I settle into the leather and go back to my book until Rey’s hand is on my shoulder. A displeased flight attendant is scowling at me, pointing to her ears. Right, safety nonsense.
My surroundings come alive again with the absence of the music that had been drowning them out, and my nose wrinkles. Air travel does not bring out the finest in humanity. A low voice crackles over the PA system and I’m suddenly more interested. Pilots are sexy. You’ve got to be some level of arrogant to believe you’re worthy of guiding a tin can thousands of miles above the earth through the clouds.
I’m tempted to haul up to the cockpit and see if he has any needs he’d like serviced, but I refrain. My urge is a good sign, though. For so long after that awful day with Hunter, I couldn’t think about sex. Couldn’t even consider kink. I still can’t think about getting into another relationship without my insides quaking. But I wouldn’t say no to hands clenching in my hair as I sucked the guy off, kneeling in front of that complex instrument panel. Between the uniform and the arrogance and the competence? I’d be such a goner. As it is, I shift in my seat, and Rey looks over at me, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head.
“Shut up,” I mouth and he leans over to kiss my cheek.
“I’m just glad you’re back, little one.”
Rey’s prodded me gently to get back in the game for the past six months, but I’m not ready. Once I get to California, maybe. But I don’t want to be in the scene in San Diego. Too much information disclosed to too many people. That’s a risk I won’t take ever again. Starting over is hard enough. I’ll figure something out. I have to. My desire not just for sex, but to be dominated, is a fire inside. If I’m not careful, it’s going to burn right through me. Would that it would burn the coil wound tight around my ribs. Rey does his best, but—
“Our ETA in lovely St. Louis is four-thirty, folks.”
My head whips around to the man whose hands I’ve placed myself in. I figured we were going to someplace warm where I could lounge on the beach. Not Missouri. What the hell?
“Why the fuck are you taking me to St. Louis?”
Rey looks at me in that thoughtful way he has, the way that makes me feel like he’s analyzing the very synapses in my brain. After a few seconds, he reaches out a hand to cup my jaw and drags a thumb across my cheek.
“Do you trust me?”
His voice is soft and earnest, touching someplace deep inside me. Do I trust him? Rey’s shepherded me through the darkest time in my life. Though I wouldn’t say he’s fixed me, I’m a thousand times better off than I would’ve been without him. So, as I’ve known since the day I met him, “Yes. I trust you.” And because I’m me, I add, “Further than I can throw you.”
He laughs. “Then don’t worry your pretty little head. Now be quiet, I need to know what kind of aircraft I’m dealing with here.”
I narrow my eyes, but his gaze is fixed on the ceiling, like he can see the exact spot the disembodied voice is coming from. I’m tempted to demand his attention, but shrug instead. I could press him and he’d give up the ghost. He always has when I’ve demanded it. Which is why it’s so goddamn easy to give in. What the hell do I care? What happens to me for the next week is out of my hands and in Rey’s. The bottom line is that there’s no place I’d rather be, no place I feel safer.
I’m his responsibility, and he’s going to take care of me. I lean back in my seat, listen to the safety information, and drift off, not waking until we land.
I slide into the backseat of the town car, my skirt-clad thighs sliding easily over the leather of the seats. Rey deals with the driver before slipping in beside me and tucking me under his arm, his broad hand solid and warm as it covers my shoulder.
“Where are we—”
He silences me with an elegant finger laid over my lips. “Hush. No questions, nosy parker. Everything will be revealed soon enough.”
I purse my mouth. He’s used his authoritative voice, the one that doesn’t invite conversation, so I don’t question him. Only sigh and snuggle in further, laying my head on his chest to watch the airport sights fly by, and then we’re on a highway, heading not toward, but away, from the city.
Rey’s toying with me, testing me, seeing if I won’t obey. But I’ll keep quiet, be a sweet, biddable thing for him. I have to be for somebody. My compliance is rewarded by his fingers trailing through my hair. After all this time, it’s still one of my favorite sensations in the world.
“That’s right. Put away your claws, kitten. Relax.”
