Flyover (1 Night Stand Series) Page 2

  He’d been shocked to receive the confirmation and the arrangements for his one-night stand. He hadn’t actually thought it would happen. Yet there he was, fresh from cursing his luck with the weather, stunned that Fate reached down a hand to bring him and Chelsea together. Because surprise! His ‘date’ turned out to be sexy, warm, and comfortable to be with. At least as far as he could tell from the little time they’d spent together.

  When he’d checked into the hotel along with the hordes who’d also been left stranded, he’d been told the only thing left were suites. At the time he’d bitched about the extra expense for something he’d only occupy for a few hours. Now he saw it as a fortunate twist of fate.

  “Wow!” Chelsea stepped through the doorway and glanced around the living room of the suite. “You sure you weren’t expecting other company?”

  “Nope. I think the hotel gods were watching over me.”

  He took her coat, draped it over a chair and carried their suitcases into the bedroom. When he came back into the room, she stood by the window, looking out at the winter landscape. The soft fabric of her dress hugged her generous curves almost lovingly, and he wanted to run his hands over them. His cock hardened to where he could hammer nails with it, and his balls ached.

  Alec thought he should check the minibar, maybe offer her a drink. Talk a little while. They hadn’t done much of that in the bar. Get to know a little about each other. But the sexual tension was so strong he could almost see it. He didn’t remember the last time a woman had aroused him that fast without even any foreplay. Did she feel the same electricity? The same connection?

  He walked up behind her and hesitated a moment before resting his hands on her shoulders. When she didn’t try to shrug him off or move away, he knew she felt the same attraction he did. Was he moving too fast? Hell, sex was the main item on the night’s agenda, anyway. They both knew it. If she shut him down, he’d be no worse off than before.

  But she didn’t. When he brushed aside her thick mane of hair and skimmed his lips over the soft skin of her neck, a shiver ran through her. A silent acceptance of his touch. God, she smelled so good, like flowers and the ocean and sin. He licked her skin lightly then nibbled on the lobe of one ear.

  She pressed back against him, and he turned her to face him, studying her for a moment, then brushed his mouth over hers. Her lips were lush and full and tempting, with the feel of soft velvet. Tracing the seam of them with the tip of his tongue, he urged her to open for him and thrust inside her.

  Jesus!

  Her mouth was hot and liquid, her tongue dancing like a live wire. He moved his hands up and down her back, feeling the heat of her through the fabric of the dress. She gripped his biceps with her fingers, and when she pressed her lower body against his, every nerve in his body fired. He wanted to go slow, take it easy. Give her the chance to get used to him. They’d barely gotten to know each other. But his body and brain were engaged in a fierce battle for control.

  Their mouths still fused together, he slowly lowered the zipper at the back of her dress and pushed the material down toward her hips. He paused again for a fraction of a moment, waiting for her response. She made a slight sound of impatience, backed away from him, and shoved the dress the rest of the way down her body, kicking it and her shoes away. His mouth watered at the sight of her in a demi bra, a thong, and thigh-high hose. He wanted to grip her round hips, cup her generous breasts, and lick the inside of her curvaceous thighs.

  Holy God! He wanted to lick her all over.

  Thank you, Madame Eve.

  She ran her tongue over her lips, slightly swollen from their kiss.

  “Like what you see?” Her voice had a tentative tone to it, as if she wasn’t quite sure of herself.

  What asshole had made her doubt herself? “Oh, sugar, you have no idea how much.”

  In a frenzy, he shed his clothes, swallowing a smile at the way her eyes widened when his cock sprang free. And silently grateful that he kept in shape. Dropping to his knees in front of her, he grasped her hips and lapped at her mound through the thin silk of her thong. The cloth was already soaked and the scent of her arousal filled him like heady perfume. He ran the tip of his tongue around the edges of the little scrap of material, taking his time as he traced each line where hip and thigh joined. That simple contact with her skin alone made his tongue feel as if lightning surged through him.

