Intercepted

by Alexa Martin

  “And, babe, just so you know, you won’t be getting much sleep until we get back to Colorado,” he whispers in my ear.

  The breathing I couldn’t slow down suddenly disappears and my eyes I didn’t even realize were closed fly open. But he doesn’t stop there.

  “I have you to myself. No jobs, no responsibilities, no pain-in-the-ass press running bullshit stories. Just you and me and a bed. And if you think I’m going to let these next days go by without me getting my hands on you every possible second, you’re out of your mind. I’ve been waiting all season long to have unrestricted access to you and I’m not missing a single opportunity to do so . . .” He moves his hands to the top of my leggings and starts to roll them down and over my hips. “You are out of your mind.”

  By the time he’s finished with his little speech, my leggings are somewhere behind me, my bare ass is on the leather seat, and I’m staring at him openmouthed like he’s some kind of sex magician . . . which is pretty much what he is.

  “I . . . you . . . please.” I barely mange to stutter out. His words are like foreplay to foreplay. All he has to do is whisper in my ear and I’m primed and ready to go. And considering Gavin is sitting between my spread legs, almost eye level with the proof of what his words do to me, he will soon find out. But he never responds. He just sits back on his heels, both hands wrapped around my ankles, and watches me.

  “Gavin.” I try to make his name come out sounding strong, but it’s more of a whine . . . or a moan . . . a whoan? “Why are you staring at me? Please, touch me.”

  “I will.” He finally breaks the silence. “Just give me a second to look at you.”

  He drops my gaze and lets his eyes roam my half-naked body. But he’s not just ogling. Yes, the look in his eyes is appreciative—even as it follows the unfortunate curve of my even-more-pronounced-while-sitting-down tummy—but there is something more. Something deeper is at work behind his eyes. I don’t know what it is. All I know is it’s so powerful it’s almost physical. Goose bumps break out over my skin wherever he looks. I try to close my legs when he gets there, but his hands at my ankles keep them open.

  “You are a fucking goddess, Marlee.” He looks back to my face. “Every inch of you is fucking perfection and I cannot believe I got lucky enough to have you. That I’m the person who gets to experience the beauty that only you can bring me.”

  Ummm. . . .

  Wow.

  “I think most people would say I’m the lucky one,” I whisper back. My inability to accept a compliment is still fully intact.

  “Then most people would be wrong. Because my life was nothing more than an empty condo and work before you. And now it’s overflowing with beauty.”

  Holy shit.

  “Holy shit.” I make my thoughts known. “Are you trying to ruin me?”

  “I wasn’t, but if that’s the result of telling you, then I guess so.” He lets go of my ankles and his hands start moving up my legs. “I know our relationship hasn’t been an easy road so far, but know I plan on telling you how much you mean to me almost as often as I show you.”

  He finishes talking at the same time his hands reach the top of my legs and he dips one of his fingers inside of me. Between this and everything he just said to me, I almost come immediately. My back arches off of the seat, my eyes snap shut, and there’s not a chance in hell I could tame the moan coming out of my mouth.

  “Look at me, baby.”

  I barely hear him over the roaring of blood in my ears and opening my eyes has never taken so much effort. But when I look at him, I know it was worth it. Because as soon as our eyes meet, he adds another finger and drops his mouth to my sex.

  Now feeling it is one thing—one amazing, wonderful thing. But seeing it?

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  Gavin doesn’t drop our eye contact either. With his fingers inside me and his tongue on my most sensitive part, he watches me with hooded eyes. It’s the most intimate moment of my life and I almost cry when I feel the tightening at my core beginning to build. I try to hold it off, wanting to stay in this moment for as long as possible, but I can’t control it. I freeze for a second before my entire body starts shaking uncontrollably. Colors explode behind my eyelids and my head flies back. I scream so loudly, I know without a doubt the entire crew—and maybe even people on the ground—can hear me. But I don’t care, I’m not holding back anything.

