While I wait, I hear the last boarding call for my flight and my heart sinks. “My baggage…”
The second big man with a buzz cut and a beard smiles, but not friendly-like. “We’ll take care of it. Can I see some ID?”
I open my leather wallet, show him my driver’s license, and I swear, he squints at it for at least a minute.
It’s absolutely ludicrous and I can’t help but get an attitude. “What is your problem?”
“Is this your child?” He points at my, thanks to him, wide-awake fussy baby.
“Of course, she’s mine.” Of all the idiotic questions…
“Do you have ID for her?”
“She’s a baby for goodness sakes. She doesn’t need a passport. I’m not traveling internationally.”
“No need to get all worked up, ma’am.”
“Worked up? It’s the middle of the night, I have an infant, and I just missed my flight. You haven’t begun to see worked up. When I tell my husband…”
I stop right there because the door opens and one very pissed off husband walks in. “Thank you, officers. I’ll take my wife home now and see to it she gets the medicine she needs.”
“Hold on a sec. What did he tell you?”
The man pats my husband on the back and shakes his head sadly. “Good luck, Mr. Patten.”
When they leave, it’s just me, Skye and him in this room with white tiled walls, plastic seats, and a blue plastic table.
Steel eyes bore through me and his jaw ticks. “You don’t get to walk out on me without a conversation.”
“Oh yeah? Watch me.” I swivel on a heel but he turns me back and places the baby carrier carefully at my feet.
“Isabella. Look at me.”
I do, and of course my stupid heart shatters into little tiny pieces and tears drip out of the corners of my eyes which I angrily wipe away.
I manage to croak out, “I want to go home. We’re in danger and you refuse to admit it.”
His voice cracks and tears pool in the corners of his eyes. “I fucking love you, babe. Dammit. I’ve been trying to take care of Xavier without upsetting you.”
I hug him tight. “You idiot. Why didn’t you tell me you believed me?”
He cups my cheeks. “Why do you think I have you locked up so tightly in New Jersey?”
“I didn’t know…”
“My God, Izzy, for a genius, sometimes you can be clueless—”
“Me? You’re the one that’s holding back. How about you let me in on what’s going on? Whatever happened to us being a team?”
“Yeah, you’re right but let’s not argue, okay? Let’s straighten this out where it’s warm and sunny.”
“Your private jet?”
“Damn right.” He grabs the baby carrier handle with his left hand and his right goes to the center of my back.
Outside, in the street, the limo idles.
“Hey Slate.”
“Hey, Mrs. Patten. All set?” He opens the door and settles the baby into the car seat. I climb in behind, followed by Gray.
Bahamas, here we come.
Chapter 7
Grayson
I had hopes of fucking my wife in the king-sized bed at the back of the jet but my adorable daughter thinks differently. Halfway to Miami, she has yet to close her lids so Isabella and I alternate. One walks our child while the other tries to get some sleep.
Note to self, despite her name, Skye does not belong in the air, not even in the comfort of my private jet. If I have any say, the only way she’ll see Disney World is by train.
Slate shut the door to the pilot’s cabin long ago. He said it was to give us privacy but I suspect he needed to drown out the baby’s nerve-wracking howls. About the same time, I took a couple acetaminophen and covered my head with a pillow.
I just want to make love to my wife like any normal male. Is that so much to ask? The baby was supposed to sleep during the trip but she’s inconsolable. Even the pink helmet does no good.
According to the pediatrician, this is how Skye unwinds when she’s overstimulated. When I told my mother this fact, she laughed and claimed I was the same but I didn’t find it the least bit funny.
Suddenly, from the lounge area, Isabella’s sweet and hushed song calms me as well as baby Skye. “By-low baby buntin’, daddy’s gone a huntin’ to get a little rabbit skin to wrap my little sweetheart in.”
When she repeats the song, Skye’s sobs change to little hiccups and the relative silence is so incredible, the muscles in my neck let go. Izzy glances up at me through the doorway, rocks the baby and her crooked smile sends a jolt to my cock.