  He cupped her ass, the roundness of it curving into his palms, and tugged her thong with his teeth. Easing it down only enough to bare her pussy, he took a moment to admire the neatly trimmed curls before trailing his tongue through her slit. Her juices soaked him, so delicious he had to stop short of plunging his tongue inside her. Instead he licked each of her satiny lips, paid special attention to her sensitive clit, and indulged his hunger by closing his teeth gently over the peak.

  Chelsea moaned and rocked her hips, begging for more, gripping his hair to anchor herself. He tormented her hot nub of flesh with teeth and tongue and licked every inch of her labia.

  “Oh, please,” she pleaded, her voice strained.

  Indulging them both, he stripped away the thong, fastened his mouth on her clit and slid two fingers inside her wet, waiting cunt. Thrusting in and out, he continued to suck her clit, and in little more than a minute the spasms began, rumbling up from deep inside her. The walls of her pussy convulsed, gripping his fingers like a vise. He kept his mouth on her clit, driving her higher and higher. Whimpers of pleasure burst from her throat as her body shook and she sank to the carpet.

  He held her in a firm grasp, steadying her, soothing her with his tongue until the tremors eased. She still had a stranglehold on his hair, but beneath him she lay limp and loose. Untangling her fingers, he lifted her to carry her into the bedroom. He stripped back the covers on the bed, placed her on the cool cotton sheets and bent over to brush a kiss over her mouth.

  “You are a delicious little treat, Chelsea Haller. Much tastier than I even hoped for.”

  “I usually take a little more time getting acquainted.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “But I couldn’t seem to help myself.”

  “Me, either. I wanted to taste you the minute I saw you in the bar.”

  “Same goes.” Reaching up, she cupped his cheek with her slender fingers. “How about coming down here so I can do some touching of my own?”

  He nudged her toward the center of the bed and stretched out full length beside her. “Don’t you need a few minutes to catch your breath?” he teased.

  “Actually, I multitask.”

  She eased to her side and trailed her fingers through the mat of hair covering his chest, scraping her fingers over his nipples and smiling when it drew a slight gasp from him. Fastening her mouth on one of the puckered little beads, she brushed her fingers over his abs, moving them down until she closed her fingers over his cock.

  Alec gritted his teeth, her touch so pleasurable as to be almost painful. A lot of women—too many—had touched him. His response had been mechanical, the reaction to sensory stimulation. Nothing like this, a totally different response. The moment she wrapped her cool fingers around him, his cock flexed in response. He did his best to hang onto control, but when she closed her lips over the head of his shaft, his balls tightened and the blood pulsed heavily in the vein.

  Hot, wet, snug, like her pussy, she drew him in, licking the sides, scraping lightly with her teeth. She slipped her free hand between his thighs to cup his balls, squeezing and releasing, sending hot streaks of lightning through him. Shoving his fingers through her hair, he gripped her head, moving it so her tongue touched in all the right places.

  Every muscle constricted as she worked him with her mouth and hands. But right at the moment she took him to the edge, he lifted her head and eased them both to the side.

  Chelsea blinked. “D-did I do something wrong?”

  “No, sugar, you were doing everything just right. But this time I want to be inside you when I come. Feel you around me.” He allowe
d himself a moment to lick each of her hardened nipples, then rolled to his feet and opened his suitcase.

  Why the fuck didn’t I stick a couple of condoms in my wallet?

  Because he’d expected to be doing all this in a different setting, to be fully prepared. To set the scene.

  He dug out his shaving kit, found the box of condoms and yanked one out. Tearing the foil, he quickly sheathed his rigid shaft. Moving over her, he nudged her legs apart, bending them back to have better access to her. He didn’t have to wonder if she was wet enough. Her juices still gleamed on the lips of her pussy, her clit a red, swollen knot. Positioning the head of his shaft at her opening, he entered her slowly, staring intently into her eyes. They widened as he filled her. He caught the little intake of breath.

