by Brynne Asher
Appearances. Money. Status.
It’s all my mother ever cared about and, when her own mother is on her deathbed, she hasn’t changed a bit.
After she rattled off the word hospice, I needed no more information. I knew.
“Lillian, I’ll get you to your family. I promise.” Gabe’s strong and steady voice is so close, so warm. I think it’s his comforting me that makes my tears break through their barrier. When he realizes I’m crying, he takes my drink out of my hand. “Fuck. Come here.”
He turns me to him, sliding a thick arm under my legs and the other up my back. I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck, and the next thing I know, for the first time in days, I’m settled in a soft bed, but this time, with Gabriel Blackburn wrapped around me.
Gabe pulls me tight to his body and strokes my hair and face while shushing my cries.
“I’m s-s-sorry,” I try. “But hospice is there—it’s bad. I just don’t know what my life will be like without her. She’s the only g-good part about my family. I’m going to miss her so much.”
“Dammit, Lillian. I’m so sorry you’re not there. Sorry you felt like you had to be here this week because of me. It’s my fault.”
I shake my head against his chest, not wanting him to blame himself. “It just happened. It’s no one’s fault.”
“We’ll leave first thing in the morning. We have our passport papers all set. Try to sleep.”
I feel a little bad about wiping my face on his new t-shirt, but he’s holding me so tight and I don’t want to get up for a tissue.
He traps my chin in his fingers and lifts my face to his. This time he kisses me soft and slow, easing the pain in my heart with each swipe of his tongue. When he stops, he closes his eyes and breathes against my lips in a way he’s holding back, keeping some secret that’s causing him pain.
“You didn’t sleep at all last night. I should go to the sofa to sleep, since I snore and all,” I say.
His eyes open and then narrow on me just as quickly. “If you even think about leaving my arms, Lillian, we’re gonna have issues.”
With that, he grabs a blanket and pulls it over us before wrapping me back up. Since I don’t want to have issues with my boss’s boss, I decide to stay right where I am. He’s the one who has to listen to me snore and I offered him a reprieve.
I try not to think about my sweet Gran, Gabe being off limits, and especially my exhausting mother. I settle into Gabe and with the sun barely hanging on to its last rays of the day, we both fall asleep.
Either Gabe is lying about my snoring or it’s only taken him two days to get used to it, because we didn’t move away from one another’s touch all night.
Chapter 13
Forever is a Sappy Fucking Word
Gabriel Blackburn
When I was serving as a Ranger, there was nothing like the feeling of finishing a mission with all my brothers safe and accounted for. Never thought anything would top that high of being on my way home with all the shit of an assignment behind me.
Until today.
Speeding down the runway with Lillian safe at my side, I hadn’t realized how tightly I was wound.
I was exhausted last night but stayed awake until Lillian fell asleep. I called Tex one more time to check in and make sure plans hadn’t changed. He assured me the plane would be fueled and ready to go, then asked why we were headed to North Carolina instead of Indy. When I explained, he asked if he needed to book the private jet back to Indy after I dropped off my marketing rep. Tex was surprised to hear I planned to stay in Wilmington.
I’m thirty-five. I never had time for a woman when I was in the Army and, since I got out, I’ve spent all my time building my business. I’ve been with women here and there, but no one ever kept my interest and I’ve certainly never been obsessed with a woman before.
Ever.
The plane lifts off the ground and Lillian is buckled in next to me on the sofa. It’s just us with the pilot shut in the cockpit. She got up and showered again this morning. She’s makeup free and her hair, which is usually smooth and sleek down her back, is now wavy and still a little damp. Her fingers are in constant motion, picking at the material of her loose dress that hits her ankles, and the new sandals I bought her are slapping against her twitching foot.
“Hey.” I put a hand on her chin to tilt her face up to mine. She called to check on her grandmother this morning and whoever she talked to said there was no change overnight. “The flight is less than five hours. Try to relax.”
Her beautiful brown eyes are hesitant as she searches my face … for what, I wish I knew. “I know. Gran’s house manager said she was resting comfortably now that hospice has taken over her care. I thought I’d wake up this morning in knots but knowing she’s not in pain right now is comforting. She’s fought cancer for over a year and is in her mid-seventies. That’s not easy.”
“I’m sorry, Lillian. I wish there was more I could do. When we get back, you take as much time as you need. I’ll make sure your accounts are taken care of.”
I’d say I wished we weren’t ambushed, weren’t taken hostage, didn’t have to survive in the jungle for days, but I’m a selfish bastard. I’m happy we made it out unscathed—besides the blisters on her feet—but I’d do it all over again for the fucking wake-up call. I own the damn company and don’t give a shit what anyone says. Lillian Burkette isn’t a fling. This is happening and I’m not worried about anything biting me in the ass. That’s how sure I am about us.
She pulls her face out of my hand and looks back at her fingers, pinching her dress into a mess of wrinkles. Without looking at me, her voice is small when she says, “About work…”
The plane has leveled out, so I unbuckle and turn toward her. “What about it?”
