by Hill, Sierra
A sudden jolt of turbulence had Rylie nearly jumping out of her seat, her hands grabbing tightly onto the armrests, her body jerking upright. He watched as her heavy eyelids opened half-mast, as she slowly recognized her surroundings and breathed a sigh of relief. Mitch took the opportunity to raise the armrest between them and patted his lap, giving Rylie permission to lay down.
Too drowsy to protest, she placed her head down across Mitch’s lap and sank her face into the warm denim material. Mitch knew this would be a bad idea, knowing he’d be hard in seconds, but it felt too good to change direction now. And he was well aware that this was a one-time event, knowing full well if she hadn’t been blissed out on her little dose of heaven, her head would be nowhere near his leg.
Adjusting himself slightly, he leaned back in his seat and with nowhere else for his hands to go, he placed one hand on Rylie’s head. Brushing away a few strands that had fallen across her face, Mitch slowly began to stroke her hair, which was fanned out in silky wisps across his leg, weaving his fingers in and around, trailing from her scalp down to her mid-back. His hand stopped just shy of the bottom of her cream colored top, which had come loose from the black leggings she wore. Unable to stop it, his hand skimmed down to the curve of her hips, where it rested and his eyes scanned to view a scrap of baby blue lace peeking out from her waistband.
Fuuuck.
Before his thoughts even caught up with him, his fingers began to toy with the lace, agilely grazing the soft backside, just inches from her firm ass. He continued his leisurely play until Rylie let out a soft mewling sound. His fingers stilled momentarily, until she snuggled closer to him, her breasts pressing up against his hard leg. He stiffened, feeling the uncomfortable bulge straining against his jean zipper.
Mitch cursed under his breath as he considered his options. One, he could very carefully move her off his lap and back up into her seat, where he’d be freed from the agony of her face planted securely near his dick. Unlikely his dick definitely liked her presence there.
Okay, idea number two. He’d leave her head on his lap and he would try to conjure up memories of his grandmother baking him cookies when he was in Boy Scouts. Yes, that’s it. Thinking of Grandma would help reduce the temptation of touching the sleeping beauty on his lap and keep his thoughts wholesome and pure. But it wouldn’t eliminate them entirely. Grandma or no Grandma, Rylie’s sprawled body lying across his lap, snug and tight, had his hands itching to roam.
That left option number three. He could endure the torture and enjoy the secret thrill of knowing that Rylie was wearing the sexiest lace panties he’d ever seen and with the hope that he would see more of it in the not-so-distant future. Yes, he decided. He would sit and suffer in silence, with his hard-on the size of Florida with no hope of relief, and relish in the sheer fact that she was there with him.
He smiled at the thought. Last week, had she had her way, she never would have set eyes on him again. She ran from him. Ran from the inevitable. But he wouldn’t lose the fight. He found a way to get her back, if only for a few days, and under cleverly disguised pretenses. Now they were on their way to Miami and he planned to take full advantage of their time together. He had no doubt he’d be seeing those lace panties soon enough…
****
“Please return all tray tables and seats to their upright position and prepare for landing.” The flight attendant announced loudly over the microphone.
Rylie slowly stirred awake, her head still in a fog. Her eyes flicked open, blinking once and then twice, as she lifted her head trying to recall where she was. Planting her hands on something very hard and very firm, she pushed herself to a sitting position. Realization struck her like a lightning bolt. Her eyes directed to the spot on Mitch’s lap where she’d just been napping, a small wet stain graced the leg of his jeans, just south of his crotch.
His laugh had her jerking her head back to look at him. “For the record, that wet spot is your drool…definitely not me.”
Rylie was mortified as she looked at him in horror. She had no recollection of falling asleep or how she ended up laying on his lap or even how long she’d been sleeping, but the drool spot she conveniently left for him was a visual demarcation of her embarrassment.
Mitch returned the armrest down to its original place and pushed his seat forward. Using his shirtsleeve, he rubbed his jeans where she had just inhabited, trying to erase the damp spot.