Miles and miles later, the exits are getting farther apart. The neat, boxy homes of the suburbs bleed into bigger lots. We pull off, and then we’re surrounded by manicured lawns and carefully tended trees. Pretty. Settled against Rey, his steady heart pumping unfailingly under my ear, I watch as the houses get farther apart, some of them guarded with fences and gates.
The car pulls up to one of the sets of gates and they open almost as if by magic, but I locate the cameras easily. I bury my face against Rey to avoid their gaze in a reflex I can’t quite control.
He soothes me with a hand cradling the back of my head. “Would I bring you somewhere you wouldn’t be safe?”
I look up and shake my head just in time to see a house come into view. House is an understatement. The place is enormous. I have to count the columns that dot the front of the federal-style mansion, there are that many of them. Eight. Who needs that many freaking columns?
The car rolls to a stop, and I wait for Rey to open my door and offer me a hand out while the driver gets our bags from the back. An older woman in a modest, black-and-white maid’s dress opens the door and ushers us into the entry hall. She leaves us with a hushed “He’ll be right with you.”
I busy myself looking around the space so my mind doesn’t go completely off the rails. He who?
My gaze is skipping up the sizable center staircase when shoes enter my vision. Black, expensive, and freshly shined with knots that fall just so, grazed by tailored cuffs of grey trousers. My eyes widen as I take the rest of the man in. Probably in his early fifties, clean-shaven and wearing black-framed glasses. His face is built out of strong angles softened by the slight upturn of the corners of his narrow mouth. Handsome in an approachable way, but his bearing is that of someone used to getting what he wants. When his eyes lock with mine, I realize what he wants at this moment is me.
No. No way. Rey wouldn’t. He didn’t. But the closer the man gets, the surer I am. He would. He did. My suspicions are confirmed when the man stops in front of us. His smile grows slightly broader as he takes me in up close while Rey leans down, his breath warm in my ear.
“Kitten, this is Elliott. He wants to play.”
Thank you!
Thanks for reading Uncharted Territory. I hope you enjoyed it!
• If you’d like to know when my next book is available, you can sign up for my new release mailing list at www.tamsenparker.com, follow me on Twitter at @TamsenParker, or friend me on Facebook at www.facebook.com/tamsenparkerauthor.
• Reviews help readers discover books. I appreciate all reviews and the time it takes to share your thoughts.
• You’ve just read the third book in The Compass Series, and there’s more to come. Stay tuned for the next story out of this world.
Other Books by Tamsen
The Compass Series
Personal Geography
Intimate Geography
Uncharted Territory
Anthologies
Winter Rain
Acknowledgements
The list of people I have to thank is long. I’m grateful to have so many wonderful people in my life.
My CPs and betas who read the crap out of this book. Thank you so much, Lexi H., Piper, Shelley, Teresa, and AJ, for your time and thoughtful comments. I love you guys!
My other writer friends who have continued to be supportive and awesome—my small corner of the Twitterverse, my NECRWA chaptermates, and Romancelandia as a whole. I didn’t realize exactly what I was s
tumbling into, but now I can’t imagine life without you all.
My family, who have accepted me talking back to the voices in my head and who put up with deadline panics and drafting anxieties. Not to mention Mr. Parker’s picking up romance and publishing vocabulary like a pro. Glad to add more facets to his geekery.
My real-life friends, who talk to me in whispers about my filthy books while on toddler playdates and out loud over dinner and cocktails: RMW, MTS, AJ, LG, NW, AL, EH.
My copy editor, Rebecca, who has a way of making my characters sound even more like my characters through the magic of proper punctuation and meticulous word selection. Not to mention my wonderful proofreader, Michele, and my cover designer, Amber, who outdid herself by totally capturing Hunter.
And last, but certainly not least, to my readers and reviewers who stuck with me through this book. I know it wasn’t easy to read because it wasn’t easy to write. I promise more happy endings in the future!
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Uncharted Territory: © by Tamsen Parker
Copy Editing by Rebecca Weston
(www.raweston.com)
Cover Design by Amber Shah of Book Beautiful
(www.bookbeautiful.com)
ISBN 13: 978-1-942427-02-05
Kobo Edition
All rights reserved. Where such permission is sufficient, the author grants the right to strip any DRM which may be applied to this work.
Uncharted Territory (The Compass Series Book 3) Page 16
