Falling High (Experienced Men Book 3)

by Savannah May

  Falling HIGH

  Experienced Men Book 2

  by

  Savannah May

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.

  Copyright © 2017 Savannah May. All rights reserved. Including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the author.

  Version 2017.2.3

  FALLING HIGH

  Chapter One

  Kendall

  “Nooooo, there's absolutely no way I can do that.”

  Oops.

  That came out a little too forcefully. Never a good plan to pile on the negatives when talking to your boss. Specially not when she's a fierce little bulldog aka a ball-buster. I don't know why James hired her although I can guess. It's kind of not fair though because when you're going to expand the business and create a new management position, searching among the current employees that work night and day plus all weekend would be a nice idea.

  Oh well. I guess the next time the chance to sleep with the boss comes up, I'd better grab it. Whoever that boss happens to be. Unless it's the current one of course. She's standing on the other side of her glass desk with one eyebrow cocked in excessive shock at my resistance to her orders.

  I just stare back, waiting to gauge the extent of her fury before groveling with an apology and explanations.

  “It's not like I just asked you to go feed orphans in Africa,” she half snarls at me.

  “Seriously Monica, I'd actually prefer that over throwing myself out of a plane.”

  “Nonsense, what are you afraid of?”

  “Um, heights. The parachute not opening. Crashing face first into the ground.”

  “But it's for charity,” she wheedles, same as she does asking me to work all weekend.

  “And it's not only one skydive, it's three.”

  Even one I doubt I could down enough cosmos to manage even one. Okay maybe one, but only because I'd be flying through the air before I realized I'd taken the dare to hurl myself out of a speeding plane. I've been known to pull a few crazy stunts after a cocktail or ten.

  “Well any monkey can throw herself out of a plane one time.”

  “It's three times the likelihood of plummeting into the ground. I just can't,” I insist. “You'll have to ask someone else.

  Not that she asked.

  I am actually quivering here. Although whether it's from fear of a triple skydive for our client's latest marketing burst, or the way Monica is looking at me wondering whether she'd get into any kind of hot water for giving me my marching orders right now, I can't quite tell.

  “It has to be you. The client demanded you particularly.”

  “Me?” I squeak. “The client requested that I do this insane stunt?”

  “Don't ask me why you, because I can't figure that out either.”

  “But I've hardly had any contact with Derek Lowell,” I say, all hope retreating.

  “Well, he wants you and it's all decided. There'll be press there to record the event too, so try to look decent.”

  Faceplant.

  She wags the back of her fingertips at me regally, letting me know I'm dismissed from her presence chamber.

  I back away, thinking I'd drop in a curtsy and kiss her hand if it would get me out of this gig. I go back to my office with beads of sweat on my brow.

  Damn.

  “What are my options here?” I ask Carla. when we meet for happy hour cosmos at PJs.

  She and I used to work together in event planning at Madison Square Garden, until I moved to Torquay – event planners to the stars.

  “From what you say about your new boss, only the sudden loss of all your limbs. No, even then she could tell you to throw yourself over the edge.”

  “Thanks, very helpful,” I say with heavy irony.

  Then I smile sweetly at Raul, the bartender and he gives me the coming-right-up nod.

  “Anyway it might be fun. You might meet some hot cameraman at the after.”

  “Girl, you are all about the after parties. I won't be doing any afters if I've been carried out in a blue bag.”

  “Don't be so dramatic, Babes. Just pitch up and tell them you're sick. You've got sinuses or allergies to fresh air. God, I don't know. Pop a Xanax and just do it. Hurl yourself over the edge. Because you've got the best job in the city and you do not wanna lose it over a few stray nerves.”

  “Hurl being the right descriptive.” I down the rest of my cocktail and pull the fresh one toward me.

  Raul appears with some mini shrimp tacos.

  “Compliments of the chef,” he says with a wink.

  Thereby guaranteeing himself a thirty per cent tip and the hope of something more. I guess he wouldn't mind going home with one of the girls lining the bar tonight. And he is kinda hot in a rough and tumble kind of way. Maybe I should return the attention, let him know the game's on. It's been too long. I could really do with loosening up before this weekend when I'm going to be in a rigid state of terror.

  A few multiple orgasms on Raul's active tongue wouldn't go amiss. Except this is one of our favorite places to hang early evening and I don't want any potential badass feeling ruining that. You never know how people are going to react post-coital these days. Seems like all I hear about is stalkers and weirdos.

  “So Derek directly requested that you do this triple skydive charity thing. What is it a marketing push?”

  “Yeah after that savings scandal. But why me? I've never even spoken to him personally.”

  “Aren't you friends with his girlfriend?”

  “Only since I organized her Hamptons party. She said she's only using us for all her events from now on. I've got her wedding too.”

