by Zoey Oliver
“All right, let’s hear it.”
He holds me tight as he lays out the plan for me and his hands drift over my body. It’s nice. It’s gentle, his exploration of me, like he’s just reminding himself of what he nearly lost. I don’t think he means to, but it’s driving me crazy and by the time he’s explained his whole plan, I’m ready to straddle him right here on the couch.
“So, what do you think?” he asks, his rough thumb absently drawing slow circles over my hipbone.
I nod. “It could work.”
“That’s it?”
“What else should I say?” I ask, nearly gasping at the way his thumb sends shocks of hot need directly between my legs.
“Well, you almost always have something to say about my plans. You’re not exactly the agreeable type, you know? You can be kind of opinionated.”
I turn and try to look annoyed, but then I see the uncertainty in his eyes and it melts away.
“Well, if you really want to know my opinion…”
“You know I do.”
I turn and kiss him, my hand on his chest, my heart on my sleeve. I kiss him with everything I’ve got and he growls, his hands sliding down to my hips. I’m pushing him back on the couch, throwing one leg over his hips so I’m straddling him when we come up for air.
“I like the way you think,” he says, grinning.
“Your friend’s not coming back anytime soon, is he?”
He shakes his head. “He doesn’t even have a key. He’ll just have to wait if he wants back in.”
He’s barely got the words out before I’m raking my nails up his chest, pulling his shirt up and over his head. I love looking at this man’s body. It’s so strong, so sexy, I just know when I’m with him I’m safe. Even more than before, I know I’m in good hands. I grind my hips against him, feeling how hard he is, loving the way he sucks in a breath and holds my hips tight.
“Shit, Chelsea,” he whispers as he kisses my neck, licking my throat, nipping down to my collarbone. “I was so sure I’d lost you forever.”
His mouth feels so good. It’s like everything he does swipes an eraser over my mind and makes me forget how words work. I’m lost in him, my head thrown back as he kisses every inch of exposed skin I have.
“I’m here now,” I whisper, clinging to his shoulders. “I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”
Because I’ve finally come to terms with all this. I’ve finally accepted that Ian is exactly what he claims to be. I can trust him. I can believe in him. And when he promises me something, I know I can count on it.
Ian groans and whips my shirt up over my head. I never even bothered putting a bra on today and his eyes go wide like he’s been starving for weeks and I just offered him a big juicy steak. His hands move up gingerly, palming my breasts, rolling my nipples under his thumbs, making my hips grind against him of their own accord. My body has a will of its own when it comes to Ian. I can’t control it; I can only enjoy it.
“Ian,” I sigh, leaning into his hands. He kisses me deep, rough, hard and insistent.
“Say it again. I love the way you say my name, like it’s a prayer.”
“Ian, please,” I moan, grinding down into him until he’s clenching his teeth and groaning.
“Please what?” He’s grinning at me, but I can see the effort it’s taking him to hold back and that just makes me wilder.
“Don’t fucking tease me,” I say, reaching between us to grip his thick erection through his jeans. “Just fuck me.”
He slips his hands under my ass and pulls me closer to him, standing up and making me squeal as I quickly wrap my legs around him for stability.
“Guess we’re past asking nicely, huh?” He bites down on my neck just hard enough to make my pussy throb and I whine, tightening my legs around him.
“You’re an ass.”
He chuckles and I feel the vibration of it all the way in my clit. He’s driving me crazy and he’s doing it on purpose and I want to be mad at him but I can’t, because I know the payoff will be so worth it.
“Yeah, but you love me.”
“I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?”
But I don’t get an answer because he’s dropping me on the bed and stripping the rest of my clothes off, leaving me bare and exposed before him. With Ian, there’s no insecurity, there’s not any desire to cover myself or squirm out of his gaze. Because the way he looks at me… It’s like I’m the most beautiful desirable thing in the world. The way he looks at me makes me feel sexy and it’s so effective at making me wetter than Niagara Falls.
