Arms relaxed on the rests and an easy smile on his lips, the man was confident and completely at ease. “The copilot is competent and can handle things until our approach. So, you have me for just about as long as you want me.”
“Good,” Lexie said with feigned ease. In truth, she’d never seduced a stranger before and hadn’t the slightest idea how to go about it, but come hell or crash landing she intended to do it, and do it well. “How long until we land?” she asked, flashing him the signature red sole of her Louboutins with each measured bob of her dangling foot.
The leather squeaked as he shifted imperceptibly. “Three hours.”
Lexie put her lips to the rim of the cool glass and arched her neck as she poured the liquor into her mouth. She swallowed, and then licked the rim with a slow swipe of her tongue. Unfurling her legs, Lexie leaned forward and placed the glass in the holder of the console between them. She remained perched on the edge of the seat, legs mimicking an extended V from knees to the peep-toes of her pumps.
Cocking her head to the side, Lexie asked, “So, where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
His bare-bones answer sent her heart into V-tach. The tripling heart rhythm and will to live past this racy encounter had her hoping there was a defibrillator aboard. For cryin’ out loud. The man was way too hot, way too easy, and way too young. He might begin thinking about forty in five to ten years.
But what the hell? She had four days and had been ordered to make them count. “I’ll agree,” she replied, “if it meets the criteria.”
He smiled that naughty half smile and brushed stray wisps of sandy blond hair from his forehead. “I grew up in the Florida Keys. Trust me, they’re beautiful and fun. If you’re not running from the law, they’re the perfect place for you to cut loose.”
“I’ve never been to the Keys. The only thing I’ve seen in the last”—not wanting to mark her age, she hesitated—“several years, is the inside of a hospital. I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. I’ll call my assistant when we land to get reserva—”
“No,” he said, cutting her off.
“No, what?” she asked slowly.
“No, you’re not calling anyone. I read your flight itinerary and overheard quite a bit of your conversation. You have four days to get away, to get lost. So, be lost.”
Lexie considered his words for a minute, then another. Resolved, she snatched her blank phone from the console and held it out to the pilot. “Fine, take it.” When his hand rose to confiscate the device, hers inched back. Quickly, she added, “I want it back when we land in New York.”
He nodded in agreement and held out his hand. Lexie glided her fingers over his open palm before relinquishing her link to the outside world, and with it a bit of power. The power she gained from the slight arch of his brow and increased respiration was worth the price. The phone disappeared into his coat pocket a moment later.
All nonchalance vanished from the sexy pilot’s features as he sat forward and rested large forearms on his knees. With her sitting straight and him crouched, their gazes met perfectly. His brow furrowed. “Want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” she asked, her throat closing tight.
“Your surgery.”
Lexie shook her head, trying not to let the images in. Tears didn’t make for sexy seductions.
His thumbs grazed her knuckles. “I’ve seen death.”
When her eyes went wide in question, his jaw tightened.
“Afghanistan.”
“Oh,” she replied with a bit of surprise, studying him.
He smiled, the effort a little forced. “It never gets any easier to see, but there are things you can do to take the edge off.”
“Like?”
His gaze locked with hers, narrowing. “Get lost in a beautiful place with a beautiful stranger.”
Lexie nodded. “Sounds like you have some experience in the trauma recovery field.” His shrug drew her attention to his broad shoulders.
“Not much,” he said, his voice deepening, as he leaned a little closer, “but I could be your guide.”
He filled her sight. His masculine scent, crisp and spicy, drifted across the inches separating them. “I’d like that,” Lexie purred. “Show me where to stay, eat, drink, dance.”
Moist breath caressed her face, when he said, “You’ll stay with me. I keep a house on Little Torch Key. It has more than one bedroom, should you desire your own. And I’ll show you whatever you want to see.”
This was easy. Not many things in her life were. She’d scraped and fought, working harder than most to see her dreams realized. Didn’t she deserve a little easy? “I want to see you.”
Lexie’s words held no apology, guile or haste. Like all her words, they were measured with thought and honesty.
