Chapter 2
The Mile High Club
Lindsay Mills
It wasn’t the craziest thing I’d ever done.
Or maybe it was.
Still, for better or worse, I was on a very luxurious private jet headed to Las Vegas for a night of fun with a man I’d just met. But I mean, come on, who wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity like this. And with the most gorgeous, handsome man you’d ever seen.
For the past three hours we’d been sitting across from each other in the midsection of the jet, talking like we’d known each other our whole lives.
There were a few lounging sections scattered around the jet and some other couples had occupied them. Our seats were isolated from the crowd, who were mostly congregating toward the front around the bar and TV area.
My chair was large and comfortable and with my shoes kicked off, my legs beneath me, I felt so at ease that I’d nearly forgotten we were midair. Sipping on my wine, I couldn’t help but stare at the man seated with his leg crossed over his knee, casual, comfortable, yet so powerful. There was another word that kept popping into my mind—beautiful. He was just so beautiful. It was in his eyes, the way they practically twinkled with each word that passed through his lips.
His fingers curled around the crystal of his whiskey glass. “Tell me more,” he insisted.
Everything about him screamed domination. If he were any other man I would have run, far and fast. But I felt this odd attraction toward him I couldn’t dispel.
I’d grown up with a mother who had habitually allowed domineering men into our lives. The way they would look at her like she was nothing more than a beautiful plaything for their gratification used to make me sick. The telltale sign was always in their eyes—eyes that bled greed, hunger, self-satisfaction.
Each boyfriend would use my mother up until he was finished with her and then toss what was left aside. Sometimes it was within mere weeks, sometimes months, and on one occasion it was years. But the end was always the same. They’d leave us, and it had become my job to pick up the pieces that were left of my mother and somehow glue them back together.
My childhood was exhausting and I wasn’t looking for a redo, in any way. I’d been cautious about the men I dated. Always opting for the tamer ones, the less demanding ones, the docile ones. As is in life, there was always a trade-off. With my choice of men came boredom. Every relationship I’d ever had lacked excitement. There was no thrill in the ride. I’d come to accept that. Like I said, I didn’t want to end up like my mother.
But James Greyson Ashton, as I’d come to learn was his full name, was different. He looked at me with eyes of adoration, eyes I couldn’t seem to turn away from. It was a look that drew me in from the moment our gazes first met. Made me want to get to know him. Even as crazy as it sounds, to obey him.
It would be one reckless night with a man who made me feel dizzy and more alive than I’d ever felt. A man who I still couldn’t believe I’d not only let touch me intimately within the first thirty minutes of meeting him but encouraged him to do so. A man who I wanted and was going to have before the night was through. There was no doubt about it.
Nervous for no reason at all, I shifted in my seat and dug my bare toes into the plush carpet. “There’s really not much more to tell.” I’d already told him more than I told most people. I’d not only told him the simple truths, like that I’d grown up in Los Angeles and that my mother was an actress who never seemed to land a role, but also the hard truths, like that I started modeling when I was sixteen so that we didn’t wind up living on the street. Not wanting to be sucked into the vortex of my past, I pushed all those bad times aside and tossed him a rueful smile. “Honestly, my life is pretty boring.”
His foot slid forward and nudged mine. “Come on, I doubt that’s true.”
I gave a small, shy laugh so very unlike me. “Being a model isn’t as exciting as everybody thinks. Sure, sometimes I get to travel to fun, exotic places, but more often than not there’s no time for exploring.”
“What about life outside of your job?”
“Sadly, it’s pretty much the same. I rarely go out. Tonight was an exception because it was my roommate’s birthday. Mostly I go to work and then go home. I’ve only lived in New York City for a year, so I still like to explore the city on my weekends and shop. That’s about it. Not much more to it.”
He set his drink down on the small table beside him, leaned forward, and in the huskiest, sexiest voice I’d ever heard, he asked, “So you’re a good girl?”