She pulls in a big breath and, when she looks up, her face is masked with dread. “I don’t know what happened between us. One minute you hated me—the next you were blowing on my blisters and being sweet. Extenuating circumstances make people do weird things. I just don’t want what’s happened in the last few days to affect my job. I’m prepared to forget this ever happened and go back to politely ignoring one another. I don’t report directly to you so it won’t be a problem. I can pretend that nothing happened so there’s no need to worry.”
This must be what it feels like to have your heart torn in two. It goes to show I was right. It’s taken me thirty-five years … and sure, there’s an age difference. But if this is what heartbreak feels like, then I have no fucking desire to experience it, because right now, she’s got me by the balls. She’s so close to ruining me—she has no idea.
“Lillian.” My voice is thick even though I’m doing my best to control it. I unlatch her seatbelt and flip it to the side, pulling her close to me. Her eyes go big and she finally quits worrying her dress because she’s too busy worrying about my reaction. I wanted to get this out of the way last night but she was devastated by the news of her grandmother. It wasn’t the right time. “If you ignore me and pretend like our time in Nicaragua didn’t happen, I’ll be pissed. It did happen and it’s fucking real.”
Her hands come to my shirt to hang on. “But you’ve never liked me. For months, you made that clear. You give everyone at your company the time of day except me. I’m not blind, Gabe.”
“That’s because I was doing my best to control myself, be the kind of CEO his employees can trust without worrying that he’ll hit on them. I had to force myself to stay away from you. Had I gotten close, this would have happened. I was trying to do the right thing because the more I watched you and learned about you, I knew if you directed any of your goodness my way, I’d be screwed. And I was right.”
Throughout my diatribe, her face morphs into something between awe and unbelieving bewilderment.
I close some of the distance between us. “I did my best not to cross the line with you, Lillian. I really did. I’ve never crossed the line—never even thought about it or wanted to with anyone at work.
With you, the only way for me to fight it was to have no contact. I had to force myself to be an asshole to keep you at bay. But after this week, I don’t give a shit anymore if you’re my employee.”
Her eyes fall to my jaw, my chest, my arms, searching for answers that are right in front of her. I’m forced to give her a squeeze to get her attention.
“You’re serious?” she whispers.
I pull her into my lap, holding her close. “I’m fucking serious. And since I’m a serious person to begin with, that means something.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she admits. “I thought you hated me.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Just know, I want this more than I’ve wanted anything and I’ll prove it to you.”
I can’t wait another second. I dip my hand into the back of her lush hair and bring her mouth to mine.
She doesn’t argue or pull away. Instead, she presses her tits into my chest and if she could crawl inside me, I think she would. Pulling my hair with a carnal tug, she holds herself to me. I might’ve stopped myself last night, but now, there’s no way.
I let my hands explore. Really explore.
Dragging my touch up her side, I slide my hand between us to cup her tit. Her nipple is hard and erect under the thin fabric and, fuck me, she’s not wearing a bra. She’s firm, yet soft, and more than perfect, filling my hand.
All the control I’ve maintained around Lillian Burkette disintegrates in an instant.
I’ll do everything I can to demonstrate I’m worthy and, despite the way we started, this can be good. Because, for the first time in my life, the desire to prove myself is so overwhelming, I can’t control it.
“I’ll make you see what I know. Swear it. I’ll do anything for you,” I murmur between kisses.
She moans into my mouth and my blood rushes to my dick. She makes my head spin with desire and pure fucking determination to make her mine. I move my hand up to her shoulder. Her skin is soft and fair compared to mine—dark, calloused, and scarred. It makes me feel like an animal claiming its prey, but I don’t care because Lillian is gazing at me in a whole new way. I see it in her eyes.
If she’s my prey, then she’s running straight into the lion’s den.
I finger the strap on her dress that’s loose and precariously holding on. “You’re bare under this.”
I hardly recognize my own voice—it’s something between pained and needy.
She’s breathing hard, her tits rising and falling as her greedy lungs search for air. She brings her hand up to my jaw, running her fingers over my face. Her touch is a gift of permission.
It’s all I need.
Sliding the strap from her shoulder, her dress falls, exposing one perfect tit. I touch her, feeling her skin-to-skin for the first time. She’s pert but soft and not too big or small. For fear of sounding like a children’s nursery rhyme, if Lillian Burkette didn’t snore, she’d be damn near perfect.
I realize I’m toying with her pebbled nipple and staring at her half-naked chest like a virginal teenage boy—which I abso-fucking-lutely am not. I gaze up into her milk chocolate eyes to find them heavy and mirroring the desire I feel in my cock.
Her nipple is begging to be pinched. I’m thrilled to watch her eyes close and her head fall back. Soaring at thirty-thousand feet with only a door between us and the pilot, I don’t give a shit. Pressing into the center of her back, I bring her perfect tit to my mouth and suck.