And then he’s flipping me over on my stomach and pulling me up on my knees. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m putty under his fingers because I know without a doubt it’s going to be worth it.
It’s his warm breath I feel first, but I only get a second’s warning before his tongue slips between my lips, dragging my slit all the way…
I tense at the suddenness of his tongue teasing my asshole, but I don’t even really have a chance to think about it because all thoughts flee the moment it happens. It feels so damn good all I can think is, “Oh my God.”
He chuckles and I realize I’ve said that out loud but I can’t even manage to be embarrassed because he’s slipping his finger inside me and stroking me and licking me and my whole body is in overload, clenching and tensing, awash in undiluted pleasure.
I grab a pillow from the head of the bed and pull it up under my chest so I can give him better leverage.
“Oh fuck, Ian, I’m going to—”
I don’t even manage to get the words out because as soon as I start to say it, he’s slipping his tongue into my asshole and everything goes white around the edges, my whole universe shattering before my eyes. I’m still trembling and trying to come back down to earth when I hear his zipper go down. And just like that, I need more.
The bed sinks as he climbs on behind me and I feel the tip of his cock pressed at my slick entrance. I try to push my hips back, but he’s got a firm grip and controls the pace, slowly sliding in, slowly filling me inch by inch, slowly driving me up a wall because I need more and I need it now, but he’s in charge and not giving it to me.
And when he’s hilted all the way inside of me, he grinds forward and I claw at the bed sheets, gasping.
“Fuck yes, just like that,” I whisper, my voice ragged and breathy.
He pulls back slowly, my whole brain feeling like it’s leaving me with him, the only thought in my head a whiny “come back,” and then he does. He slides back in with the same maddening pace, that same slow entry that has me desperately pushing back against him even though he hasn’t loosened his grip on my hips. And then, when he’s all the way in, he grinds against me, just like that. Just the way I begged him, and my eyes roll back in my head.
“You feel incredible,” he mutters, kissing his way up my spine before pulling back.
He maintains that same pace, letting me feel every single inch of him, every single time. It’s a slow build, and every time I think I’m close, he’s pulling back again, only to push me even closer the next time. It feels so good I think he might actually manage to break my brain. I may never be able to make any sounds other than panting, begging moans again.
But then, the tension breaks and I’m tumbling into the most intense orgasm of my life. It seems to go on forever with Ian buried inside of me, just grinding in deeper, his growls filling my head, his hands roving up and down my body like he’s trying to touch all of me at once. I’m not sure when he comes because he just keeps driving me into another orgasm. Now that the first one came, the others are all following like dominoes and it feels like they might never stop.
When I’m sure I can’t possibly take any more, they do. Ian kisses the back of my neck and rolls over with me, hugging me tight against him, whispering nonsense into my hair. I only catch words like “amazing” and “beautiful” and “God” over and over again, but it’s enough for me. I’m not any better at forming cohere
nt thoughts right now.
We lay there together, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking for a long time. But eventually there’s a knock on the door and Ian laughs.
“Should probably let the poor bastard in. He did fly across the country to save my ass.”
I’m sad when he pulls away, but I know he’ll be back, so I just grin and get up with him on our quest to figure out where our clothes landed. “Remind me to thank him for that.”
Chapter 20
Ian
It’s strange after spending the afternoon with Chelsea to go our separate ways again before we head to the airport. I miss her the second she’s gone, but considering that it’s all a part of my plan, I just have to deal with it.
Everything should be in place when I get there. I just have to hope it goes the way I’m thinking it will. Of course, that all depends on us being right about Kandy, and there’s no guarantee we are. Just a hunch—a good, solid hunch, but a hunch nonetheless.
I climb the steps up to the jet alone, my bag slung over my shoulder, nerves jangling because if this doesn’t go the way I think it will, maybe Chelsea will doubt me again. Maybe she’ll think this was all an elaborate scheme to convince her to give me another shot.