Enchanted, I climb out of bed in my pajama bottoms and from behind, slide my arms around her waist. When I bury my nose into the back of her head, strawberries and the musky scent I know well attack my senses. My cock forgets I haven’t slept, jumps to life, and aches to sink into the woman who means more to me than life itself.
“Damn, you feel good.” As I nibble her earlobe, my hard want presses into her behind. “Do you think you can put her down?”
Izzy nods and slips our little angel, destroyer-of-souls, into her carrier seat and latches her in safely. Then, she turns into my open arms and kisses me with so much pent-up passion, my headache vanishes. Quickly, I pull her into the bedroom and kiss her, needing her to understand how much I fucking love her. Tonight, when she left me, I almost lost it.
While I devour her lips, ten fingers slide through the hair in the back of my head. Her mouth opens and my tongue accepts her invitation as her pelvis grinds against my ever-growing hardon.
“Just a sec.” She pushes away from my chest, gently closes the door, and leaves it open just a crack.
Off go her shoes, she strips to her underwear, and in less than a second, pulls me onto the bed.
“These have to go.” Grabbing the waistband of my pajamas, she pulls them over my butt, and I kick them off the rest of the way, amused by her impatience.
However, when clever fingers grab my cock, it gets serious, real fast. Her thumb does this twisty move around my length and blood rushes south. With a sly smile my way, she kisses down my chest and takes me in her mouth. She sucks, plays, and licks as I hold her and groan.
“Not this time, luv. I want to cum inside you.” I tug on her hair until she let’s go with a pop and slide her up my body.
I find her sweet mouth. She tastes of my precum and tea laced with peppermint. What a wild combination.
Her body belongs to me. I, alone, have discovered the spots that make her writhe and make her crazy. With our lips locked, my tongue deep in her mouth, I slide my hands over her silky skin and squeeze her butt cheeks.
She moans and her hands run up and down my back while I press up between her legs. The dampness there pushes my restraint to the limit. We haven’t had nearly enough sex lately and what little there was only made me want more.
I roll her onto her back with a growl, my legs straddling hers. Then, I grab hold of her wrists and raise her arms over her head. I kiss that beautiful mouth, her nose, and her eyelids. Hell, I fucking devour her. I lick and lave my way down her neck and she whimpers.
“Ah, fuck, Isabella.” Slowly, my hands slide down her arms, my thumbs caressing the sides of her breasts.
She reaches for my cock, I shake my head no, and wrap her fingers around the headboard. “Hold.”
The centers of Izzy’s eyes are so black, the blue is almost covered when she bites her lower lip, and nods.
Already, the tips of her lovely breasts are pebbled, and I haven’t touched them yet. With my want near her core, I massage her chest from neck to navel and love how her nostrils flair. I caress her, kiss her, squeeze and play, I show her how much I care. Then, my hands spread out below her navel, my fingertips in her curls.
Still, I don’t touch her sex, not even when she arches and spreads her legs wider.
“Grayson… I need…”
“Quiet, babe. I know what you need.” I slide my finger slowl
y down to her lower lips while she squirms.
The wet, swollen, silkiness makes me want more. I bite her nipples, cool them with my breath, then kiss the length of her torso. At her belly button, I tease, while she arches her pelvis up for something more.
Slowly I descend into her curls and when I arrive, throw her legs over my shoulder. Damn, the pink flesh is taut and swollen. I press my tongue to her nub and blood flows south at her deliciousness. Somehow, I manage to keep it together. I want her needy and so high that when she explodes, she’ll see stars.
I lick her bud, amazed how it grows while she quivers.
This is what I live for, this moment when she cums for me. I cover her sex fully with my mouth and suck on her until her body grows rigid. When I slip my hand the full length of her crack she moans. Almost there, I slip a finger deep, curl it and press.
“Ah, ah, ah. Oh God.” She breaks apart, shivers, and screams.
Hell, I did that to her. It’s such a rush but I can’t stay and watch. She’s pulls on my hair so hard it hurts and I’m forced to her lips.