James was long and lean, and he had the most beautiful eyes that sparkled with flecks of silver in the light. He was wearing simple black slacks, tailored and fit perfectly to his narrow waist, and a white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with the first two buttons undone, exposing his smooth chest. His head had recently been shaved and was growing back, but I could tell he had light brown hair, possibly the color of caramel.
Everything about him made my pulse thunder, especially the way he spoke. Like the color of his hair, his voice oozed of soft, dripping caramel. Feeling a little naughty, I eased forward so our faces were less than a hand’s length apart. “I think we both know that’s not true,” I whispered seductively.
He smiled. It might be clichéd to say, but that smile took my breath away. His full, soft lips quirked up on one side and bled right into the lustful look in his eyes. A look that was languid—lazy, slow, knowing. Easing back in his chair, he used his finger to stir his drink and brought it to his mouth, inserting it, and then slowly pulling it out. It was the same finger that had been inside me just hours ago.
I blushed.
I never blushed.
“And you still taste so good.” His voice was slow and deep.
I blushed even harder with the heat rising up my throat.
“I want to do that again, and more.” This time when he spoke, all the humor was gone. A slow ache pulsed between my legs and I shifted in my seat. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
Shocked at his directness even though I shouldn’t have been, my gaze shifted to my surroundings, but no one was paying any attention to us. “What if I don’t—want you to fuck me?”
A smile, this time slow and easy, spread across his face. “Don’t play games, Lindsay. I know you do.”
“Do you?” I was being coy, flirtatious. It was fun.
His gaze traced my face as if he were studying me. Perhaps with uncertainty, but that only lasted for a moment. Then, in a low voice, he said, “Keep it up and I’ll take you right here. Or is that what you want? For me to throw you back on the seat and fuck you now?”
Overcome with desire, so turned on I couldn’t stand it, I submitted and said, “Yes, I want you to fuck me, but not out here.”
Gaze brighter, hungrier with my admission, he slowly eased forward and placed both his palms on my knees and let his thumbs slip under my hem. “Good. Then it’s settled. So we both want the same thing.”
“Yes,” I said, because it was all I could say with the blood rushing to my ears.
He swiped his thumb back and forth, and my skin tingled under his touch. Then he glanced at his watch. “We have more than two hours until we land, and then it will be another hour after that before we get to the hotel.”
I nodded in agreement.
When his fingers followed his thumbs under the hem of my skirt, he wrapped his hands around my bare thighs and pulled me closer to him.
My body jerked, as if it had been sleeping and he’d woken it up.
His breath, now deliciously whiskey-scented, washed over me. “Do you want to wait until I can get us a room?”
I shook my head. With each passing second I was getting wetter and wetter between my thighs. Desire had overtaken me long ago and over the past few hours every time I’d crossed and uncrossed my legs, even the slight friction of my panties against my clit was almost unbearable.
“Good,” he practically growled. “Go to the last door on the left toward the back of the jet. It should be unlocked—let yourself in.” The wetness of his tongue caressed my earlobe, making my nipples pebble and me shiver. When he pulled back and stood, his eyes met mine, and the look alone made me shiver again.
I gave him a nod to let him know I understood. There was just something about him. Something that made me want him so much. Made me want to do as he said. Made me want to please him. To be his. And it wasn’t the intoxication of alcohol. I was drunk—on him.
James pointed to his group of friends. “I’m going to grab another drink. Since you decided to misbehave, you’re going to go ahead of me. Once you get inside, get yourself naked and wait for me. Think about me. Think about how good I’m going to make you feel, but don’t touch yourself. Do you understand?”
My heart hammered in my chest. I wanted to say something, something flirty, something quick-witted, but the hoarseness of my voice wouldn’t allow for anything but another, “Yes.”
Turning, he walked toward the crowd. He could pretend he wanted to “punish” me, but I could see in his eyes he wanted to be certain this was what I wanted. He was giving me a choice. I could stay or I could go into the room and wait for the pleasure I knew he was going to bring me.
Standing on wobbly knees, I straightened my skirt and made certain my top was in place, and then I headed to the last door on the left. I passed two other doors on my way and wondered what they were. Bathrooms? Bedrooms? Where was I headed?
