by Ace Gray
Go fuck yourself, Bryant.
Deciding I was somewhere between nine and nine a half, I pursed my lips and walked straight to the flight attendant making drinks in the back. She’d just finished pouring a scotch and looked up, beaming, only for her face to fall when she realized Nick wasn’t the one hovering behind her. I snatch the scotch from her hands all the same.
“Thank you.”
I smiled so wide it had to come off phony. Jaime cleared his throat behind me, and I whirled around, throwing a scowl in his direction. He waved his hands in surrender.
"Is there a phone that I can use during take-off?" I asked sharply, and Jaime pointed to a closed door. I shoved past both him and the flight attendant into the small room.
The office was obviously Bryant's. It was a small replica of his office at The Venture Group, dark leathers, light whites, and a chic cigar club feel. I sunk into the chair and picked up the phone. I punched in Callista's number and propped my feet against the edge of the desk. Bryant’s frigid barks rang through the cabin in between dial tones, but when Callista answered I started right back in where we left off, paying him absolutely no mind.
I stayed on the phone for at least 45 minutes. When I hung up I didn’t mean to slam the phone down, but my temper was barely contained. Neither scotch nor Callista had done anything to improve my mood.
For a second I thought about going out to find Nick, his skin would soothe me, but then I pushed my hair behind my ear and brushed the scrapes from where he’d shoved my headphones.
“Ahhhh!” I snarled, and it resonated in my chest.
I fired up my laptop and aimlessly reviewed everything for the spring line. It didn't really need doing but I’d be damned if I was going anywhere near Nicholas Bryant.
7.
The soft hum and chatter of the plane was the only thing interrupting what should have been soothing silence; it had me gritting my teeth. Vesper business was making my temples throb. I plugged in my headphones, hoping a mellow playlist would do what ambient noise couldn’t. Instead, fury flared every time Alt-J, Glass Animals, or even Chet Faker came on because I could vividly imagine sex with him to those songs.
When the next one played, I mashed the skip button on my laptop hard enough that it crunched beneath my finger.
“Do tell, did the laptop do something completely reasonable, like ask you to be on time?"
I jumped in my seat, the chair clattering against the wall behind me when he spoke. Being caught off guard was the only reason I looked up into the swirling pools he called eyes. For a moment I got lost, barely able to swallow from their intensity fixed on me.
“Well?”
He questioned with the most patronizing voice I could imagine. To prove a point, I pinched my face and assaulted another button on the keyboard.
Bryant’s eyes narrowed as he stalked over and grabbed my fingers with one hand. He held them just above my keyboard, and I tried to yank them free. I was still pulling when one long finger from his other hand came up and hooked into my earbuds to jerk them from my ears. They clattered against the computer.
He adjusted his hold to my wrists and pulled me; I landed less than an inch from his face. Tumultuous eyes met mine as his fingers tightened around my bones. The more fierce his grip the more brilliant his eyes became.
I wrestled with him and, when I couldn’t budge, I swore his eyes sparked. He used his hold to angle me against the bookcase then used his whole body to pin me down. He held me for just a moment, studying me. His breathing went ragged, and his heartbeat pounded against mine, but then he dropped his hands.
Instinctively I rubbed my wrists, noticing the slight redness. Those marks made my knees knock together.
God damn I miss the marks.
I bit my lip as he slid his arm around the small of my back to escort me out of the office and rather than plant myself, I reluctantly obeyed. As soon as we stepped out of the office, the flight attendant was on him; she reached to smooth his t-shirt. Heat raced through my veins all over again.
"We will be in the back and are not to be disturbed." Nick barely glanced at her as he pointed toward another door. She humpfed and I wheeled on her, feeling the clench of my jaw every bit as tightly as the squeeze of my fists where they'd balled. Her eyes went wide as I took a step. Nick's hands wrapped around my shoulders and he wordlessly turned me back toward the room. When I fought him, he actually growled at me.
"Now," he said sharply, and I finally obeyed, my temper still seething at the surface.