  I blush slightly remembering the hot guy I brushed hands with at that event, when I handed him his place card. He looked at me like it would be nothing to rip me out of my clothes and devour me like lion's prey. But of course I was working, not there to socialize with gorgeous hunks with bodies built for all kinds of activity. Anyway he spent the evening with some blond in a tight dress. Typical.

  “So that's it then. Can't you ask her to get you out of this?”

  “She was my first call.”

  “And?”

  “She just told me it was all going to be fine. I'd get loads of publicity and it would be great for my career. Not to mention everything else in my life.”

  “So there you go.”

  Raul is wiping the sweat from the glasses along the bartop and he gives me the eye before moving down to the other end. Carla represses a giggle. It's alright for her, all newly hot for her new main squeeze. Is there anything more inspiring and more sickening than your girlfriend falling in love? It's great and I'm genuinely mega happy for her. And if she's found a keeper, that at least means there are still possibilities out there. Even if they're about as regular as a genuine deal on Canal Street.

  “I'm not going to resort to the bartender,” I tell her.

  “No, hold out for what you really want. Bartenders are only for renewed virgins.”

  “I've got about a week to go before I reach that status.”

  As I drive a rental car out to the Island for my deadly weekend, my nerves kick in with every
mile I come closer to the airfield.

  I check into the Hyatt and head straight down to the spa area for some much needed unwinding. The hot tub is empty and so I pull my bikini top off under the water, loving how the bubbles froth around my agonized nipples.

  I'll just have to be my own cherry-popping bartender. My hand slips between my thighs and strokes my swollen clit.

  Chapter Two

  Hunter

  I need a taste of everything. I get restless and need to change it up. And it's always been the same with women. I've tried the dating route but the need for change gets the better of me. How can one job or one woman ever be enough for an entire lifetime?

  What's that saying? Caught between a rock and a hard place? Well I appear to be stuck between a lock and a soft place. A decadently warm place I've had on my mind for freaking weeks now. Look, I don't do pining and wishful thinking, specially not when it comes to women. I don't need one girl taking over my thoughts and therefore my actions.

  Because you know how that goes – they're all pliable and willing for a month, then it's stay home with me and where are you? I'm too much of a wild man to be tied to one woman only. Girls know that about me and if they can't deal with it, then they move on to some more reliable accountant willing to set them up with the house in Westchester. But it ain't gonna be me.

  Not to be an arrogant ass, which fuck knows, I've been accused of more than once. But if you can have any woman you want – yeah, any – why are you gonna shut the door on that, to be stuck with one that's soon gonna be all over you and not in the right way?

  So when I saw Kendall at Derick and Alicia's party I knew I wanted her with a heat I'd never known before. And maybe that's what this is about. This crazed attempt to make that happen, so I can get her out of my thoughts and move on to the next. Because the last couple of weeks since that brief glimpse, have not been remotely normal for me.

  “What the fuck, just bed her and get it over with,” my brother told me, exasperated when we went out on yet another weekend and I was too distracted to make the game work.

  “I haven't even called her yet. I'm still a long way from getting her in my bed.”

  “A long way? That's what I'm talking about,” he told me. “The Hunter I know so well lives up to his name. He only requires a babe to accept a cocktail, before she's begging him to take her back to his place.”

  “Maybe two if she's playing hard to get,” I quipped.

  “And maybe not even one if she's heated.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “That's my boy.” He slaps my back.

  Rhino's always gotta remind me he's older. Even though it's only by less than three minutes. And wiser. And got a bigger dick. That last one is debatable by the way.

  “Are you fellas using that stool?”

  The blond squirmed and jiggled her way between us, her eyes holding Rhino's imprisoned as she grazed across his cock, while her round ass cheeks shimmied over mine. Her glass was one mouthful from empty and when she released Rhino from her hold over him, she downed the rest in one.

  “You need refilling,” he told her, making it a statement.

  “Always,” she purred. “Need filling.”

  Rhino's eyes flashed at me, letting me know the play was about to begin. One thing about Rhino, he always knows exactly which girls are up for dealing with both of us. For some girls in New York it's become a rite of passage to bed two men at once. Being adored from both sides is an experience their hungry bodies can't get enough of.

  Being twins, Rhino and I are accustomed to doing everything together. The first girl we kissed, way back in elementary, had to take both of us on her lips. Still, since Rhino's grown his hair down his back and wears it wild or in a man bun, while I rock business short, we look a lot less similar.

  The girl's hand is resting on Rhino's thigh, her painted nail thumbing the side of his bulge. He's devouring her ample cleavage, the tops of her tits spilling from the tightly buttoned top.

  He bats me another look filled with meaning and I slide up to the bar close to Cindy or Candy, something like that, and take my usual post. She flicks a look over her shoulder and writhes herself back into my ripped chest wall.

  “Oooh, someone's got hard ridges,” she coos.

  “Yeah? You should feel mine if you like it hard,” Rhino tells her.

  She doesn't waste a second to oblige. Her fingers move up to his abs and she lets out a little gasp as though mega impressed by his rack.

