by Nora Flite
Clenching my jaw, I trembled in the chair. He pumped his hand, thumb massaging my clit to his own rhythm. He fingered me better than anyone ever had—fuck, maybe better than I even did it to myself.
Low in my belly, the tension of my growing release began. It was a giant wave, ready to crush the both of us. I'd let it strip me to the bone if it came with the climax I was begging for. My pussy clenched at his fingers, my own palm barely muting my sounds. He didn't slow down, his cruelty had vanished.
Curling his fingers, pressing into the roof of my cunt, Pike made me see stars. Ecstasy exploded within my core as I finally lost control. Somehow he sank in further, stretching me through my convulsions.
The orgasm left me dazed, vibrating around his fingers while I went limp.
He didn't slide free for some time. Instead he held still, riding out my aftershocks. It was as if Pike wanted to experience every second of me. In that moment, I existed just for him.
I shivered as his hand left me, the emptiness unsettling. Looking over, I caught him wiping himself clean with a napkin. The only proof of our sordid affair was between my thighs; ruining my panties.
Counting my heartbeats, I gathered myself. He watched me do it, all mystery once more. “Good?” he asked gently.
Under the blanket, I adjusted my underwear and dress. “I—yeah. I needed that.”
“That's two rain checks.” His voice was pure liquid sex.
After that, we flew in relative silence. It wasn't uncomfortable; if anything, I was more relaxed. Much of my stress had been freed, though I suspected Pike's was on the brink of rebelling.
Rain checks, I thought with amusement. Does he really plan to collect on those? What would happen if I backed off from Pike, if I told him no more, that we had to stop?
The idea of him demanding payment had my lower belly singing again.
****
Our landing was smooth.
Outside, the sunset had already vanished. We'd landed late, past seven in the evening. The jet-lag would wreck me if I didn't get some real sleep soon. However, it was only eight in the morning back in LA.
My schedule is going to be fucked.
“Guess it begins,” Pike said, standing and cracking his back.
Gathering my bag from the overhead, I followed suit. “Sort of. We'll head to the hotel, but there won't be any jumping tonight. The crew will want to walk you through everything ahead of time. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
Pike walked down the aisle, smiling at the flight attendant as we passed. “They don't need to walk me through how to do a base jump.”
“Not really that, no,” I agreed. In the terminal, we passed the baggage claim. There were already Maximal employees gathered there, their shirts displaying the logo. They'd handle getting all the luggage to our hotel and rooms. “The commercial crew will want to show you the shot layout. You know, like where to run, which direction the cameras will be, the timing... all that stuff.”
Pike frowned, hoisting his backpack higher. Even wearing rumpled clothes and looking exhausted, he managed an aura of sexiness. “Sounds complicated.”
“It's not so bad.” Shoving through the doors and into the loud outside world, I winced; it was sticky and hot. “You'll do fine. Trust me.”
As I scanned for our car, Pike was quiet. It wasn't until I spotted the man holding the name 'Moss' on a piece of paper, waving Pike to follow me, that he spoke again. “What will I be selling?”
“Huh?”
“The commercial,” he said, following me into the shiny black car. “What's it for?”
In the cool, dark bubble of our private car, I gaped at him. “You didn't read the script?”
He managed to look guilty, though I doubted he felt that way.
“Pike!” Baffled, I cupped my forehead. “I know Corbin sent it to you! The point of having three days before this trip began was to go over the details. You have to take this seriously.”
“It'll be fine. You said I'd do fine, right?”
I shook my head, unsure what to say to that. Massaging my temples, I snatched a cold water from the provided case in the backseat. It was refreshing; it helped me think. “You're selling a juice drink. Read the script over tonight, okay?” Grumbling, I added, “Thank god you don't have any speaking lines.”
The drive to the hotel was slow in the crammed streets. Pike stirred, gazing out the window at the sights around us. Dubai was packed with people and life, even with the night time encroaching.