A thickly veined hand traveled to the knot of his tie and pulled. Two precious inches of fabric chafed through the tangle. The soft sound sent a rush of warmth from Lexie’s heart to the tips of her extremities. Heat slid across the hood of her clitoris like Luke Duke gliding over the glossy top of the General Lee. His clear eyes searched her eyes, lips, neck. He must have found only desire in her reaction because he progressed to the translucent white button at his throat. The same hand that had soothed her agitated state only an hour before, slowly drove her wild.
Saliva pooled in her mouth as he unfastened the third button. Golden-brown skin peeked out in stark contrast to the fabric. The fourth fastener surrendered its loop, revealing the plateau of a well-defined chest and a hint of the carved abdomen below. When he unveiled a happy trail, Lexie’s patience cracked. Her itchy fingers moved of their own volition from the edge of the chair she’d been clutching.
Before her hand made contact, Dana, the perky twenty-something flight attendant, opened the cabin door. With a voice as smooth as honey, she asked, “Dr. Rivers. Captain Warren. Can I get either of you anything?”
On any other day, caught in a similar situation, not that any had ever occurred, Lexie would have wilted like a moonflower in direct sunlight. Today, she stopped the woman’s advance into the cabin with a wave of her hand. She appreciated the fact that although the attendant could see the I’m about to spontaneously orgasm expression on Lexie’s face, the back of his chair blocked her view of the good captain’s state of undress.
With a brief glance and forced smile, Lexie said, “Thank you, Dana. I believe we have everything we require.”
Captain Warren’s smoldering expression caught Lexie’s gaze, as he added, “Should Rob need assistance, have him call back.”
Dana cheeks flushed. She bit out a, “Yes Sir,” and stalked from the cabin.
Before the door closed, Lexie yanked the shirttail from Captain Warren’s pants and ripped his shirt the rest of the way open. The few remaining buttons sailed through the air, pinging about. Eagerly, she knelt between his open thighs. Her palm slid over his neck and across his stony pecs, eliciting a rumble inside his chest. It vibrated under her fingertips, until she moved them down over each corded bump of abdominal muscle. The pilot’s hands molded her lush contours from the top of her rump, up the dip of her waist, along her spine to her neck where they dove into her long ebony hair.
Before this progressed any farther, Lexie had to know, “Are you screwing the flight attendant?”
His nose wrinkled as though he’d smelled something rotten. “No.”
“You owe me no explanations. She’s a beautiful girl. No one would blame you for it. I just don’t want to be kicked off the flight midair.”
The captain gave her hair a tug, jerking up her chin. Soft lips kissed and unyielding teeth nibbled a trail up her neck to her lobe. “She’s infatuated. I’m not. Too willowy. Too dramatic. Too young.”
He worked along her jaw until he reached her cheek. Tilting her head, he took her mouth.
Allure gave way to carnal hunger and she received a kiss more powerful than she’d ever experienced. He ate at her lips like a man starved. His mouth warmed hers
as he sucked and pulled, opening her to accept his inward thrust. The torrid way his tongue massaged hers made her clitoris pulse with want.
Near suffocation, they broke apart.
Between labored pants, he said, “I have a thing for women with red-soled shoes, red classic cars, curves and Fuck-Me-red lips.”
“It’s Russian Red…the lipstick color,” she gasped, rubbing her cheek against his then drawing back. “But my lower lips are Fuck-Me red.”
With that, she pushed him back into his chair and pulled on his belt to bring his hips closer to the edge of his seat. Small but deceptively strong, she positioned his crotch below her breasts. Just where she wanted him. Crudely, Lexie unfastened his belt and slacks and freed his thick cock from black boxer briefs. Without preamble, she stroked his length and guided the orbed tip into her mouth. When it met with the back of her throat, the captain hissed through clenched teeth. She firmed her lips around him and swallowed several times before sucking it like a lolly until she let him pop out of her mouth. Halfway down his shaft a uniform ring of color encircled his girth.