“I have to say, that was the sweetest two hours of torture I’ve ever endured.”
Rylie’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “Oh my God, I feel like a complete dumbass. Why didn’t you just wake me up or push me off?”
He gave her a speculative look, his eyebrows raised in question. “Why would I want to do that? Any man with a chance to have a beautiful woman on his lap would do the same thing. My little friend here feels a bit deceived, however,” Mitch chuckled as he bent his head to aim at his crotch. “When a woman’s mouth is that close, he normally thinks he’s getting some dessert. But don’t worry – he won’t hold it against you…well, not unless he gets lucky.” His tone was joking, but she could hear the desire twisting through his words.
Rylie’s blush deepened as she looked away and covered her face in her hands, groaning audibly. “Are you seriously trying to embarrass me or just get under my skin with your not-so-subtle sexual commentary?”
Mitch stood up to grab their bags from the overhead bins and handed Rylie her carry-on. “Neither, really. I was just hoping it might turn you on. That would make us even right about now.”
She glared at him as she accepted her bag and placed it on her shoulder. Okay, so maybe the feel of his thick, muscular thighs did have her obsessing over the thought of running her hands up and down his legs, which would make any hot-blooded woman lust out. And it wasn’t like all his references to his over-eager dick didn’t have her body heating up just a little bit. She wasn’t dead. She would never admit it to him, but it was kind of hot.
She shook her head, trying to make her scowl look more realistic than it felt. “Not a chance. Maybe your charm and blatant sexual innuendo’s work on other women, but you’ll have to try harder than that for me.” She silently kicked herself as soon as she let the words fly. Why the hell would she say that? It offered the possibility of him having a chance to get with her. Did she want that potential growing between them?
Mitch turned back to look at her as they departed the plane. A gleam in his eye told her exactly what he was thinking.
“Well then. It’s a good thing I work very hard for the things I want, IQ. Sounds like I might have a chance with you after all, since I’m pulling out all the stops this week.”
Mitch ducked his head as he exited the plane and smiled back at Rylie.
“Oh, and by the way. I like the blue panties you’re wearing.”
Rylie nearly tripped over her feet as she saw the devilish grin and his dimple appear and then disappear as he walked ahead of her and off the plane.
Holy shit. How did he know the color of her underwear?
CHAPTER twelve
The embarrassment that Rylie felt was soon replaced with awe as she and Mitch made their way along Miami Highway One in the white BMW Z4 convertible Mitch had rented. The Atlantic Ocean was a swirling mass of blue and green, the warm Florida sun sparkling across the water, waves and sand.
Salty ocean air wafted through the car as they continued south along Biscayne Boulevard en route to Coral Gables. Rylie couldn’t help but smile as she felt the warm breeze hit her face and whip her hair behind her, a waving silk flag of chestnut streaming in every direction. She stole a glance over at Mitch, his eyes hidden behind a dark pair of Ray-Ban aviators and a baseball cap shadowing his face. What she could see as she covertly glanced at his profile was the golden-hued stubble that blanketed his jaw and his mouth that was upturned in a gentle smile. He was obviously enjoying the drive. He looked sexy and relaxed.
They rode in a comfortable silence through south Miami for c
lose to twenty minutes until they drove past a sign welcoming them to Coral Gables. As they drove the palm tree lined streets, Rylie was captivated by the sheer opulence and majesty of the multi-million dollar mansions they passed. Turning down Harbor Point, Mitch maneuvered around twists and turns until they came to a gated entry, not unlike his own home back in Boston. Leaning out of the car, Mitch entered the code and the large wrought-iron doors opened to a long winding driveway. As he stretched out over the car door, his T-shirt lifted to expose his sleek lower back. Rylie swallowed hard, willing herself to look away.
At the end of the drive sat the largest and most beautiful Mediterranean-style, red-shingled roof mansion she had ever seen. Her jaw dropped as she turned to look Mitch, who had just put the car in park and gotten out to stretch his legs.