“Is that it?” he asked, rolling the window down for a better look. In front of us, the giant sentinel of white that was the Burj Al Arab rose up. It was gigantic, a pearl spearhead waiting for us.
Smiling, I checked my phone; two missed calls from Corbin. “Yeah, that's it. Gorgeous, like I said.”
Pike whistled. “You were spot on about that.”
“Mnhm. I need to make a few calls,” I said as we rolled up to the front of the hotel. “Head to the front desk and tell them who you are. They'll give you your room and keycard.” With that, I stepped out of the vehicle the instant it stopped moving.
Shoving the phone to my ear, I paced across the long steps, putting distance between me and anyone else. A quick glance showed that Pike was already entering the hotel. The ringing of my phone stopped abruptly. “Hey Ellie,” Corbin said. “How was the flight?”
My spine went perfectly rigid. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you'd let it go to voicemail. It's so early over there. I didn't want to wake you.”
“No harm done, I just got in from a run.”
Picturing the somewhat stocky man who was known for his heavy smoking habit going for an early jog was... strange. “Alright. I was just calling to say we landed, everything looks good so far. Tomorrow is the real test, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “Let me know all the details. Anything else that's news?”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I debated revealing that Pike hadn't studied his script. It was a pretty poor move, and one that didn't reflect the kind of money Maximal was throwing at him.
Corbin should know about that, he sent me along to keep an eye on Pike.
Or I figured that was the reason. Why else send me on this trip?
“Ellie?”
“Sorry,” I laughed. “My reception is spotty. Uh, no, nothing else worth noting. I'll phone you tomorrow, okay?”
“Alright. Get some sleep.”
“You too—I mean, have a good night—er, day. Bye.” Sputtering, I ended the call. Fuck, where was my mojo? This uncertainty wasn't me. I never fumbled with Corbin.
Sighing, I flipped my hair over my shoulder and hurried into the hotel. Whatever was going on, if I was going to handle a long day of being on set for Pike's first commercial...
I really did need to sleep.
But, as I gathered my keycard and headed to my room, I had the uneasy suspicion that my recent mistakes didn't have a thing to do with exhaustion.
Pike is changing me.
I'd have called the idea ridiculous, except the proof was too strong. Three days ago, we'd made-out in my office. Just like that day in the field, we'd come so close to sex that it was mind-boggling.
The guy was visceral, our nearness caused an awareness in me that was dedicated to him. All he had to do was look at me, and my belly was melting like butter. When he smiled? I was ready to kiss the corners of his mouth just to connect with him.
Everything was happening at breakneck speeds.
Sitting on the plane, lavishing in his expert fingers as they drove me towards climax—that memory made me clench my teeth. Pike had learned my body quickly, I didn't want to consider how he could manage that.
But I did consider it. I couldn't turn my brain off and claim I didn't care.
For someone to be as skilled as him...
No way he hadn't slept with hordes of other girls. It was just logical. Right?
Rounding the hall, I came upon my hotel room. Fiddling with the keycard, my eyes sli
d further down the rows of doors. Pike was on the same floor. I'd known ahead of time how close we'd be. It was normal for big bookings, most of this block was made up of Maximal crew.
Staring at his door, picturing him inside, I paused. Was he studying the script, or getting ready for bed? Maybe Pike was taking a shower. I needed one, myself. Especially after our secret, sexual encounter.
Two rain checks.
That had me rolling my eyes. It's all talk. He won't collect, it's a silly concept.
Still, as I pushed into the silent den of my room...
Part of me hoped he would try.
- Chapter Ten -
Pike
In the blue glow of the early morning, I woke with a groan.
Shifting on the bed, I knocked something free. The container skidded on the rug; a bottle of Jameson's whiskey.
The moment I'd gotten into my room, the first time I'd been alone in over fifteen hours, I'd headed straight for the minibar. Plastic corpses littered the floor, cruel reminders of my stupid decision.