She squirms in my lap, rubbing her thighs together, and, when I add my teeth, scraping her delicate skin, she presses her chest into my face for more.
Her small frame is easy to hold with one arm so I use my free hand to feel up her bare leg under her dress. Her skin is warm and smooth and when I reach to find her ass bare, I let go of her nipple with a pop.
I give her ass a squeeze and she opens her eyes. Her sweet, beautiful face is flushed, I’m not sure from which—embarrassment or desire.
“Please tell me you always go commando.”
She shakes her head and licks her lips. “Only in Nicaragua.”
Without taking my eyes off hers, I pull my hand over her naked hip. She doesn’t look away but her breathing shallows and I slow my touch, dragging a light finger down to her pussy.
“You’re smooth.”
She bites her lip.
I drag my hand lower and easily slide a finger between her lips that feel no less beautiful than the ones on her face. I can’t wait to kiss them.
“And wet,” I add.
Her eyes fall shut and she chokes back a moan.
“Lillian,” I call for her.
She has to swallow hard but she opens her eyes.
“I want you to look at me when I touch you for the first time.”
She blinks slowly before focusing on me.
“Spread your legs, baby.”
Wanton and ready, she does as I ask without hesitation. Her need is evident, her fingernails biting into my neck. I give myself a moment to soak this in, memorize it. Looking down at her spread across my lap, half-exposed, with shallow-breaths, and my hand up her dress, I’ll never forget the first time Lillian Burkette falls apart at my touch.
“Gabe.” She squirms in my lap and I look back up to her face.
“This is happening,” I inform her and I start to explore her pussy, getting to know her. “I don’t care what it took to get us here. I want your sweet nature in my life. I not only want your brownies and cakes, but I fucking want you to bake them in my house. And Lillian,” I pause as she exhales in a huff when I pinch her clit and has to work to keep her eyes open when I slide a finger into her for the first time, “I’m a greedy bastard. I want your sweet smiles directed at me in a way that we both know I’ve claimed you.”
She whimpers, not able to keep her eyes open any longer. The way I treated her up until a few days ago, it’s a miracle I’m here right now. A miracle I don’t plan to take for granted and will do everything in my power to keep.
Forever is a sappy fucking word used in the romance novels my sisters would whisper about. But right here, right now with Lillian, it’s the only word circling in my mind.
If I could put this plane on auto and throw the pilot out the door, I’d strip off her dress, but that probably isn’t the best idea.
Something to look forward to.
She starts to move her hips against my hand, so I give her a second finger, loving how tight she is. When I put more pressure on her clit, she widens her legs, offering me everything. She buries her face in my neck as her body begins to tense.
“Gabe,” she moans and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
“You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t deserve you but I’m going to take you anyway.”
With that, she falls apart in my arms, coming hard. I keep at her clit, circling, taking every ounce of her orgasm. I’m greedy for it.
She presses herself to my chest, clinging to me. I wrap her up but keep my hand up her dress, alternating between drawing circles on her bare ass and lower back. She doesn’t move but lets her breathing even as we sit here with only the hum of the Cessna surrounding us.
She starts to push away, but I hold her close. “Don’t. This is just you and me. We’ve got a long flight and you’re gonna have one helluva day when we get you home. Let me hold you.”
And that’s how we sat for most of the flight. Lillian curled in my lap, her bare tit pressed up against my chest, with my hand up her dress.
Little did I know, keeping Lillian Burkette safe in Nicaragua would be a breeze compared to the shit-show that was in store for me.
Chapter 14
I’ll Hold Your Hand
Lillian Burkette
“Um, Gabe?”
I look over at him as he drives me to my childhood home. He’s downright gorgeous. He hasn’t shaved since the day we were ambushed on that remote road in Nicaragua. I’m well acquainted with his whiskers at this point and so is my left breast. Our time in the private jet was beyond
… well, hot.
Amazing.
Out of this world.
But then after?
I’m pretty sure only Gabriel Blackburn could hold me in his lap with my top half-off and his hand up my dress while I’m wearing no panties and it be so sweet, I’d never want it to end.
I could have sat there forever. And, I did, for most of the flight.
He throws me a glance and sexy smirk that reminds me of every moment on the plane. “What, baby?”
“Turn left up here,” I rattle off, my heart starting to speed. “I, well, should’ve taken the time on the flight to explain some things.”
He reaches over and takes my hand as he steers our rental around the corner with the other. “I wouldn’t change our time on the plane for anything. Tell me now.”
I let him hold my hand and squeeze him tight. “My family … they have some issues.”
He doesn’t look at me when he mutters, “Just wait until I tell you about my Great Aunt Libby.”
“Who?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind. Tell me how odd your family is to make me feel better about mine.”
“I’m not sure if odd is the right word.” I take a deep breath. Vindictive and selfish come to mind. Think Mean Girls but switch it up with middle-aged adults who play in high society circles. “Take the next right. I told you how much my Gran means to me. How wonderful she is and how I grew up in her house, right?”