“Please tell me you don’t own this place.”
Mitch grinned, stripping off his shades to look up at the home looming in front of them. Shaking his head, he picked up a bag from the trunk and slipped it over his shoulder.
“I wish. She’s a beauty,” he smirked, pointedly directing his response to Rylie as he said it. “The house belongs to my old college buddy, Richard. He bought his place a few years ago and is now in the midst of a divorce. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say he did a lot of entertaining down here without his wife, who later became aware of all of his transgressions. Now he has to sell the house as a part of the divorce. He only put it up on the market a few weeks ago, but said I could crash here during my trip, since it’s not in use.”
“Too bad for him, the scumbag. But on the bright side, his loss is our gain, I’d say.” She reached into the trunk and pulled out her bags and headed into the front entry behind Mitch, who entered yet another code into the key box.
His comments about his friend had her wondering about Mitch’s past and whether he had been married. She only knew he wasn’t married now, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been a woman in his life before this. In fact, aside from his penchant for flirting, she had no idea whether he was a serial dater, a monogamous lover, or just a one-night stand kind of man. She shouldn’t care, really. But even so, her curiosity was piqued and a small spark of jealously ignited in her belly. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The gate door led into a small Mediterranean courtyard laden with a Grecian-style ornate fountain and ivy snaking up the sides of the walls. Mitch unlocked the glass double doors as he gestured for Rylie to lead the way. She stopped short as she entered, causing Mitch to nearly plow into her backside when she stopped just inside the foyer. She stood in complete astonishment as she soaked in the scenery around her. A one-eighty degree view of the ocean spanned the room, which was decorated in bright white furniture, accented with gold and red pillows and rugs. The entire back of the home was wall-to-wall windows, and sliding glass doors leading out to the pool and patio.
Letting her bags drop to the floor, she walked toward the back and opened the sliding door, stepping out to the patio. White covered lounge chairs circled the underground pool, which was shaped like a club card, and led to a Jacuzzi that overlooked a private dock oceanside. A very large yacht, docked on the slip, bobbed up and down as the waves caressed its bows. The water was so crystal blue, and the sunlight glittered off the expanse of ocean like thousands of diamonds on display. Her hand came up to shield her eyes from the brightness.
Rylie exhaled as she took in the magnificence of her surroundings. “Holy shit, Camden. I think I may be in the market for a new home. You think your friend will give me a good deal?”
Mitch had sidled up behind her, making it obvious that he was admiring both the view of the water and Rylie’s backside.
“I’m sure he’d be willing to consider a lower price if I put in a good word for you.” He slid his arm around her waist, his hand moving down to lightly rest on the curve of her hip. He let out a roar of laughter when she jerked away from his grip with lightning fast speed.
“I was just testing the waters,” he joked, shrugging his shoulders in feigned innocence. “And speaking of waters, get a load of the yacht. She’s a sixty-five foot Marquis that Rich bought a few years back. He took me out on it the last time I came down for a visit. Wait until you see inside. It has three staterooms, two heads, a fly-bridge, state-of-the-art galley, an upper and lower deck…she’s impressive.”
Rylie found it amusing how excited Mitch seemed to get over the description of the boat. She’d been out on her uncle’s fishing boat in the past, but never on a luxury yacht like the one in front of her. Curious as to the name of the boat, she walked to the stern to find out its name. Pussy Whipped. Well, that explained a lot.
“It’s a wonder his wife didn’t catch on a little sooner to his extra-curricular activities.”
Mitch chuckled and shook his head. “Rich was always a cad, even in college. He never had less than a few women at the same time. There’s no way Belinda wasn’t aware of what she was getting into when she married him. And if she didn’t, well…at least now she’s a much wiser and wealthier woman.”
Rylie couldn’t help her look of dismay. “So you condone that sort of behavior from married men?”