I really hope that doesn’t happen. It’s nice having her on my side again. I don’t know if I can lose that again and still be the man I’m trying so hard to be. I need her. Now, and God willing, forever.
But that’s going to have to wait until all this is over with.
Merrill, Rosa, and Kandy are all already sitting in their respective places. Rosa barely even acknowledges me, Merrill gives me a head nod and a stern look, and Kandy… Well, the look Kandy gives me raises my spirits some. She’s watching me closely, her face neutrally pleasant but too observant. She’s eyeing my bag and when she sees that I’ve caught her looking at me, she gives me a big, fake smile.
“You’re looking good for a guy who’s fallen off the wagon,” she says sweetly.
I clench my jaw, wanting so badly to lay into her. She’s the reason the tour’s over early. She’s the reason the whole world thinks I’m using again. But worst, she’s the reason I nearly lost Chelsea and that’s unforgivable. She needs to pay for what she’s done to all of us. But not yet. Not until I have the proof I need.
“That might be a compliment if it were true in any way,” I grumble, heading to the back of the plane where there’s an unused bedroom piled high with all our luggage. I toss my bag on the bed and head back out just in time to see Chelsea coming aboard.
I have to hand it to her, she’s a good actress. She stops and stares at me, her mouth pressing into a thin line. If I weren’t expecting it, that look would cut me like a knife.
“Chelsea,” I say, going toward her, my arms out, the lump in my throat all too real.
“Stop,” she says, and Rosa moves to get up. It was a good idea not to let her in on this. Makes the whole thing seem more authentic.
But Chelsea turns and gives a quick head shake to Rosa. “It’s fine Rosa, I need to do this.”
“You hurt me,” she says, turning back to me, her eyes sparkling with the truth. I know it’s true. But I know I already have her forgiveness so it doesn’t sting as badly as it could. “But I’ve thought about it a lot and I forgive you.”
Rosa gasps, whispering, “Chelsea!” under her breath, but we both ignore her.
“You mean it?” I ask, stepping closer to her.
She sends me a little smile and my heart melts at the sight of it. That’s a real smile. An “am I convincing?” smile, and I grin back, sweeping her into a big kiss right there in front of everyone.
It’s meant to be for show, but I’m so damn happy to have her in my arms again, so relieved that she didn’t change her mind about this whole thing—or about me—that it goes on far longer than it needs to.
Kandy finally breaks the tension with a sharp ahem, and we pull apart, both looking over at her questioningly. She’s not even really trying to hide how she’s fuming now. Her face is red and screwed up in anger and she’s all but sputtering at us.
Chelsea gives her a big grin. “Oh, don’t worry. Of course you’ll get the first scoop of our reunion, Kandy!”
That wasn’t planned, but I’ve got to give my girl props; it has the desired effect. I almost can’t believe she goaded her like that and it’s taking everything in me not to laugh out loud.
“But what about his drug habit? Aren’t you worried he’ll overdose like your brother?”
Chelsea stiffens a little, but she’s prepared for it. There isn’t a whole lot Kandy can use against her, and she’s used the dead brother card enough times that Chelsea can see if coming from a mile away.
“Ian made one mistake—assuming that stuff was even his—but we all make mistakes. What we have is worth forgiveness. He can’t do it again,” she says, sending me a warning glance.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I swear.”
“See? He promises. What’s love without a little faith?” she says, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.
Kandy struggles for words some more, but finally settles down in time for Rosa to bustle over to us, glaring at Chelsea.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she hisses, looking at me like I’ve just rolled out of a dumpster.
“I do,” Chelsea says, grinning and clinging to me. I almost feel bad for not looping Rosa in to all of this. Almost. But she’s been against me from the very beginning so this is a little bit of payback. Yeah, it’s petty, sue me. I’m feeling on top of the world right now and I feel like I’m entitled to a little bit of pettiness.