She must taste herself on me because she moans. Then, I leave her mouth, go on my knees, and slide her ass to me until the tip of my cock slips to her opening.
She trembles as I wait, my need to cum, un-fucking-believable. With my hands on her hips, her ankles behind my neck, I sink slowly and fully into her. The angle is so perfect, sweat rolls off my body as I try to keep it together.
Then, I start our rhythm, and sink all the way in and out. Her engine roars to life. She bucks and shakes, still high on her last orgasm.
I’ll make sure she climbs higher.
“Oh shit. I’m cumming…” She rocks faster, her body tenses, and I position myself.
Then, I dive in deep with my balls at her ass. She turns her head and bites the pillowcase. Pressing her nub with my index finger, I stop and hold.
I fucking love fucking my wife.
“God damn it, Grayson, move!” She arches up and her juices lubricate me as she fights for her next high.
When her inner muscles clench my length, I’m so damn hard that when I cum, it’ll be life changing. A primal groan comes from deep within me, my lower back tenses, and I thrust hard repeatedly while she meets me every damn step of the way.
The headboard bangs against the cabin in sync with our breath and my balls slapping her ass.
She quivers and moans. “Gray. I, I…”
My thumb rolls across her clit and the moment she screams I burst into the waves of her orgasm.
My God. My mind is blown as I pump until I’m emptied. Finally, I just hold her to me until the last of her muscles stop twitching. Spent and sweaty, we drop onto the bed and turn, her head on the top of my chest.
“Damn I missed you.”
“Mmmm. Missed you more.”
She butterfly kisses my chest, fingers playing with the hairs of my chest.
“Babe, never run off again, okay.”
“Mmm.”
I think I exhausted her for she’s sound asleep.
It seems like only minutes later Slate’s voice sounds into the intercom. “Sorry but we’re landing. You need to buckle up.”
I wrap a sheet around us and buckle us in as Slate lands in the warm tropical island. When the jet door opens a moist tropical breeze greets us. It caresses the leaves of tall palms making them rustle and sway. Isabella is the first to descend to the asphalt in a short yellow sundress that emphasizes her lovely curves.
When she catches my appreciation of her body, I wink. Her lips are still swollen and her hair mussed but it’s her expression that does me in. It’s the one I’ve needed to see for weeks; the one that says she fucking loves me and loves fucking me.
Every chance I can get, for the next two weeks, I swear I’ll keep that look plastered to her face.
On the tarmac, I chuckle, and she smiles back. “What’s so funny?”
“You.” I kiss her well-loved lips, grab the baby carrier, and lead her to a small building with a jeep parked in front. Her hand is right where it should be, tucked into my elbow.
While Slate manages the paperwork with an airport official, we strap Skye into the back of the jeep. Done, he shakes hands with the uniformed man, jumps behind the wheel, and we make our way through the narrow streets.
It’s like a different country when he turns off the main road. Instead of touristy shops in pastel shades, the road is lined with shanties. The hovels with tin roofs come to an end at a small boat dock. There, an ancient dark man with bright eyes jumps off a motorboat older than him.
He eyes us warily as our driver holds forth his hand. “Kit said you’d be expecting us? I’m Slate and these are Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
At the mention of the hockey player’s name, the old man’s face brightens into a huge grin. “Sure ting, mon. I take you d’ere. Where you been? I waitin’ here and got all dee supplies.”
He eyes the baby. “No one tell me dat you need milk for da child.”
“No worries. I got a built-in supply.” Isabella laughs and pats her ample breasts but it takes the old gent a few seconds to get her meaning.
He smiles wider, a silver incisor gleaming in the sun. “A good mama. I like dat, missus.”
As we climb aboard and don our life preservers, the man tells us his name is Nick and starts the engine. It sputters, almost stalls, and spews out an oily black smoke. I’m almost surprised it can pull us away from land and out onto the ocean.
Leaning over, I marvel at the pristine water, the coral at the bottom, and colorful sunfish.
“Dats where most people go for fun.” Nick points out the giant towers of the Atlantis resort as we round the tip of Nassau, Two pink Disney-like hotels are joined by a giant arch high above ground.