  “See?” Gavin says between kisses up my chest. “Fucking beauty.”

  Feeling wrecked in the best possible way, the only words I can manage are, “Inside. Now.”

  “Bossy,” he says, but I can feel his body shaking with laughter on mine. “But if you insist.”

  I pull off my shirt and bra, throwing them over my head to join my leggings, and push my breasts against his bare chest. “I insist.”

  His breath hitches and I watch as his blue eyes turn navy. Then, without a word, he picks me up and flips us around so he’s in my seat. He positions me just so and when I drop my hips down, he’s inside of me, filling me completely.

  “Oh my god,” I breathe into his throat.

  Even though we’ve done this multiple times now, it still takes me a minute to adjust to his size. Gavin never rushes me. He lets me take my time while his hands draw circles on my back.

  Once the small bite of pain fades, an urgent, throbbing need replaces it.

  Up and down.

  Slowly at first, I begin to move.

  Up.

  Down.

  Gavin’s hands drop beneath my ass, lifting me to the very tip of his erection, then letting me drop.

  I start moving faster, harder. Taking as much of him as I can.

  “Fuck yes.” Gavin encourages me with a strained voice. The need in his voice only makes my need for him grow.

  He drops his free hand between my legs and starts rubbing delicious circles while I rock my hips, keeping him deep inside of me.

  It sneaks up on me this time.

  I clench around him and a soundless scream rips from the back of my throat. Gavin tenses underneath me. His fingernails dig into my back and even though I can’t see it, I know tomorrow there will still be scratches as a reminder of this moment.

  My body, still trembling and glistening with sweat (being on top is a legitimate workout), collapses down onto Gavin. I rest my forehead on his, willing my breathing to calm, but when his lips move to touch mine, I know it’s a lost cause.

  “That.” Deep breath. “Was.” Deeper breath. “Amazing.” Exhale.

  “It always is.” Gavin’s mouth curves into a cocky smile. “Champagne and then ready to go again?”

  Is he insane? Again?!

  “Absolutely.”

  #MileHighClubInitiation

  * * *

  • • •

  SINCE WE DIDN’T fly over the mountains, all I know is we flew east.

  We step off the plane and the first thing I notice is the cold. Not the dry, easy-to-deal-with cold I’m used to, but the wet, sink-to-your-bones, never-feel-warm-again cold you can only get when you’re near a large body of water.

  Now, maybe if I hadn’t indulged in the rest of the champagne or my mind wasn’t still focused on the new mouth and finger combination Gavin came up with on the plane, I would’ve put two and two together. I would’ve come to the fairly obvious conclusion that we were in New York before we walked out of the front door of the small airport and straight into the smiling faces of Thompson and Elizabeth Pope.

  But I don’t.

  I put my best plastic smile on my face, push everything Madison told me about them to the back of my mind, and try to pull myself together to meet his parents.

  “Mom . . . Dad . . . what are you guys doing here? What happened to the driver I hired?” Gavin sounds as surprised as I feel.

  Oh th
ank goodness. I’m not gonna lie, if his idea of a good surprise was meeting his parents after a long flight, I was going to be a little concerned about our future.

  “You can’t expect we’d let some driver see you before us.” Her eyebrows go up as her attention shifts toward me. “We weren’t aware you’d be bringing a guest though.”

  “Mom. I told you about Marlee.”

  “Oh yes. Marlee. The one who got you injured.”

  No. Nope. Never. Get me back on the plane, I’m going home.

  “Mom!” Gavin yells at the same time his dad bursts into laughter.

  “I’m kidding, Gavin. Always so serious.” Mrs. Pope pats him on the arm and turns her somewhat appraising gaze toward me. “We’ve heard so much about you, Marlee. When his sister called to tell us Gavin was bringing you, we knew we had to rush to meet you before he hid you away for the rest of your visit.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Pope,” I force out. Never in my life have I been more aware of my less-than-desirable appearance. “I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

  “Sorry, Gavin. I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how your mom gets when she wants something.” Thompson Pope, if I may say, is so freaking handsome. If he’s any indication of how well Gavin is going to age, sticking around is now mandatory.

