it, I started shopping for the best I could buy.”
“What kind of plane is this?” she asks.
“A Bombardier Global 7500.”
She nods and tosses me an adorable smile. “Just checking.”
I grab her around the waist and haul her back up against me. Then I lower my head and nuzzle my face into her golden hair. The smell drives me crazy and I place a kiss at the corner of her mouth.
“Let’s change.” We go back to the bedroom and Ashley plops down on the bed while I rummage through the dresser and pull out a pair of jeans and button-down shirt for me. In another drawer, I find a few different choices for Ashley. “Take your pick,” I say.
Ashley walks over to look at the clothes while I start unbuttoning my shirt. “Can I ask why you have all this?” She pulls out a pair of leggings and then turns back to watch me drop my shirt on the bed.
“For clients. Just in case.”
Her appreciative eyes skim down my bare chest. “Can I wear that?” she asks and nods to my discarded shirt. I watch her pick up the Tom Ford slim-fit poplin button-down and hold it up to her face. She breathes in deeply. “I want your smell on me.”
My pulse thunders and it takes everything in me to not throw her on the bed. I manage to nod and then slowly sink down to sit on the edge of the bed. She has my full attention when she slips out of the flowy white dress. It slithers down to the floor and lands in a silken pile.
Standing in front of me in only a nude satin thong and silver heels, it’s like she’s some nearly-naked, shimmering nymph.
Blood flows to my lower body and my heart thunders in my ears when she sashays over, lowers to her knees and places a hand on either of my knees. When she pushes them further apart, I swallow hard.
Her hands move to the front of my pants and she begins to lightly rub. The muscles in my belly flex and I lean back on my elbows. A moment later, my zipper goes down and my erection springs out. When Ashley takes me in her hand and begins stroking me, I don’t think it can get much better. Until, that is, she starts placing light butterfly kisses on the tip of my shaft.
The moment she takes me into her mouth, I groan and drop my head back. The pleasure is too intense and whatever she’s doing down there is blowing my fucking mind. I want to pull her up in my arms, make her stop before I explode. But, all that sucking and licking is pushing me to the edge. I decide to let the pleasure take over. My hips jerk, my body shudders and I explode, falling back on the bed.
Ashley slides up on top of me and places a kiss on my rough jaw.
I feel so satiated. So at peace. When I finally manage to open my eyes, I reach for her face and bring it down so I can kiss her. This woman is going to be the death me.
The Global 7500 lands at Chicago Midway International Airport just before four am local time. Raymond Whitaker, a driver that I use when I’m in town, waits for us and he has already been informed of our destination. I shake Raymond’s hand and introduce Ashley. Then, we slip into the back of the Mercedes-Benz S600 Maybach.
She looks amazing in the black leggings, my button-down shirt and a black leather jacket. And, of course, those sexy-as-sin silver heels.
Once again, I enjoy watching Ashley check out the luxury car with wide eyes. I don’t think she’s so much impressed by it, but more fascinated by all the fancy extras and creature comforts.
There’s a dual-screen, rear-seat entertainment system with a Burmester surround-sound system, a rear-console refrigerator with Robbe & Berking silver-plated Champagne flutes, foldout tables and even a perfume atomization system. There's plenty of room to recline with calf support, heel rest and six different massage programs in the S600's Nappa leather seats.
“I hope you’re still hungry,” I say.
“Starving.”
“Good.” I glance at my watch. “Mi
ke should have everything ready for us.”
Ashley reaches out, tugs my arm over and inspects the large platinum watch on my wrist. By the look on her face, I can see she’s not surprised to see it’s a Rolex. “I’ve never known anyone who wore a Rolex,” she says, and runs a finger over the case.
“It’s a Rolex Cosmograph Daytona,” I say.
“Does that means it’s like a million dollars more than a regular old Rolex?”
She is just too much. I lunge forward and grab her side. She twists with a yelp. “Okay, okay! Don’t tickle me,” she pleads.
“It’s not even close to a million dollars,” I say, sitting back in my seat and looking down at the exclusive ice-blue dial. More like $80,000, but does it even matter?
Since everything has been first class, I’m not sure what she expects when we roll up to Lou Malnati’s. Located on South State Street, the pizzeria is a favorite of tourists and locals. I tell Raymond I’ll call him later when we are ready to be picked up.
I guide Ashley to the front door where Mike waits. He unlocks it and we greet each other with a hug and slap on the back. “Ashley, I’d like you to meet Mike Rizzo, one of my oldest friends.”
“So nice to meet you,” she says.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replies and throws her a wink. “When Andy mentioned a very special lady, I knew I had to meet you.”
Mike guides us through the dining room. It has a distinctive industrial design with a vintage twist and a song by one of the infamous Rat Pack plays in the background. “Thanks for this, Mike,” I say as he takes us over to a red and white checkered table where a candle burns and a couple of ice cold beers wait.
I pull out Ashley’s chair and she sits. As I walk over to mine, Mike slaps me on the back. “Pizza’s on the way out, buddy. Hope you’re hungry.”
Over the glow of candlelight, I watch Ashley reach for the napkin and place it on her lap. “I promise I’ll be careful,” she says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, completely enthralled by the way the flames highlight her beautiful face in light and shadow.