  God, she felt like a wet fist clutching him. He hung so close to the edge he had to steel his body not to ride her hard. Instead he moved one hand to her clit, massaging it, watching the heat rise in her eyes, hearing the breathy little moans. The muscles of her cunt squeezed even more, and she dug her heels into the small of his back.

  And he drove into her, again and again.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to see your eyes when we go over. Look at me, Chelsea.”

  Her gaze met his as he thrust one last time, and they tumbled over the edge together. She shuddered with her orgasm, and he came like a maniac, so hard he wondered if his bones would shatter. Her inner walls clutched around him with such strength he never wanted to move.

  His heart thundered in his chest, his lungs ached for air. The magnitude of it stunned him. The force of it. He’d been having sex since he was fifteen, and no matter how hot or experienced the woman, it had never been like that. Nothing had ever been this physical. Which shocked him since they barely knew a thing about each other. Hadn’t even bothered with a ‘getting to know you’ conversation.

  Chelsea wound her arms around his neck as her tremors slowed. Alec tried to shift to the side, ease his weight off her, but she tightened her arms, keeping him in place.

  “Don’t move,” she breathed. “Please. Stay like this for a little bit longer.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll crush you.” He brushed his lips over hers.

  “Just for a minute. I’ll be fine.”

  He stayed, catching his weight on his forearms. Feathering kisses over her face. In her eyes he saw heat, desire, and a wealth of emotion that told him whatever magic he’d felt, she felt it, too.

  At last she loosened her hold on him. He slipped away, disposed of the condom then crawled back in beside her and pulled her against him.

  Holy shit! What just happened here?

  Chapter Three

  They sat side by side in bed, the sheet pulled up to their waists, a tray between them. Alec had hit up the mini bar and the fridge and arranged glasses, little bottles of wine, and cheese and crackers on the tray.

  “I didn’t know if you’d had dinner,” he said. “I probably should have asked if you wanted room service. When I checked in, they told me they’d be running it all night to accommodate the people who were stranded.”

  “I didn’t, but this is fine. Really.”

  “So, you know what I do for a living.” He laughed. “I think the pilot’s uniform probably gave me away.”

  “It suits you,” she said, and meant it.

  “And you?” he prodded. “I think Madame Eve said something about graphic arts, but she didn’t really specify. And truthfully? I didn’t much care about that.”

  “Well.” She cleared her throat. “She got the job description right. But at the moment you might say I’m temporarily at leisure. Examining my options. Choosing a new career path.”

  “Mmm. Downsized, right?”

  Her stomach muscles went rigid. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “Buddy of mine I fly with, his wife had the same thing happen to her. Seems she held a ‘nonessential position.’ Whatever the hell that means.”

  “It means get the hell out and take your nice severance package with you.” Chelsea nibbled on a piece of cheese. “I had a job with an advertising firm as a graphic artist. A damn good one, too.” She picked up a cracker and took a small bite. “It seems there aren’t a lot of agency openings right now.”

  “Maybe you really should examine your options,” he said. “What better time? Are you determined to stay in Tampa? Got family there?”

  She shook her head. “My folks live in Arizona in a great retirement community. My sister and her husband live in Colorado. So no,” she sighed. “I guess I’m really footloose and fancy free.”

  For a moment he said nothing. Then, “Maybe when we have breakfast in the morning, I can run a couple of ideas past you.”

  Translation: If we’re still good to go when the sun comes up maybe I have some ideas that would put you closer to me.

  Lordy, how I wish that would happen.

  “You know,” he went on, “the questionnaires we filled out for Madame Eve went into great detail on our likes and dislikes. But seeing things on paper is a lot different than talking about them. Making them personal. You know?”

  Personal? He wanted personal?

  “Okay.” She popped the rest of the cracker into her mouth. “Where do you want to start?”

  “Let’s see.” He scratched his jaw. “You go to the movies much?”