Scowling, I held my forehead and sat up. Shit. The inside of my skull was too crowded, and the outside was wooden to the touch. I'd overdone it, but what other choice did I have?
You could have knocked on her door and finally pulled the trigger.
I didn't like how brutally honest I was when I was hungover.
Stumbling out of bed, I kicked a container of pretzels aside—had I eaten those, too?—and fell into the bathroom. Groping for the shower, I kept the light off. Soon enough, the room billowed with steam, hot water raining into the tub.
Joining the flow, I hissed as the scalding liquid assaulted me. It was the only cure for a hangover that I knew of, so I sucked it up. My own fault. Gotta pay for my mistakes.
Hanging my head low, I leaned my palms on the tiles. The darkness was good. The heat was better. Alone but for the pattering of water, the fog slowly left my mind. What the fuck is wrong with me?
It was a good question, but I didn't like the answer.
You're hung up on Ellie Cutter.
Shit. This wasn't like me. When was the last time I'd crushed on anyone? Never, that was the truth of it. I'd never given a rat's ass about other women, not until now.
Not until her.
We still hadn't fucked, though I was planning to change that. I'd come very, very close a few times. In fact, last night, I'd battled with my desire to go kick her door down—until the minibar had stopped me.
My memories surged back, twisting my lips. I'd paced my room for over an hour, just chugging alcohol as I moved. When I'd checked in, I'd asked at the front desk where Ellie would be staying, and they'd told me she was only a few doors down.
That knowledge had been a curse.
By the second hour—and my third bottle—I'd given in to lying on my bed. One hand, the hand that had buried itself in Ellie's glorious cunt, worked at angrily jerking myself off. I'd been horny and frustrated and just plain fucking pissed off.
I was supposed to be focusing on what I was finally about to do; leaping off a building with thousands of people around, the sunshine on my face, and no threat of arrest. I was even getting paid for it!
That was where my mind and heart should have been.
Instead, Ellie possessed my soul.
Growling, I slammed my fist against the shower tiles. The echo wasn't kind to my headache, but I didn't care. I was out of control—I was so used to having control. What was it about Ellie that pulled me down from the clouds?
Her tits, I thought crudely. Her perfect ass. Those thick hips and those luscious, pouting lips. I wanted to turn her into an object. If I did that, I could start to distance myself; understand my lust better.
But as I stood there, water rolling down my chin and chest, I realized... I realized it couldn't be so simple.
Ellie was more than just sweet flesh.
Her courage. The way she chose to leap out of a plane with me. That she did it, and apparently kept it to herself.
Kept it just for us.
She was something else, this woman, and I couldn't deny it. That fire inside of her reminded me of my own. The hard determination in her beautiful eyes called to me. The only other thing I'd spent so much time dwelling on in my life like this had been...
The fall.
That realization made me stand straight. I ignored the water that blurred my vision.
She's as addicting as the freedom and excitement of the sky.
If that was true—and my rapidly pumping heart said it was—I was in big fucking trouble. I'd never been able to quit my jumps, not even after losing my father. If anything, I'd taken to the sky more.
Ellie's pull was as raw and powerful as gravity.
No mortal man could resist that truth. Not an angel, certainly not a devil.
So what chance did I have?
****
It took two hours of chugging water and lying on the floor, but by eight in the morning, I felt human again. That was good, because the knock on my door would have split my skull, otherwise.
Grunting, I pulled myself to my feet. In only a robe—I'd found it in the bathroom—I took slow strides to the door. Twisting the knob, I looked out on the most beautifully exhausting sight.
“Morning,” Ellie said, smiling brightly. She was wearing a fitted spaghetti strap top, orange as a new sunrise. Her jeans were slightly faded and torn, but I adored that relaxed look. It helped, of course, that her pants clung to her shapely thighs.
Leaning on the doorway, I returned her smile. “I don't recall ordering a wake-up call.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ha ha. I thought I'd check in on you, see if you wanted to come down for breakfast.” Ellie leaned around me, peering into my room. “We're going up to the roof to begin in an hour, so...”