The beat of my pulse was loud in my ears. When I reached my destination, I slowly turned the handle and opened the door. The room was a private lounge decorated much like the rest of the plane, all whites and creams, with a leather bench-like sofa under a bank of three windows, a sink and small bar, and a large TV. It looked like a place to get away from the crowd and just chill out.
The sky was midnight black, and I could see nothing but the vast darkness. Crossing the small space, I stood in front of the sink and looked in the mirror. When I did, I saw the face of a woman who was about to enter the Mile High Club. James Ashton is going to come in here and fuck me. I bit my lip to make certain this was really happening.
Get naked, he’d commanded.
My pulse leaped. I wasn’t certain I could be that bold.
Time didn’t allow me to decide.
There was a click of a lock and then he was behind me in the mirror. He had an uncorked champagne bottle in one hand and two crystal flutes in the other. He moved closer to me and set the things in his hands on the counter, and then caged me in. His eyes met mine in the mirror, and his irises shone the most beautiful shade of milk chocolate. “Champagne?” he asked in a voice that bordered on concern.
Was he worried I had changed my mind?
I hadn’t.
“Yes, please,” I said, turning around.
He stayed where he was, so close to me he could lean in and kiss me.
He didn’t.
Each passing moment he didn’t touch me made me crazier with desire.
Forced to move in order to pour the champagne, he took a few steps to my left. And then he poured the bubbling liquid into the glasses and handed me one.
I took it with trembling fingers.
He clinked our glasses. “To meeting you.”
I swallowed at the sweetness of what he said, and then raising my glass I repeated what he’d said, “To meeting you.”
That smile was back.
I slowly sipped my drink and kept my eyes on him. I’d already had quite a bit to drink. If I drank much more, I might just pass out on him. Once I’d taken a few sips from my glass, I set it down and boldly took a step closer to him. “You got here too fast—I didn’t have enough time to prepare.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. That crowd out there is completely wasted and upset that I’m not. They said I have at least a dozen shots to catch up on, and when I tell you they’ll make sure I catch up, I mean it. So I ran, fast.” His grin was breathtaking.
I laughed. “Sounds like you’re going to be good and drunk before the night is over.”
“Not just me,” he warned. The room’s temperature seemed to rise a hundred degrees.
Without another word, he gazed at me with eyes I wanted to swim in. Men had always looked at me, but none ever like him. It was as though he wanted to see more than what was on the outside, that he wanted to know me from the inside out. A rush of euphoria raged through my veins as if I’d been waiting for someone like him my whole life.
Slowly, I pulled down the straps of my corset-like top and tugged my arms out of them before I lifted it from my body. I was completely bare beneath and my breasts were exposed instantly.
He hissed, but still said nothing as he watched me intently.
I proceeded to shimmy out of my skirt, letting it pool at my feet, and now stood before him in only my scant lace panties.
“You’re even more beautiful than I could have imagined,” he said, stepping toward me.
I reached for his buttons and quickly undid them, practically ripping his shirt off. He watched me with that same expression that made my heart flutter.
In the process, I somehow lost my footing, or maybe the plane hit some turbulence, and I almost fell right on top of him. “Oops,” I said. His look told me he liked me that way.
I had all kinds of thoughts about ridding him in that very position, but he quickly put me back on my feet.
With a shrug of my shoulders, I got to work on his belt and then his zipper. As I was tugging his slacks down, I glanced up to look at him. Fire blazed in his eyes and his cheeks were a bit flushed. The same desire I’d been feeling since we met was written all over his face.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing.
He stepped out of his slacks, but didn’t let me pull his boxer briefs down.
Yes, he was definitely in charge.
Not wasting any time, he reached for me, and I more than willingly went to him, taking that one remaining step between us. As soon as I did, his hands were on my hips and mine were around his neck. His mouth found mine already open for him and his body eased between my legs as if we were made for each other.
Butterflies like I’d never felt took flight in my belly as soon as his tongue slipped into my mouth. French kissing had never taken me to another dimension, but right now I had to wonder if I wasn’t in heaven as he kissed me fast. Kissed me slow. Kissed me breathless.