We make our way to the big U-shaped couch for takeoff and we don’t let up on the PDA at all. I’m holding her, touching her, kissing her until she squeals in delight and dissolves into giggles. But the whole time we’re watching Kandy as she hacks away at her keyboard, darting poisonous looks in our direction.
The flight’s probably about halfway over when she gets up and heads back to the restroom. Or, at least that’s her excuse. The bedroom with all our bags is just beyond the bathroom and once she’s out of sight, Chelsea and I both get up to follow her. Rosa’s fast asleep, her face pressed against the window, but Merrill spots us and arches an eyebrow. I shake my head and wave him off. He sits back in his seat giving me an uncertain look. I know that look. He’s saying “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you seem to have it under control so don’t make me regret not getting involved.”
Yeah, when you’ve spent as much time with someone as I have with Merrill, you can read all of that in one expression.
We creep back toward the bathroom and find the door still open, so we both squeeze into the tiny space and peer around the corner. Kandy’s pulling something out of her own bag and muttering to herself as she unzips my bag and stuffs the baggie in there.
That’s all I need. And it’s all Chelsea needs too. She nods at me and I step out of the bathroom.
“Weird, this isn’t the bathroom,” I say loudly enough that Merrill can hear. Kandy freezes, my bag open in front of her on the bed.
“And I don’t think that’s Kandy’s bag, is it?” Chelsea asks innocently.
“No, sweetheart, it isn’t,” I say, stepping forward to rip the plastic bag from Kandy’s hands. Just like before, there’s a needle, a lighter, a spoon—everything a junkie needs to shoot up in the convenience of one little baggie. I’m expecting a hint of desire, just from holding the supplies, but all I feel is anger as I shove it back at Kandy.
“Looks like something of yours found its way into my bag,” I snarl.
She narrows her eyes at me and grins this malicious smile that almost makes me worried. “I was snooping,” she admits, sounding almost contrite, “but I just wanted to show Chelsea what a mistake she’s making in trusting you again. And clearly I was right. You deserve better than him, honey,” she says, sounding like she feels bad that Chelsea got duped by me. But luckily, there’s no swaying Chelsea from my si
de now. She’s not falling for it.
“I appreciate the concern, honey, but I saw you take that out of your bag. I’m not an idiot, despite what you write about me.”
Kandy loses all pretense of pleasantness then, her face contorting into an ugly mask of rage and rejection.
“Who’s going to believe you? A junkie and the girl dumb enough to go back to him, or a respected journalist?”
“So you admit it, then?” I press. She’s still convinced she’s won. Maybe we found her out, but she thinks she’s going to get away with it.
“Fine,” she sighs. “Yes, I put the stuff in your bag to get her to leave you. I didn’t think she’s be stupid enough to go crawling back again. But an anonymous tip that got you arrested? I wonder if little Miss Perfect would stay by you after all that?”
“You tried to sabotage his career and get him imprisoned just to split us up?” Chelsea asks, incredulous. I guess I never told her about the time Kandy came on to me and I rejected her. I thought it had been amicable. I thought she was still capable of being a professional about it, but clearly my judgment still isn’t the greatest.
“I did it because I wanted him to suffer,” she screeches. “No one rejects me. No one. And if you think you can get away with it, I will bury you. I’ll make it so you never work in this industry again. No one will touch you with a ten-foot pole when I’m through with you, Ian Monroe. Mark my words.”
“I think that’s quite enough of that,” Merrill says, stepping in from behind us, his phone recording the whole thing. “I’m sure the authorities would like to have a listen to your attempts to frame my client. Not to mention your admission to possession yourself, Ms. Florin.”
“Think they’d like another angle of the action?” Serge asks, crawling out from behind a pile of luggage. “Man, I thought flying private would be way cushier,” he adds, tilting his neck to either side.
Kandy’s so red she looks like she might explode, but there’s nothing for her to do now. She’s been caught red-handed. She tries to plead her case, changing her tune, saying it was just a prank or she never meant anything to actually come of it, but the damage has been done. We all heard her plans to ruin me and my career.