The back room Nick had referenced was a barely lit bedroom. I wasn’t sure whether the venue was good or bad considering our moods. I plopped on the bed, crossed my arms and legs, and waited for him to follow me in. When he finally did, he had a bottle of Glenfiddich and all but slammed the door before locking it behind him.
"I don't like it when you pick fights with me.” He set the bottle down on the bedside table.
"I don't like it when you treat me like a child,” I retorted.
"I didn't treat you like a child, but you certainly insisted on acting like one." He loomed over me, his arms crossed like mine.
"What was I supposed to do? Take your rudeness in stride and simply apologize?"
"An apology would’ve been very nice.”
“Okay, I'm sorry." My tone was anything but remorseful.
"I don't believe you." He stepped toward me and lifted my chin, staring deep into my eyes.
I jerked my chin away, still being petulant. Nick’s low rumble filled the room as he bent down to lift my shirt anyway. I swatted at his hand. Sex was an easy out. And if it was just him eating me out, I had no desire anyway.
Nick reached again and I swatted again.
But this time he anticipated it and captured my wrist. His grip stung a little on the raw skin he’d left moments ago. I yanked and his grip got tighter. I balled my fist and reached with the other hand fully intending on ripping it out of his grasp, but he captured that one too. Bryant shifted his weight and pushed me back along the bed, forcing my arms to stretch out overhead. I bucked and struggled underneath him as an undeniably gritty, sexy rumble resonated in his chest.
Nick straddled me, pinning me firmly to the bed. He shifted toward the pillows and reached under one of them. When he pulled out handcuffs and deftly pushed them onto my wrists, I shrieked in protest.
"Why the fuck do you have these on the plane? Do you make it a habit of…" My outburst was quickly interrupted.
“You will stop yelling right now, Kate."
He moved off me and, in one swift motion, pulled me partially off the bed and twisted me so my chest was flat on the mattress. My cuffed hands had landed balled under my chest, and my knees sank to rest on the carpet. This position served my ass up on a platter for him.
Like hell he’s going to spank me!
I tried to stand up but as soon as I got one foot under me he pushed me back to the bed. He shoved his forearm against my back while his other hand tugged at my high heels.
"Bryant!" I screamed at the top of my lungs while he held me down. It was more in frustration than anything else.
"They will all hear you if you keep this shit up,” he hissed inches from my ear.
"I don't care." I was seething.
"You don't care that you're subjecting Jaime to this? I know you're spiteful enough today to enjoy the thought of our flirtatious flight attendant hearing, but him?"
He’d said it to shut me up, knowing full well how terrible I felt that Jaime always caught us in compromising positions.
“Answer me.” Smugness was thick in his voice as he shifted his knee to press against my calves while his arm kept me firmly in place. He started to work my leggings down, leaving my naked skin exposed.
"This is embarrassing,” I mumbled, still struggling beneath him.
"I was rather embarrassed this afternoon."
At that, I lost it. I shot up forcefully enough to surprise him. For just a second he was off me. But then he lunged
to hug me, grasping again for my wrists. He unclasped one cuff and pulled me toward the bedpost hoping to restrain me but my free hand flew to his hair and wrenched his head backwards. His answering groan was more pleasure-laden than anything else.
My heart hammered, my chest vibrated—I was alive, and the singe of our electricity crossed my skin. Judging by the sound that Nick had let out, he felt the same way.
He pushed his body harder against mine as he tried to capture my free arm. The plane hit slight turbulence and it was enough to knock me off balance. I fell backward against the bed and shot my hand back to brace myself. He took the opportunity to gain control again.
This time he twisted me away from the bed and pushed my face down to the carpeting. He shoved my knees forward and used the cuffs to pull my wrists together behind me and into the crease of my knees. I was left with the option of either putting weight onto my forehead against the plush carpet or sitting back onto my heels and pressing the biting metal of the cuffs into my thighs and wrists.
Since I couldn’t do much more than shuffle, Nick picked up the little ball that was my body and set it on the bed. When he pulled off his shirt and climbed up behind me, I yanked up my shoulders and endured the sting of the metal against my thighs. I writhed, hoping I could somehow maneuver to knee him. One hand came to my hip and held me in place. I screeched.
