Famous

by Marie Force

  And none of these thoughts are able to distract me enough to control the explosive orgasm that’s about to boil over. “Natalie…” She knows me well enough by now to understand the warning I’m offering. If she doesn’t do something—soon—I can’t be responsible for what happens next, which is an entirely new phenomena that’s all her fault. Before her, control was never a challenge for me. With her, it’s a constant, delightful struggle. With her, everything is different, better, more.

  She runs her tongue over my cock, and I jolt. “You’re sure you can’t tell me anything about what you’ve got planned?”

  “Yeah.” The single word emerges on a gasp when she wraps her hand around the base and teases the tip with her tongue. “Babe.”

  “Yes, Flynn?”

  My little minx is enjoying this, but then again, so am I. If she’s in the room, I’m happy. At times like this, I’m downright delirious because she’s all mine and I’m the only man in the world who will ever know this sexy, seductive, mischievous side of her. I’m about to spill the beans on the plan for Aspen when she sucks me into her mouth and finishes me off. I come so hard, I see stars, and she never misses a beat as she swallows every drop. She does it so well that I’m still hard when it’s over.

  “I thought I could break you.”

  I hate that she sounds disappointed in herself, and that’s what finally breaks me the way nothing else ever could. Extending my arms, I encourage her to join me on the bed.

  She curls up to me, and I hold her close. “We’re going to Aspen with the whole gang. Your sisters, too.”

  “Oh, Flynn! Really?”

  Nodding, I run my fingers through her silky dark hair, loving the way her green eyes dance with joy. “I wanted you to have a big family Christmas to make up for all the years you were alone for the holidays.”

  I’m horrified when her gorgeous eyes fill with tears. She knows I can’t handle it when she cries. It makes me insane. After the pain she endured as a teenager, I never want her to be sad or upset again, even if I know that’s an unrealistic goal.

  “Don’t do that.” I wipe away the tears that spill down her cheeks. She’s been a regular waterworks since she got pregnant, which I’m told is perfectly normal even if every one of her tears is like a razor to my heart.

  “Can’t help it.” She leans in to kiss me. “You’re so sweet.”

  “I am not sweet.” My inner Dom cringes at that word she tosses around a little too often for my liking.

  “Yes, you really are.”

  “I’ll show you sweet.” I move so I’m on top of her, but I’m careful not to put any weight on the baby bump. I arrange her legs so they’re propped on my hips and slide into her slowly and carefully so I won’t hurt her or the baby. I’m always so afraid of hurting her that our sex life has become downright vanilla since she got pregnant. I’ll indulge in the occasional spank or surprise her with a toy every now and then, but the kinky business is on hold until after she gives birth.

  It’s funny that I don’t even miss it. Before Nat, I would’ve been bored without it. With her, it doesn’t matter what we do as long as we do it together. I watch her closely, looking for any sign of discomfort. I’m big, she’s tight, and the baby is taking up a lot of room in there.

  “Okay?”

  She nods, looking up at me with those bottomless eyes that see straight through to the heart of me, the heart that belongs to her and only her. I knew the first day I met her that there’d never again be anyone else for me, and a year later, I only want her more than I did then, if that’s even possible.

  She reaches up to run her fingers through my hair, her touch sending a shiver down my spine. “Why do you look so serious?”

  “Making love to my wife is very serious business.”

  “Stop worrying about hurting me. It feels amazing as always.”

  In her second trimester, we’ve discovered that being pregnant makes her super horny and orgasmic, two things I’m happy to indulge whenever she snaps her fingers. I’m her slave, and she knows it, but I’m always careful with her.

  We’ve argued about that. She doesn’t want me treating her differently because she’s pregnant. I can’t help my need to protect her and the baby from anything that would harm them, even me. So I give her easy when my inclination is usually fast and hard. We’ll get back to regular programming after our bundle of joy arrives. For now, slow and easy is the routine. She doesn’t seem to mind as I can feel the almost constant grip of her internal muscles massaging my cock as one orgasm rolls into another.