I moved to block her vision, increasing my grin forcefully. “Sounds good, let me get changed quick.” I half-closed the door before I gave her a knowing wink. “Unless, like before, you want to watch me undress?”
Her embarrassment was as good as a cup of coffee. “No! Uh, go ahead. Just be fast.”
As soon as I was inside, I shoved the evidence of my alcoholic descent into the trash. My hope was that the house keeping staff would take care of everything before Ellie would have a chance to see it.
I don't know why, I just... I didn't want her to know what I'd done. Fuck, was this what shame felt like?
Yanking on a pair of cargo pants and a loose black shirt, I shoved on my sneakers. I was a whirl of movement, fingers fluffing my hair as I opened the door again. Ellie blinked, sticking her phone in her pocket. “Wow, that was fast.”
“I'm fueled by hunger,” I said, winking. Honestly, the thought of food had my stomach twisting. Maybe something easy, like a bagel, would hide the remnants of my hangover.
Side by side, we walked down the hall. In the elevator, Ellie continued to chatter about the day's plans. I tried to focus on her voice, but frankly, I couldn't quit imagining her lips puckering around something else.
Fuck, it's too early for this. She was watching me expectantly. Whatever she'd asked, I'd missed it. I gave her a tense smile. “What was that?”
“The script. Did you go over it?”
My heart slipped down my ribs, lower and lower. “Oh, shit.”
“Pike!” Gripping her hips, she left the elevator, walking fast. “Come on, what did you do when you got settled, go right to sleep?”
Closing my eyes, recalling how I'd pictured her face—how she'd shuddered when she'd cum in her seat miles up in the air—while I'd jerked myself off, I chuckled. “Yes. I went to bed. I was... very tired.”
Ellie pushed through a pair of glass doors. Inside, the heavy scent of bread and oranges hit me. “We don't have much time. Grab something and sit with me, I just happen to have brought a copy of the script.”
Nodding, I scooped up a glass of pineapple juice and a plain bagel. “Lead on, Warden.”
“Stop that,” she said, pointing a muffin at me
. “This is serious.”
“I'm taking you seriously.” The room was almost empty, we had our choice of seats. Sitting down in the corner table, I folded my arms behind my head and watched Ellie. “This is me being serious. Are you not convinced?”
Pulling a sheet of paper from her purse, she slapped it onto the table. “I'd be convinced if you'd taken some time to read this last night. Or at all. I can't believe you went right to sleep.”
It was a struggle to keep my face smooth. Ellie couldn't know what I'd been dealing with. This ache I had for her was leaving me in tatters; I'd have to get myself back on track before she suspected I was losing my composure.
Either that, or soon I'd be throwing caution to the wind; bending her over the nearest object, burying my throbbing cock between her legs. I needed relief, and I needed it desperately.
Fidgeting, I chugged my juice. “Eat your muffin, I'll read this right now.”
Settling in, Ellie peeled the paper off the side of her pastry. In small bits, she ate it while watching me closely. Only a few minutes passed before she spoke. “Any questions yet?”
Lifting my eyebrows, I peered up at her. “You're on edge today.”
She dropped part of her muffin. “What? No, I mean, not really.”
Tapping the script, I slid it back to her. “I'll do fine, don't worry about me. This is really simple. I'm just running up some stairs, bursting through the roof door, then grabbing a can from some guy before I jump.”
“Bottle.”
“What?”
“It's a bottle,” she said, smiling. “Not a can.”
Snorting, I chewed at my bagel. My appetite was coming back. “It doesn't matter.”
“The details do matter!” Ellie leaned towards me. I could almost see down her shirt; it was a challenge not to stare. “Pike, this whole thing is about the details. Okay?”
I sensed she wasn't talking about my script. Not quite. That night on the World's Antenna, I'd made it clear that the details—the precautions I took—were the only thing that could help guarantee my survival.