  Gavin doesn’t say anything in return. He just nods and runs a hand through his hair.

  “Honey. I don’t understand this hair. Can’t you get a haircut? Remember the one you had in high school? You looked so handsome.”

  “I’ve been bugging him to get a haircut for the last month and he won’t give in,” I tattle. “I guess he likes the Jesus do he’s got going.”

  Gavin groans, I stifle a laugh, and if I’m not mistaken, Mrs. Pope’s smile becomes a little more genuine.

  “Well, get in the car, you two.” She claps her hands. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Gavin grabs our luggage to put in the trunk and when he does, his mom slides into the back seat, motioning for me to sit next to her. I hesitate for a moment, worried about the proximity in relation to me having sex hair and possibly smelling like alcohol, but I get in anyway. Better to be thought of as a nice floozy than a bitchy one.

  “Don’t you dare turn on rap, Pope.” I poke his shoulder when I see him reach for the radio. “You know this is my favorite song.”

  “This is my favorite song too!” Mrs. Pope says about the country music filling the car. “What other songs of his do you like?”

  After we’ve successfully matched our top five favorite songs, I think I’ve won Mrs. Pope over. #SaintLukeBryan

  * * *

  • • •

  AFTER GAVIN GETS into the front seat, following a string of hushed words about big-mouthed sisters and pushy moms, we slowly make our way across Long Island to a little city named Oyster Bay.

  Gavin had told me before he was from here, but I could never picture it.

  Now I know why. I wasn’t able to imagine how a town so close to one of the largest cities in the world could still be so charming and peaceful.

  I love it and the only thing better than the scenery is the company.

  I was nervous to meet Gavin’s parents, and after everything Madison had spit at me, I was straight-up petrified.

  But now, meeting them at last, I couldn’t love them more. Mrs. Pope—or Beth as she keeps telling me to call her—is my favorite. If I didn’t love my parents so much and it didn’t make the guy I’m sleeping with my brother, I would ask her to adopt me.

  To pass time as we’re stuck in traffic, Beth chats my ear off, filling me in on stories of Gavin’s past. Like when he was four and refused to go to the bathroom in the house and would run to the backyard every time he had to go. And the time he got suspended from school because a boy was picking on his sister, Emerson, so he went to her class and refused to leave until the boy apologized. It’s creepy to swoon over middle school Gavin, isn’t it?

  “Is this your home?” I ask Mrs. Pope when we reach the end of the long, tree-lined driveway.

  “No, this is Gavin’s. Isn’t it adorable? And wait until you walk around the property. It has access to the water. It’s cold now, but during summer, it’s really very lovely.”

  “I bet it is.” I have to use all of my self-restraint not to press my forehead against the window to get a better view before I open the door to take it in in all of its classic glory.

  The house is the polar opposite of his condo back in Denver. Where his condo is everything modern and clean lines, his house in New York is a classic colonial on a lot of land. It’s stunning, it’s just not what I expected.

  “Well, my dear.” Mr. Pope draws my attention as he sets luggage on the brick-lined walkway ahead of me. “This is where we leave you or that wife of mine won’t let you out of her sight. Don’t let Gavin sneak you away without seeing us again.”

  “I won’t Mr.—I mean Thom.” I catch myself. “Thank you for the ride. It was so nice meeting you.”

  “The pleasure was all mine,” he whispers before giving me a quick hug.

  “Marlee!” Mrs. Pope calls from where she’s standing with Gavin. “Now don’t you dare let him keep you away from us. We love you already and want to see more of you before you go home. And Emerson will kill Gavin if she’s the only one who misses you.”