“Wait, what? Of course not. How did you possibly deduct that from what I just said? I was just stating a fact about Rich and Belinda. I have nothing to do with my friend’s adulterous ways. He and I are nothing alike,” he emphasized. “I believe in monogamy and honesty when I’m in a relationship, if you must know.”
She looked at Mitch and then back at the boat, giving it one final assessment. She didn’t mean to accuse Mitch of the same thing, but it did help to reveal his feelings on faithfulness and honesty in a relationship. It didn’t change anything, but it did quiet that jealousy monster that popped up earlier.
“Good to know…thanks for sharing.” Rylie flung her hair back and turned to walk back to the house. “So, since I am here to work, I think it might be a good idea to take advantage of the pool for your therapy today. Want to give it a try?”
Mitch’s face drew up in a broad, playful smile.
“With or without our suits?”
****
Feeling entirely too self-conscious, Rylie stepped out on her second floor bedroom balcony, clad in her blue Nike one piece, a towel wrapped securely around her waist. Although she had brought two other suits that belonged to Sasha, she chose to wear the more functional suit while working with Mitch on his exercises. Even though it covered all of her torso and chest, it was still revealing enough, hugging every curve of her body and accentuating her cleavage, which she was currently trying to contain with her arms strapped tightly across her chest.
From her perch above, she could see Mitch sitting by the side of the pool, lazily swinging his lower legs back and forth, creating small circular whirlpools. His long, lean and very muscular torso was exposed to her. She felt like a voyeur from her hidden spot high above, watching him with interest as he tested the waters. He was clearly enjoying the sun’s rays, as it cast its light across his body, lighting him up in a warm glow. As he bent over the side to scoop some water up in his cupped hand, she noticed the way his back muscles tightened and released. She could practically feel them strain, taught and tense, as she ran her hands up and down their length. He was a beautiful Adonis.
Turning to leave, Rylie stubbed her toe against an ill-placed planter with some sort of fragrant floral arrangement and let out a small curse. She stood stock still, hoping he didn’t hear her muffled cry. She timidly peered back to find Mitch looking up at her with an amused grin, his eyes shaded by his hand.
“Liking the view from up there, Rapunzel?”
She smiled tightly, feeling chagrined that she was caught watching him.
“How could I not? The ocean is magnificent!” she chirped, easing out of her discomfort. He was now watching her intently, his eyes grazing over her body. She coughed to clear her throat, which had dried up with his seductive perusal. “I’ll be right down.”
Maneuvering herself around and
away from the vicious planter, she stepped back into the room and made her way down the stairway to the doors leading to the back patio. This place was paradise. The beautiful surroundings and the tropical atmosphere enveloped her senses, melting away the stress and embarrassment from moments before. She inhaled, closing her eyes to let the warm air infiltrate her thoughts, calming her like a drug. She needed to let go of this stupid fear that gripped her like a vice, twisting and pressing her down, like the hands of her assailant. This stranglehold had controlled her life over the last five years and it wasn’t a way to live. She couldn’t be that person any longer. She needed her freedom.
Her career and her friends and family had been her life preserver all this time, giving her shelter and protection, but preventing her from breaking out of the chains she’d so tightly clung to. As she considered the way she was feeling toward Mitch, she realized she should feel lucky to be in this position, where she could work for and in the company of a gorgeous man in a tropical paradise, away from the stress and triviality of the real world. She should enjoy his flirtatious remarks and playful antics, instead of remaining bitter and angry over what she couldn’t have. Why couldn’t she just let loose a little bit and enjoy the moment? Revel in his flirtatious and salacious nature?
Mitch seemed genuinely interested in her and hadn’t done anything to prove otherwise. So why not just go with the flow…let the cards fall where they may? Be a carefree Rylie and not let the tough and rigid Rylie get in the way of fun. She smiled to herself, nodding in agreement at her decision, as she stepped out into the hot sunlight and caught sight of Mitch lying flat out against the colorful tiles of the pool deck.