He turns to me and winks. “You have da pretty wife. Maybe you like it more quiet, eh?”
The boat speeds across the clear ocean and I grin. Not quiet, Nick. More like my wife screaming out my name in heated passion.
Isabella, her blond hair blowing about, points at a cluster of pastel rectangles lining the shore.
“What are those?” She shouts over the roar of the motor.
Nick grins, pulls back on the throttle, and we slow. “Time shares. You see me if you want to buy one. I give you da very best deal.”
If I want a place, like Kit, I’ll buy an island, but nod politely and smile as he starts his spiel. When he realizes I’m not interested, he takes the boat back to top speed. Thirty minutes later, he kills the engine and we drift toward a dock, surrounded by a glistening sandy beach. Stone steps lead up a hill to a two-story building raised up on stilts.
“Dis island, how you know about it, huh?”
“My friend Melanie Quinn is a friend of the owner, Kit Tufek.” Isabella gives way too much information and Slate shoots me a worried look.
She needs to learn how to be less open with strangers We don’t know anything about this guy. We’re not only here for a vacation but as a safe house away from Xavier.
Nick misses what passes between me and my bodyguard as he unloads a crate of mangos onto the dock. “I remember Melanie. She was hiding from dat big football player. Whassis name? Cee Jay? What kind of name is dat?”
He continues to mutter about crazy Americans as he takes Izzy’s hand and helps her off the boat. Slate and I follow them up the steep steps to the main house, then climb more stairs to the top of the deck.
When we finish unloading the groceries, he shakes our hand, and jumps back into his small craft, the sun now blazing hot. “You call me if you need anyt’ing, okay?”
“Thanks, Nick. Will do.” I wave goodbye, happy to start a much-deserved family vacation.
“What a lovely place.” Izzy smiles at me with a palm to my cheek. “This will be perfect.”
It may be but Slate has slipped out his weapon as he walks in and out of every room. He too, noticed the cabin was left unlocked. Quickly, I slide her into my arms and kiss her soundly so she’s blissfully unawa
re.
For just a few days, I want to protect her from what I begin to surmise has been a living hell.
Our temperatures rise almost immediately and she closes her eyes. I keep mine glued down the hall until Slate gives a curt nod and places his gun back under his jacket.
He grabs his duffle bag, bounces down the stairs with his head darting side to side. “I’ll be right back, just going to check out the servant’s quarters and do a once around the block.”
The coast clear, I push Izzy down the hall. “Check out the closet in the master bedroom and I’ll get Skye.”
Before we left, I called my personal assistant and asked her to buy clothes, suitable for a tropical island. While Isabella does that, Skye fusses so I lift her out of the carrier and sniff…
Holy Fuck. That’s not good.
“Babe? Where’s the diaper bag?”
I promised myself to be a better father while we’re on vacation and this is my first giant step.
“Big red bag. Can’t miss it.”
While I plop the baby in the middle of the mattress in the spare bedroom and dump the contents of the bag, Isabella enters. She resembles a movie star, maybe Marilyn Monroe. The white bathing suit shows off her lovely breasts and minimizes the waist she’s so worried about.
“Oh my God. Thank you.” She hugs me from behind and kisses my back with her arms around my waist.
Suddenly she slips around my side, glances down at the exploding-diaper, and hands me the baby-wipes. “Oh dear. You sure you don’t want me to get this?”
“If I can handle a conference room full of angry CEO’s, I can change one messy diaper.” My bravado is truly amazing.
I hold her little feet, try not to breathe, and extract the diaper from under her bum. Then, I fold it with index finger and thumb. It gets tossed it into a bag held open by my wife.
“She needs a bath.” Izzy is a master of stating the obvious.
Luckily, there’s a whole ocean of warm water only a few feet away.
“I got this. Be right back.” Picking up Skye, I keep her at arm’s length and head out the door.
Maybe, just maybe, I can balance wife, baby, and the thousands of people all over the globe who count on me to keep their companies profitable.
Busted Play: The Series (Players, Books 1-6) Page 41