"Your temper has been exceedingly short of late. Particularly when it comes to me. And all I’ve tried to do is apologize.”
Nick’s full, open hand came to my ass and my breath caught. I twitched and contorted; I did not want to be spanked. Not like this. Electricity or no, feeling alive or no, that seemed demeaning after this particular tussle. His hand fell away, and I almost yelled no! but he redirected and simply found new skin to skate across.
“Kate, I’m trying.”
"I know." I was quieter, most of the acid leaving my voice as he touched me.
Nick's voice was unreadable when he spoke again. “What did I do? What did I fuck up now?”
His hand unexpectedly slipped between my legs only to skate through dripping arousal. Our wrestling had been the epitome of us, downright fiery and laced with lust. Of course I was turned on.
"Na, nah, no…" I stammered as he pushed his finger inside me.
"Are you sure?" He purred as he added in a second finger.
"I just don't feel like myself,” I managed.
“I can help you find yourself."
His fingers stroked leisurely in and out. He bent and kissed the small of my back. I’d expected a spanking, and I wasn’t sure if this gentle teasing was a good or bad surprise. He kissed me again, pressing his lips to my skin reverentially.
“Oh, Nick.”
Anger melted from my body when he lingered on my skin like that. He bent down so his tongue could replace his fingers inside of me. His hands were at my hips, pulling apart my cheeks and digging deeper into my skin. Like always, he dug in hard when he was enjoying himself.
His tongue flicked and twisted at the sensitive spots between my thighs. When the plane shook with his tongue inside me, I couldn't help but moan. Loudly. He darted in and out while I trembled.
Based on the last few weeks, I thought I could predict what was coming next. He’d twirl around the tiny hub of nerves in my clitoris whether with fingers or mouth. I would have pushed him away if I had control. I was so tired of this. He flicked my clit with his finger at the same time I begged, “Baby don’t…”
But then Nick didn’t sneak his lips lower, he drug his tongue higher.
He’s not going to…
But he did. Nick’s tongue rimmed around my other opening and I jerked. Well, as much as I could anyway. His hands flexed harder into my hips and he pulled me back onto his tongue. I couldn’t stifle my cry. Jaime and whoever the hell else be damned.
His slow, steady tongue thrusts into my ass had me clenching, jerking, and moaning into the comforter beneath my forehead. When he pushed two fingers roughly into my sex and danced up against his tongue, the all too familiar feel of pre-orgasmic tension wracked my body. I was about to come spectacularly.
Nick read my mind, or body, or whatever he did, and swiftly moved to undo the cuffs. I wanted to slowly stretch my limbs but, before I could move my aching shoulders, he twisted me to face him and yanked my shirt up over my head. He had my bra off only seconds after. I noticed his pants were already gone when he cuffed my hands in front of me. Nick’s head shoved between my elbows, bringing my wrists to rest flat against his neck as he pinned me beneath his heavy body. Before I had time to react he was pushing up into me.
I would have cried out if he hadn't locked his lips on mine. He kept them sealed as he hammered into me, over and over, right up until he turned us. I stayed flat to him as he started guiding my pace.
Nick put a hand on my chest and pushed my body up as far as the cuffs would allow. The way he arched my back was intense, and I couldn’t help but whimper. When I quaked above him, he sat up, taking me along for the ride. He was still thrusting into me as we wound closer together. Sitting like that, entangled like that, with his hips moving like that, was building a deliciously sexy sheen between us.
The friction was borderline unbearable. Every single inch of me tingled, trembled, or both. I bit my lip, desperate to prolong this feeling. When Nick pushed my hips high enough to slip out of me, I cried out.
"I just want to turn you around, Sweets.” His lips grazed my skin as he spoke.
Hearing he wasn't done with me was enough. I did as I was told, pulled my arms free, and shuffled to put my back to his front. He wrapped his arm around me and slipped his hand between my legs, lifting my hips. His cock rested perfectly in the crease of my ass.