  Since she took the edge off for me, I can wait her out, keeping up the pace until I sense her beginning to tire. That’s another thing that happens far more easily since she’s been pregnant. When I feel her starting to come again, I let go and allow myself to join her because she needs her rest—not because I’ve had enough. I’ll never get enough of her.

  I stay deep inside her as I gaze down at the face that changed my life. “I can’t wait to spend Christmas with you.”

  “I can’t wait either. And it’s your birthday.”

  “It’s not about me. It’s all about you.”

  “It’s about us and the people we love best.”

  Her eyes are heavy, and her lips are slightly swollen from the blow job. She’s stunning. “The only thing I want for Christmas or my birthday is you.”

  “I can do better than that.”

  “No, you can’t.”

  She falls asleep with a small, contented smile on her face. Sometimes I still can’t believe that this is my life now, that she is my life now. If you’d told me this time last year that I’d be so completely in love with someone that I’d actually marry her and start a family, I would’ve laughed in your face. After the disaster that was my first marriage, I’d publicly sworn off matrimony and anything that smacked of commitment. And then there was Natalie and her bitchy little dog and that face… Dear God, that face. I run my fingertip lightly over her cheek.

  The best part of the plan for Christmas is a full week with her. I can’t wait.

  Ten days later, a boisterous group arrives at LAX for the flight to Aspen. The only thing detracting from my euphoric mood is the weather forecast coming from Aspen, where a blizzard has been threatening all week. We’re leaving a day earlier than planned, hoping to get there before the storm materializes, but the predictions keep changing and the various models are giving differing information. My parents and sisters Annie and Aimee as well as their families will be flying up on Christmas Eve, the same day Natalie’s sisters are due to arrive.

  My stomach is in knots. I’m not a huge fan of flying in the best of conditions but knowing we could be flying into a storm doesn’t sit well with me, even if I trust the pilots who’ve worked for us for years. They moved up our time of departure hoping to outrun the storm.

  Natalie, who cuddles Fluff on her lap, senses my anxiety and keeps a tight hold on my hand, even after we’re buckled into our seats. “Relax. You’re on vacation, and everything is going to be fine.”

  All around us, happy-sounding voices discuss plans for skiing, snowboarding, sledding, snowman-making and other winter activities. Aileen’s kids, Logan and Maddie, are so excited for Christmas and the trip that Kristian warns us they might spontaneously combust. Maddie was concerned about Santa finding them in Aspen, but Kristian assured her that Santa always knows where she is. Aileen and Kristian shipped gifts to the house in Aspen on Santa’s behalf. Like me, he’s looking forward to his first Christmas as a family man, and we’re all excited about having the kids with us for Christmas morning. Next year, we’ll add two more little ones to the family—ours as well as Jasper and Ellie’s. Those are the two we know about so far, but with everyone in our group pairing off and falling in love, the baby boom is apt to continue for quite some time to come.

  Fine by me. More people to love.

  Across the aisle from us, Addie is cozied up to Hayden, who has an arm around her. I keep waiting to hear that she’s
expecting, too, but so far, there’s no news on that front, and Nat tells me I’m not allowed to ask her. Behind us, Leah and Emmett are giggling and whispering the way they do these days, and in the last row, Sebastian, who is Hayden’s childhood friend and the manager of our BDSM club, sits alone, gazing out the window. He jokes about being the eleventh wheel with us, but claims he has no desire to be attached to anyone. I don’t see him settling down any time soon, even if the rest of us are. His philosophy has always been why would he want just one woman when he can have all the women? That used to be my philosophy, too, until I found the woman in the most unlikely of places. I run a finger over the small scar on my arm where Fluff bit me that first day. I wear that scar like a badge of honor, a reminder of how life can change in a matter of seconds.

  “Where the hell is Marlowe?” Hayden asks.