  “You like that?”

  “Oooooh I doooo. I like it a lot.”

  I know Rhino wants me to engage in the play. To ramp up the joking competition between us to get Cindy or Candy all breathless with the attentions of two competitive macho guys. To satisfy him I step up to the plate and before she's even finished her new Cosmo, we're heading for the door and a cab.

  “Wow, this is some place,” she breathes all kitteny when I unlock the door to our apartment.

  The view uptown is pretty spectacular, plus the Diptyque candles have been burning since we went out. The entire place is filled with a seductive aroma.

  “Isn't is dangerous to leave candles burning alone,” she whispers, wrapping her fingers around the stem of the champagne glass I hand her and taking mine along.

  She tugs me to her and turns up her face to plant a kiss on my mouth while her other hand slides down over my cock. Rhino comes up behind her and cups her hips in both his huge hands as he buries his face in the crease between the side of her neck and her shoulder. She throws back her head with a loud moan and leans back into him. This one's gonna be a screamer for sure. I hope there won't be any more complaints to the co-op board because we barely got through our last executive meeting.

  It took us working all our charm on the ladies, an elderly pair not immune to a couple of hard bucks. Plus a couple of thousand dollar bottles of scotch, delivered to the gentlemen of the board, before the threat went away.

  “Let's say we like to live dangerously,” Rhino husks into her skin.

  He nips along her neck as one hand slides up to cup her full breast from beneath with a promise of more. He pinches the hard nipple bud and twists it out so she lets out a squeak of surprise at his strength on her body.

  His fingers hook under the straps of her top and tug them over her shoulders so her tits pop free. His eyes dart up to me, questioning. Why aren't I getting in there? Normally I'd be all over her. Four hands caressing her body, mounding her tits between us, so she lost all awareness of which hand belonged to which wolf. Until she just wallowed in the excess of pleasure building to eruption in her little body being completely dominated by two huge men.

  Her ass is grinding back into Rhino's groin and she's already twisting her head side to side from his hands squeezing her pretty impressive tits until it spills between his hard fingers. But I'm just not feeling it tonight. It's been like this for a few weeks now and I can tell Rhino's getting frustrated with my limp behavior.

  But I'm not gonna force it, not even for him. I know he prefers to have me along for the ride, sharing is just what we're used to. But he's also more than enough man for one woman to handle. Cindy or Candy won't go home unbruised or unswollen when he's finished with her.

  Chapter Three

  Kendall

  The hotel I'm at is a few miles from the airfield. But I'm grateful to Derek's generosity, because usually I'd be in one of the motel inns beside the highway, only being a junior at the firm. Sadly I can't take part in the huge buffet breakfast. My nerves are tingling at every pore of my skin and I could well throw up if I do more than drink some hot tea.

  I drive to the airfield where I'll be doing the weekend training and we're shown into a hanger to sign our lives away on what seems like a frighteningly excessive number of waiver forms. There's another catering table with coffee urns and a spread of incredible looking donuts and pastries. With no breakfast, my mouth immediately salivates over a cinnamon cruller but I don't dare. No way I want to embarrass mysel
f by bringing it all back up again.

  “Right then recruits,” a shaved-head man with a huge barrel chest, taut from the muscle pressing at his army tee, calls us to order. “My name's Dennis McCartney, but you will call me Sarge. I'm your trainer this weekend.”

  His accent is British but with a strange tone that must be a slang or dialect. Maybe it's meant to make his 'recruits' more intimidated. A group of girls, obviously on some kind of girl's weekend, giggle as he tells us that we'll be under him for the duration. His eyes land on them and take in their matching pink tee shirts, each printed with 'Shell's Twenty-First' in hot pink script. Twenty-one? They all look about twelve to me. I'm only six years older than them but feel ancient.

  The rest of our training group is made up of couples, looking for a fun activity to share. Probably thinking skydiving together will bond them forever. Something to tell the gran-kids when the “how did you meet?” question arises. Those coupled girls aren't quaking under Sarge's stare. They've got a man at their side to protect them. A man that knows the macho rules and will defend his girl from any intimidation.

  Why don't I have that? I'm perfectly capable of sticking up for myself but sometimes it's tiring.

  “And apparently we've got a celebrity along for the ride.”

  Sarge's eyes swivel straight to me and I shrivel. While not usually a wallflower, or shy to stand up for myself, I guess this entire scenario is just freaking me out. I shake my head no, not me. My eyes stretch wide like a doe in the headlights. I just wish everyone would stop staring at me.

  “Aren't you Kendall Ross? Taking the course for a charity gig on Sunday where all the TV stations will be filming your third jump?”

  Now everyone is gawping at me but none as intense as Sarge. I nod my head in acquiescence. That would be me.

  “If I make it to Monday,” I pipe up, determined not to be repressed by the Special Forces ex.

  “You'll make it, Movie Star,” he barks at me. “No one fails under Sarge's watch.”