Nick kept his fingers playing with my clit as he inched into the space his tongue had scandalized minutes before. He was gentle, and I relaxed allowing him to push in.
"Oh God, your ass is always so tight. So perfect and so tight. I was going to spank you but I wanted this so much more. I wanted you to give me this.”
He sucked in deeply as he pushed me the rest of the way down onto his shaft. My head rolled back onto his shoulder and I twisted back into his neck, biting down in lieu of screaming when I took him all.
His fingers slipped inside my slit and stroked against his shaft through my thin skin in between. He started alternating the thrusts of his fingers with those of his cock, the rhythm almost hypnotic. I thought I’d lose it completely when his free hand flew to my nipple and pulled. Hard. But it was enough of a change to stave off the building explosion. And thank God, because each time the plane shook he settled deeper into me and my blood boiled a bit more.
In one blissfully perfect moment, it all came together; thrust, yank, turbulence, and tremors. I shattered. And when the ripples of my orgasm rolled through my body, Nick wrapped his hand softly around my throat. His fingers curled up over my chin and crossed my lips before flexing into my mouth. I bit down to keep from screaming out and was rewarded with a strangled grunt of his own.
His muscles bunched, and his telltale quiver timed with the clenching I couldn't control. He came while I trembled against his perfect chest. My gasps were stifled by his fingers. He bit into my shoulder and grunted, quiet and pained, against my skin while he emptied into me.
Nick was still firmly notched inside me when we collapsed together onto the sheets. He nuzzled into my hair as his heart raced against my back. We panted as the plane chattered again.
"Oh God Kate, I love you. So much." He tangled his legs with mine and breathed warm against my neck. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. Just tell me what I have to do."
I was breathing hard, clutching the sheets under me even though my hands were still bound. “Well, you could un-cuff me.”
He shifted for just a moment, then returned and cocooned me even tighter as he unlocked the cuffs.
“Now, without the smartass remarks. Tell me what I have to do.”
I thought over the doubt that h
ad been weaving through my mind these past two weeks. Giving voice to them was a wholly terrifying thing. But staying stagnant with Nick, not being able to read our future, was the only thing worse.
“Where do we go from here?” I breathed the words, barely shaping them. “The past two weeks have been so straightforward. No games, no bullshit, no fights, and they felt utterly wrong.” I bit my lip, not sure how he’d take it.
Absolutely terrified, actually.
“Me being patient and understanding felt wrong to you?” His voice was even, contemplative maybe.
“Not wrong so much as normal. A normal man coming home to a normal women, having fine sex, and I know that’s not going to fly long term. Normal feels like a cage. A cage we’ll both tire of. You’ll get tired of me.” My pulse rose just like my voice.
"Tired of you?"
He pulled out and I gasped at the shock to my system. He grasped my shoulder and pulled me, flattening me so we could be nose to nose.
"Never," he breathed. “I was just trying to make amends for being such a prick. Repeatedly. Believe me, it wasn’t easy. You’ve been hell on wheels. But I had to do something. Every day I want you more. I need you more." His hands wandered over my body. "I never thought I’d get married, but now I know, I will marry you."
“What?" I exclaimed.
Fuck! What did he just say? Married? Goddamnedshitpissfuck!!
I couldn’t rein in the sheer terror crossing my face.
"You heard me." He smiled my favorite crooked smile. "You said you won't run but I'm going to make sure you can't."
This was the moment to bring up my commitment issues I could elaborate on why I thought fate would take it all away, regardless of what we wanted. That fairy tales weren’t real. That regardless of what we wanted or deserved, life made other plans. I could remind him both Christopher and his stepfather were proof of that. That my family had all but evaporated into thin air. I would force myself to keep my cool while I explained.
Or you could shut your mouth and snuggle into him and his painfully sweet notion.
With that thought, something unfamiliar thumped through my veins. It was an undeniable yearning, a need much the same as air or water, but this time for a forever. Picturing a future with Nick, simple, complex, or otherwise, was kind of amazing.