  “She said she’d be here,” Leah replies.

  “We’re on a time crunch with the storm looming.” I glance at Leah over the top of my seat. “Will you call her?”

  “Yep.”

  If she doesn’t arrive soon, we’re going without her. She can catch up when lover boy arrives from France. I can hear Leah’s side of the conversation and catch enough to know they’re coming.

  “Five minutes,” Leah confirms. “Rafe’s flight from Paris was late getting in.”

  I hate that he’s coming with us, but I’d never say so to Marlowe. I just keep hoping she’ll realize she can do much better than a phony charmer with a French accent and a questionable past. And yes, I had Gordon, our director of security, look into the guy and didn’t like some of what he uncovered, especially the part about his ex-wife claiming he was violent with her during divorce proceedings. He was never actually charged, but somehow Gordon found out about it, telling me it’s not something that would be revealed in a routine search, which I’ve also done.

  In order to bring this info to Marlowe, I’d need to confess to having had her boyfriend investigated. No one else knows I did that, not even Natalie, who’d be pissed with me for butting into Marlowe’s life. But with every instinct I have telling me the guy is no good, I have no regrets about having Gordon take a look at him. Rather than start an international incident with one of my best friends at Christmas, I’ve decided to take a wait-and-see approach. I’m living proof that people can grow and mature over time, and I want to give Rafe the benefit of the doubt for Marlowe’s sake. I hope I’m wrong about him.

  Marlowe comes up the stairs and onto the plane, red-faced and out of breath from the dash through the airport. Unfortunately, Rafe is right behind her, equally winded and red-faced.

  “So sorry to hold you all up.” His English heavily accented with French inflections. “All my fault.”

  It’s telling that none of us have anything to say to him. I wonder if she notices that or if she’s so besotted, she can’t see the forest through the proverbial trees. He’s been in France the last three weeks, and she’s been looking forward to his return while the rest of us dreaded it. Our only hope is that she grows tired of him before she does something stupid like marry him. God forbid. Hayden and I would have to be held back from throwing ourselves between the two of them before they could say “I do.”

  “Let’s go.” I signal that we’re ready to the steward who will keep us in cocktails and snacks for the flight. He notifies the pilots, and a few minutes later, we’re taxiing out to the runway.

  My anxiety is through the roof. I want everything to be perfect for Nat, including the flight. With everyone else in high spirits, I try to relax and enjoy the time with my favorite people. But as it turns out, I was right to be anxious.

  The flight is super bumpy from the minute we take off, and the atmosphere onboard the plane becomes much more subdued when the pilots ask us—and the steward who was supposed to keep us in booze—to remain seated. Fuck. I hate this. I can handle takeoff and landing like a pro, but turbulence freaks me out. There’s no breakdown lane up here, and as we bounce around, I fear I might get sick.

  “Babe.”

  I look over to find Natalie paler than usual. She doesn’t like this any more than I do, but she’s calmer than I am.

  She looks me in the eye. “Breathe.”

  I take a couple of deep breaths that help to calm me ever so slightly.

  The plane hits a big bump.

  “Fuck,” Hayden mutters.

  Couldn’t have said it better myself.

  “Flynn.”

  I look over at him and lift my chin. Addie has her eyes closed and her lips are moving, as if she’s praying.

  “Should we be doing this?” Hayden asks.

  “I assume the pilots will tell us if we need to divert or turn back.”

  Imagine the headlines if the five Quantum principals go down in a plane together. Jesus. That’s a cheery thought. I hold on tight to Natalie’s hand and offer a few prayers of my own as we bump and roll through the clouds for more than an hour before we hear from the pilot again.

  “Sorry for the rough ride, folks. We’re not finding any smooth air up here, and we’re hearing it’s going to get worse the closer we get to Aspen.”

  I can’t imagine it getting any worse than it is right now.

  “We’re going to land and figure out a plan. Sorry about the inconvenience.”