  She hitched her shoulders in a delicate shrug. “Not so much. I’d rather watch them at home, with my own popcorn and drinks. On a soft couch or in bed.” She smiled. “But so we set the record straight, I like a lot of movies besides chick flicks. How about sports? You into that?”

  “I’ll watch any football game, anywhere, any time.”

  “Really? Me, too.”

  “Oh!” He placed his hand on his chest. “Be still, my heart. The woman of my dreams.”

  She swallowed a laugh at the absurdity of the two of them naked in bed after sweaty monkey sex, drinking wine and eating cheese and crackers and having an almost normal conversation about what they liked and didn’t like. She supposed she shouldn’t be so surprised. Madame Eve’s questionnaire had been very extensive and detailed. Laura had been right on target. The woman really did work to find exact matches.

  Chelsea couldn’t remember ever feeling that relaxed, especially after sex. Usually she was still strung taut as a drum and wondering how soon she could get rid of the guy. Until tonight she’d been wondering if she had some flaw that could never be corrected. But again Laura hit the nail on the head. Up until then she’d had lousy taste in men. Alec Ramsey turned out to be a pleasant surprise.

  His warm, hard thigh rested against hers and pure pleasure shot through her. She slid her free hand beneath the sheet and stroked his skin. The light sprinkling of hair tickled her palm. She’d always loved a man with hair and Alec fulfilled all her fantasies. Her senses danced at the feel of it, from the thick hair on his chest, curly and soft, to the light dusting on his arms and legs to the thick growth at the root of his cock.

  As she lightly caressed his thigh, her knuckle brushed against his shaft, semi-hard again, and the top of his balls.

  “I’ll give you an hour to stop that,” he teased, the low tone and thickness of his words telling her how much her touch affected him.

  “And then what?” She grinned.

  “And then I might have to take some drastic measures.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

  He lifted the tray and leaned over to set it on the nightstand. Throwing the sheet back, he tugged her out of bed with him. She laughed when he swung her up into his arms.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “They have a shower in there that you won’t believe. I thought we’d try it out.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Love things that are slippery when wet.”

  Her laughter disappeared when he set her on her feet in the bathroom. She stared open-mouthed at the opulence of the room. He was right. Incredible described it accurately. A glass shower took up one com
plete wall and from what Chelsea could see, instead of the single showerhead, it had one for a rain shower plus jets set into the wall. A large Jacuzzi took up most of the opposite wall. On the steps up to it rested two thick towels and fluffy robes.

  “I have to say,” she said, “You weren’t joking about this. Holy cow! You must be paying a fortune for this suite. Now I feel guilty.”

  He slid a hand down her back and over her ass. “Actually, you feel good. Damn good.”

  “But—”

  He touched a finger to her lips. “Hush. Let’s just enjoy this.”

  She waited while he took the towels and hung them over wide towel bars and flicked a switch to warm them. Turning on the shower, he adjusted the heads until the spray became a fine mist. He took her hand and pulled her into the enormous enclosure with him. Curious, she touched a button on one of the tiles. It slid open and fragrant soap dispensed into her hand. She inhaled then started to lather her body but Alec stopped her.

  “I believe that’s my job.”

  Turning her around to face the shower wall, he began at her neck, massaging her muscles as he rubbed lather over her skin, moving his hands slowly down her back and her arms. The heady aroma of eucalyptus mingled with the mist to create an intoxicating environment. She closed her eyes and relaxed.

  Alec’s hands were like magic on her, carefully kneading her thighs and calves before moving back up to her ass. When his slick fingers sipped into the hot crevice between the globes, she pushed back against him. Her sleeping, temporarily satisfied hormones woke up with a surge, her pussy throbbing and her nipples aching. The tip of one finger pressed against the sensitive skin around her anus and she nearly collapsed from the pleasure.

  “You like that, sugar?” his voice sounded at her ear, his breath like a soft breeze, the timbre of his voice rich and deep. “Tell me.”