  Well, of course, it would be a shame for anybody to miss out on my marvelous presence. #Sarcasm

  “I won’t. Now that I know where we are, he won’t be able to get me back on a plane without meeting her and letting me squeeze on that scrumptious grandson of yours.”

  “Isn’t he yummy?” Hearts appeared in her eyes the instant I mentioned Finn, Gavin’s eighteen-month-old nephew. It’s understandable. I’m not even related to him and I’m obsessed with the blue-eyed, head-full-of-red-hair little guy.

  “He really is.”

  “Okay then.” She claps her hands and rounds the car to the passenger door. “Now that I’m convinced you two won’t disappear, we will leave you. Let’s go, Thompson.”

  “Coming, dear,” he says from beside me, the words so sugary sweet they sound anything but.

  They get in the car, Mrs. Pope waving to us and her lips moving a million miles a minute while Mr. Pope nods along and drives away.

  “So.” Gavin pulls my attention from beside me. “Those are my parents.”

  I turn to him and for the first time, he appears shy and nervous. I don’t know if it’s because of his parents or if he’s nervous to show me this part of him, but after all of the not-so-shiny parts of my life he’s witnessed? He has no reason to ever worry.

  “They’re amazing. I love them.” I give him a quick peck on the lips and squeeze his bum. “Now show me around this place! It’s beautiful.”

  “I want to show you my bedroom, but if I take you there first, you won’t be seeing the rest of this place until tomorrow.”

  I have no idea how he manages to be so nonchalant when he says those things.

  #Perv

  “Oh.” I feel the now familiar heat spreading across my cheeks. “Well if we must . . .”

  “Oh thank god,” his whispers to the sky before looking back to me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He was right. Once we got into bed, I didn’t get the house tour until the next morning.

  Thirty-three

  I never thought of myself as an East Coast girl. I love Colorado, and there wasn’t one place I ever went to that was able to shake that belief.

  Until Oyster Bay.

  In our three days here, we’ve explored downtown, visiting some of his favorite places from his childhood, and he even took me to the cemetery after I admitted my strange fascination with them. But most of our time is spent in his amazing house, which is filled with contradicting styles. The modern clean furniture Gavin likes
contrasts with the original 1888 moldings. Marble counters and stainless-steel appliances on turn-of-the-century tiles. A giant flat-screen TV tops his hand-carved fireplace. This is probably the most wonderful home I’ve ever stepped foot in.

  “I don’t even like to cook, but I think I would learn just to have an excuse to be in your kitchen.” It’s late in the afternoon on the third day of our trip and we still haven’t seen his family again.

  “Too bad I don’t have much food to cook because watching you walk around my kitchen wearing what you’re wearing is definitely on my bucket list.” He sticks his head around the freezer door to look at me in nothing but my lace panties and matching cami. “But for now, we can either have frozen lasagna or order in. Which do you want?”

  “Hmmm . . . give me a second. This feels like a really big decision,” I joke, about to pick the lasagna when the doorbell rings.

  “Fuck. Who the hell is that?”

  “How should I know?” But I do have a feeling. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s probably a family member. Because of that, I take off up the stairs when he goes to open the door. Last thing I want is for his mom to see me sitting in her son’s kitchen half naked.

  Right before I’m about to slam the bedroom door shut, an unfamiliar voice drifts upstairs, and I’m able to keep the door from closing at the very last second. “Were you planning on seeing your nephew before you left or do you think you’re too good for us now?”

  Oh shit.

  I hope I’m wrong, but I’m thinking his sister may not be as big of a Marlee fan as his mom.

  “We’re going to call mom tomorrow. Marlee’s been asking when she gets to meet you and Finn,” Gavin tells her, and I want to cheer. I was always Chris’s excuse to get out of things. I love how Gavin always takes the fall, even when he doesn’t have to.

  “Why do I doubt that?” Emerson says, each word dripping with disdain.

  Good news? I was right!