“See?” she said, lifting a brow. “Russian Red.”
His eyelids dipped. “I need to see that Fuck-Me red…for color comparison.”
Lexie smiled. “I’m not done here.” She plunged him back into her hot mouth. One fist pumped the base, warming the length her mouth couldn’t accommodate. Saliva pooled around him as Lexie worked his delicious shaft. When she picked up the tempo, the leather beneath his straining grip creaked. His hips rolled with her. The muscles of his chest and abdomen rippled, and a fine sheen of sweat slicked his skin. She strummed her tongue over his slick tip and came away with the salty taste of precum.
Before she could make him explode, Captain Warren plucked her off the floor. She dangled, wrapped in his arms. He braced his forehead on hers. From his vantage point Lexie could see the intricate design of light and dark blue fissures in his eyes.
“You have no idea how much I hate to rush this, but Rob just switched off autopilot, which means we’re going to hit the storm I was hoping like hell to avoid. I’ll make it up to you later, if you’ll let me.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“Been flying since I could walk. Amazingly, I felt the plane shift, even with your hot mouth on me.”
Lexie couldn’t hold back a whine of disappointment. She’d never begged a man for anything and should have turned red from embarrassment at the unchecked display. But need made her weak. If he’d just let her go, she’d be back on her knees in a flash. She’d plead. Grovel. Whatever it took to have him.
The notion perplexed Lexie’s higher intelligence. Having only met the man—wait, they hadn’t even been introduced. All she knew was his last name and the fact that she wanted him. Driven by some deeper instinct, Lexie was drawn to him as she had never been yo anything other than medicine. His crooked smile and easygoing personality appealed to this newly exposed side of her, so eager to let go. Those piercing eyes and his exquisite body ignited her sexuality. The intensity of his passion claimed her. So, foolish or not, she would beg. “Please,” she whispered.
“Baby, I’m not done here.”
He whirled her around to face her chair. His hands ran up her arms, and he placed her hands on the seat’s back. He pushed her knees with his own into the seat of the chair. Hot kisses showered her neck while his hands slid under her shirt. He hefted her breasts, caressing them and molding them with his touch. Her skin scorched in their wake. With a flick, the front clasp of her bra gave way. When he pinched her nipples the sensation had her arching. His lips were hot on her cheek. His dick nestled into the groove of her ass and elicited a moan from them both. Lexie rocked her hips, rubbing his cock against her covered sex. With each roll, the V of her thong pulled more tightly, chafing her clit.
While teasing her nipples with one hand, the captain’s other rushed to the hem of the pencil skirt. He tugged at the material, but only gained an inch. Moving his hand to the back side, he pulled again, gaining no skin. With one last flick of her nipple, his hand retreated. Lexie heard the shriek of ripping fabric before she felt the coolness of the cabin’s air on her butt.
Lace from her panties strummed over her clitoris and bit into her cheek as Captain Warren jerked them to the side. Lexie repositioned her knees, widening them on the seat to keep her balance. She muffled a scream into the leather as his tongue swiped a sumptuous line starting on her swollen clit and ending with a bite on her lower back. “I’ve had red popsicles, but that red’s the best I’ve ever tasted,” he growled near her ear. “Save me some for later.”
Lexie whimpered in response.
When his hands gripped her bare hips and the smoothness of his erection slid between her cheeks, fresh moisture coated her lower lips. Her vagina pulsed with need. He glided the head of his penis teasingly over her lips.
“Condom,” Lexie panted.
“Shit! Condom. Right. You’re making me forget myself, Doctor.”
He fumbled around for a second before she heard the rip of foil. His hot cock left her for the barest of moments before it returned to massage her clit. Slowly, he entered, filling her and giving what she craved. Sweet sexual oblivion took hold as they joined. The job, hell, the whole world, fell away as he wrapped an arm around her middle, anchoring her to him, covered one of her hands with his own and rhythmically drove into her.