  At this point, inconvenience is the least of my concerns. We begin to descend, and the turbulence gets even worse. It’s so bad, I wonder how the plane doesn’t disintegrate. Behind me, Aileen and the kids are crying. Kristian tries to comfort them, but I can hear panic in his voice that fuels my own.

  This fucking sucks.

  Every minute feels like an hour as we move through dark, stormy clouds. Just when I think I can’t take it for another second, we break through the clouds and the ground appears, shrouded in fog and mist. I have no idea where we are, but I’ve never been so happy to see the ground. Five minutes later, the pilots execute a flawless landing.

  As relief floods my system, the others cheer.

  “Thank God,” Natalie whispers.

  Couldn’t have said it better myself. I may never fly again after that.

  The PA system crackles to life. “Welcome to Saint George, Utah, where the local time is four oh two p.m.”

  I look across the aisle. “Addison.”

  Addie leans forward so she can see around Hayden.

  “What do we know about Saint George, Utah?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’ll get right on it.”

  She whips out her iPhone and starts clicking away.

  I turn my attention to Natalie. “Sorry about this, sweetheart. It’s not exactly what I had planned.”

  “It’s an adventure, and what does it matter where we are? We’re all together, and we’re alive. There’s a lot to be said for that.”

  “Indeed, there is.” I decide right then and there to let go of my plans and preconceived notions about the perfect Christmas and let it unfold in whatever way it’s meant to. I’m with Natalie, my sister and my closest friends, and we’re safe after a harrowing flight. I couldn’t care less what happens next.

  After the pilots inform us that we’re done flying for the day—and possibly tomorrow, too—Addie works her magic and finds the one motel in town that can accommodate all of us. When the owners hear who their guests are, they send people from town to pick us up and deliver us to the Castaway Inn—a fitting name in light of our predicament.

  Addie had arranged to bring days’ worth of food and booze with us on the plane so we wouldn’t need to worry about grocery shopping when we got to Aspen. We bring everything with us to the motel.

  The place is clean but basic, one of those roadside places in which the doors open into the parking lot and the rooms are adjoining. Not exactly the accommodations we’ve become accustomed to, but the certainty we were going to die on that plane has put us all in a festive mood. Fluff sniffs every square inch of the place and apparently finds it to her liking. She curls up in a ball on our bed and is snoring withi
n minutes.

  We throw open the connecting doors inside the rooms, and before long, we’ve got a full-on party going. It’s a good thing we’re the only guests, because we’d probably get kicked out if there were others.

  By six o’clock, it’s snowing hard and accumulating rapidly.

  Over the next two days, the weather only gets worse, and we begin to accept that Christmas in Aspen isn’t going to happen. Nat’s sisters and the rest of my family are grounded, too, and we’ve been in touch with them to commiserate about best-laid plans.

  We’re passing the time eating, sleeping and playing the board games we found in a closet in the main part of the motel, which also has a kitchen the starstruck owners made available to us. Even Rafe has been more enjoyable than usual, which is a relief as we’re stuck in close quarters. Despite the close quarters, I’m still getting plenty of time alone with Natalie, which is the best part of being stranded.

  If I’m being honest, this is the most relaxed I’ve been in longer than I can remember. There’s absolutely nothing to do but be together, which is perfect in its own way. Aileen, who had a mini freak-out when she realized we’d be stuck here for Christmas, told the kids that Santa will find them, but it may not be right on Christmas Day since we aren’t where we’re supposed to be.

  Thankfully, they seem to have accepted that explanation as they decorated the “Charlie Brown” tree me and the guys found in a deserted tree lot down the street from the motel. The kids spent the day making paper snowflakes and other improvised decorations. The gifts the rest of us brought on the plane for the kids are underneath the tree for Christmas morning. As Aileen said, Logan and Maddie are far more accustomed to “sparse” Christmases than they are with a windfall, so they’re perfectly content with what they have.