“I don’t have a temporary crush on you, Jake,” I said. “I like you, I actually fucking like you, and I don’t need you to try and convince me that I don’t. As good as sex with you is, I’m not going to continue risking my job over it, or let my feelings get hurt by someone who doesn’t like me back. So, I think you should leave. Now.”
A confused look etched across his face, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me.
“Why are you here anyway?” I pulled my hand away from him. “You’re supposed to be in Hawaii.”
“I thought I wanted to see you.” He shook his head. “But now that you’ve once again decided that you can literally make even the most pointless conversations ten times more pointless, I’ve come to my senses. See you Friday in New York. E4.” He headed toward the door.
“Did you not hear any of what I said?” I scoffed. “We’re over. Done. I won’t be there.”
“Jesus, Gillian.” He groaned, still walking. “I get the goddamn point. Can I leave the room before you say anything else?”
“You’ll regret this someday…” I muttered under my breath, but he turned around.
“The only thing I regret is that I never got the chance to see your talkative-ass-mouth swallow something other than words.”
My jaw dropped.
“Yes.” He looked me up and down before slamming the door. “Yes, I really fucking said that.”
I stared at the door seconds after it shut.
Upset that he’d gotten the last word, I rushed over to open it, to hurl one last zinger at him as he left, but when I opened the door, he wasn’t walking to the elevators. He was standing right in front of me.
His mouth immediately latched onto mine and he picked me up, forcing me to wrap my legs around him. The door slammed behind us both and our lips fought for control, he growled against my mouth.
“You talk so fucking much, Gillian…So fucking much…” He tore his mouth away from mine and tossed me onto the bed.
My bath towel fell off, exposing my body and he pulled his shirt over his head—revealing abs that still made me bite my lip whenever I saw them.
Still glaring at me, he began to unbuckle his pants, but I moved closer to the edge of the bed and grabbed his wrist.
“Let me,” I said, my voice more demanding than normal.
He raised his eyebrow at my tone, but he moved his hand away.
Pulling his belt through the loops, I let it fall to the floor and unzipped his pants. I slowly pushed his briefs down a bit, letting his hardened cock free, and without hesitating another second, I slowly covered the head of it with my mouth.
He groaned, grabbing a fistful of my hair as I slowly sucked his cock deeper into my mouth, as I let it hit the back of my throat. I moved my mouth up and down his length, darting my tongue against his tip each time I pulled back.
“Fuck, Gillian…” He looked down at me, his eyes glazed over, his lips parted.
Relishing the control I had over him, I gripped the base of his cock with my hand and teased him with the pressure as his muscles tensed.
My mouth continued to move over his cock, my saliva coating every inch of skin, and both his hands were in my hair—gently attempting to control my rhythm.
He said my name again, harsh and guttural and I slid my free hand between his legs as he shut his eyes. I pressed the pad of my fingertips against his balls and massaged them—earning another low groan from him.
I started to take him deep again, but he suddenly pulled me back—letting his cock slip from my lips.
“I’m about to come…” he said, his eyes dark and heated. “So, if you’re—”
I didn’t let him finish. I wrapped my mouth around his cock again, letting him grip my hair once more, letting him roughly guide me back and forth.
He whispered curses as his thickness swelled against my jaws, and as his leg muscles tensed one last time, warm come slashed against the back of my throat. I gripped his legs as the rest of it came, swallowing every drop until he was finished.
When I was sure that was all, I looked up at him and noticed he was staring at me. I opened my mouth to say something, but he pressed his finger against mine before I could get a single word out.
“Not right now,” he said. He pulled me up and onto the bed, locking me in his arms as he kissed my lips.
He ran his hands against my bare back and whispered. “Even if I do like you…”
“I think you do.”
“Shut up, Gillian.” He bit me. “Even if I do like you—which I don’t, you’re going to have to come up with a much better reason than that to get me to stop fucking you…” He ran his fingers through my hair, and I felt his cock hardening against my thigh.
“I can deal with one broken rule,” he said, lifting me up and slowly sliding me onto him. “As long as you can agree that it’ll be our ‘only one’?” He gripped my hips, not waiting for a response, and he fucked me harder than he ever had for the rest of the night.
Gate B22
Gillian
Los Angeles (LAX)
* * *
“It’s a CR-9,” I said, hours later. “Easy.”
“Close.” Jake pulled me closer. “It’s an MD-88.”
“Four out of five isn’t bad.”
“You’ve only gotten four out of twenty, Gillian.” He smiled. “That’s terrible.”
It was four in the morning and we were laying on the roof of a private, charter airport across the city. Much to his insistence, and after we both agreed that we were restless after three rounds of sex tonight, he said he “had an idea” and ordered a luxury cab to bring us here.
He’d held my face and kissed me the entire ride, causing butterflies to flutter against my stomach, forcing the driver to shut the partition.
“If this was a couple of years ago—” I turned on my side and looked into his eyes. “I would’ve gotten every single one of them right.”
“Why a couple years ago?”
“Because I used to write about planes and the aviation industry for the paper. Not all the time, but a couple times a month.”
He was quiet, running his fingers through my hair. “Why did you quit?”
“I didn’t quit. I was fired.”
He looked surprised. “For slander?”
“For the truth.”
“Hmmm.” He trailed a finger across my lips. “Did it have anything to do with Elite, or he who shall never be named between us?”
“No,” I said. “It was personal. Someone burned me, so I burned them back.”
“How mature.”
I changed the subject. “What were you doing a couple years ago?”
“Flying.”
“Is this all you’ve ever done?”
“Yes.”
“Jake…” I sighed. “Do you see how when you ask me questions, I elaborate, but when I ask you, you give me one word answers?”
“Then maybe you should ask better questions.”
“Fine. Why didn’t you tell my supervisor on me after the night I left your apartment?”