Each thrust snuggled his core to her bottom and pierced her womb. Each withdrawal massaged her tight walls, setting her neurons off like firecrackers on Independence Day. He nudged her face up from the pillowy seat. “No one’s going to hear but me, and I want to hear everything you have to say about this.”
“They’re not intelligible words,” she panted.
“That works too.”
He peeled off her top, and Lexie sighed. His arm and hot body continued to brace her while his other hand smoothed over her abdomen and down her thigh. Openmouthed kisses sprinkled her bare shoulder.
Not even face-to-face had Lexie ever made more engaging love. So drawn to this man was she, her hands abandoned the chair: one gripped his hair, the other bit into the skin of his waist as she urged him closer. Their tempo rose, along with their voices, which filled the cabin with pants and moans.
On another pass, his hand plunged from her belly to her center. His fingers spread her slippery lips wide and stroked her rigid knot. “So good. So good.” Lexie chanted the words.
“Too damn good,” he answered.
His husky voice in her ear, massaging cock deep inside and stroking finger coalesced into a fierce orgasm. With a scream, Lexie came hard. Every muscle in her body constricted with sheer pleasure. Her channel convulsed, milking his release. He barked an expletive as he erupted. The warmth primed Lexie for a second climax, until the plane rattled, then dropped five feet.
They careened backward, two half-naked bodies still joined in the throes of passion and turbulence. Captain Warren caught the edge of his seat and hoisted them into it before they hit the floor.
“Shit,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Better than okay.”
Lexie disengaged herself and slid into her seat. Staring across from her, she saw that the man was a rumpled mess and all the more delicious for it. Clothes hung from every limb. The white shirt she’d been so eager to remove lacked several buttons and boasted a rather large rip. Hair stuck to his forehead, wet from sweat.
She licked her swollen lips. “I suppose you need to go.”
He ruffled the hair on his forehead and let out a huff of air. “Hate to, but yeah.”
He captured her hand, pulled it to his mouth and straightened her fingers. His face buried in her palm, he placed a hot wet kiss in the center. “I have to get you safely on the ground.”
As Lexie watched the beautiful pilot dress, she erupted into a fit of giggles.
He cocked his brows and cinched the knot on his tie. “What? Is my fly down?”
“No, you look perfect. I
t’s just that now I’m a member of the Mile High Club.”
“Yeah? Me too.”
“For the hundredth time,” she said with snort.
“Believe it or not, until today, I took my job seriously.”
“Yeah, so did I,” she said with a high brow, the unasked What’s your point? written above it.
He leaned down and kissed Lexie’s cheek. “You took my Mile High virginity, Dr. Rivers.”
Smiling, Lexie shook her head. “What’s your first name, Captain Warren?”
After kissing her other cheek, he said, “Beck.”
She pulled him back for a kiss, then asked, “So, Beck, is your beach virginity intact?”
As Pretty Does
Tenille Brown
Doll had stopped sending Ben to pick up shop orders a long time ago. For one thing, he kept fucking them up. For another, he’d almost always spill half the order before he returned because he was a shitty driver. But what sealed the deal was when Doll went down to the warehouse herself one day and laid eyes on Lenny.
Now, Lenny was necessary to her picking up orders because while Doll was a damned good driver, she wasn’t much for lifting things. Not the way she kept her hair tightly coifed and her full, chocolate face made up—just enough, nothing sleazy. And she liked her skirts, because hell, she had a good set of legs. The bottom line was, Doll wasn’t in this business for the dirty work. Yes, she happened to own the floral shop for which she was picking up orders. And her Type A personality told her that when you wanted something done right, you had to do it your damned self.
As a bonus for her trouble, there was Lenny. Sexy Lenny. Good old lifting-flower-trays-and-two-by-fours—sometimes with his shirt off—Lenny.
Doll liked to keep her sunglasses on while she waited so he wouldn’t know she stared. And Doll always stared, which was out of the norm for her. She was the one who usually got the hot glares and catcalls. But just these times she made an exception for Lenny because, hell, he was pretty. Not handsome, not good-looking, but downright, flawlessly pretty.
Sex Objects Page 3