Eventually, we made it back to the sofa in a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing. James was only slightly taller than me but lying down next to him, he seemed so much taller.
The couch was wide, meant to double as a single bed, and had pillows against the jet wall instead of a sofa back. I found myself pressed against those pillows as James roamed my body, and tingles of pleasure erupted in every wake of his touch.
Attentive, his hands fondled my breasts, fingers dipped into my belly button, palms skimmed my ass, my thighs.
Wanting to explore his body as well, I leaned in to taste his skin. My lips skimmed down the hint of stubble on his jaw to his throat. I liked the way he tasted, like salt and something delicious. When I found the pulse in his neck, I lightly sucked it between my teeth.
In a wild rush, James ripped my panties away.
Moments later the heel of his palm pressed flat to my sex, causing my lips to part in a gasp, and this time I didn’t have to try to contain it. “James.”
“I like the way you say my name,” he murmured. His fingers teasing me, stroking me, sending all kinds of amazing sensations rippling through me body. “Say it again.”
“James,” I breathed.
I heard the smile in his voice. “Again,” he demanded as he plunged one, and then another finger deep inside me.
“James!” I almost screamed it as I found the most unexpected release.
The look on his face as he watched me come apart ignited something wild inside me. Still seeing stars, I reached for his boxers and pulled them down just enough so he could kick them off. I let my gaze wander to admire him, my hands following. My heart skipped a little when my fingertips traced down his erection and back up. His skin was so smooth, his cock so perfect. He groaned in such a way that I knew it was because of my touch, not just anyone’s touch.
After that, I let my hands move without thought, stroking up and back down. He was hard and hot, and my hands moved to the rhythm we seemed to have established as our own—not too fast, but not too slow. When my fingers closed around him, loosely at first, then more tightly, he made that sound again that set my blood on fire. I watched his eyes close and noticed his breath quicken. That’s when words flew from my mouth unlike anything I had ever said to a man. “You’re so beautiful.”
His eyes flew open and for a moment I wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but then he laughed from deep in his throat. “That’s my line,” he breathed and rolled us over.
“But you are—it’s in your eyes, the way you look at me like I’m the only one who exists in your world.”
He just kept gazing down at me with those eyes.
I writhed under him, impatient, wanting so much to feel him inside me. I’d craved human contact before, but never had I felt a primal need for a man to fuck me like I did now.
Hovering over me, he said, “Lindsay, I don’t know if you’re an angel or a devil, but I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”
My nails scraped down his back.
“Fuck,” he hissed.
With a grin, I said, “I’m neither, I’m just someone who really wants you too.”
In a flash, he reached for his wallet, retrieved a condom, tore it open, and rolled it on.
Just watching him had me biting down on my bottom lip so hard I almost drew blood.
Moments later, one palm landed on the mattress near my shoulder while he took his cock in the other hand to guide himself inside me. I closed my eyes as he eased in. The gasp that left me echoed throughout the room. As I stretched to accommodate him he teased me, pulling back out and reentering.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned.
Each time he entered me caused me to gasp. As he pushed farther into me, I inhaled a breath as more pangs of joy rippled through my body.
He filled me completely with his next movement. Overwhelmed with sensation after sensation, I let myself go and just allowed my body the indulgence of feeling whatever this was between us.
His mouth found mine and as he pushed into me over and over, I pushed my hips upward. His cock throbbed and my clit pulsed—again it was that same rhythm we seemed to create together. His movements became faster and my desire amped up. A euphoric feeling of pure sensation had my body shaking.
“Fuck, I’m going to come. You just feel too good. I can’t control myself,” he growled around our kiss.
Our lips crashed together at the same pace as our fucking—hard and fast, but then the plane started experiencing even more turbulence, and before we could both come, he was ass down on the floor.
I couldn’t help myself, I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.
James just shook his head. He really had to work on lightening up. In no time, he was on top of me once again. And then he was inside me. He grabbed my waist with one hand and my ass with the other and just like that, he was so deep inside me that pings of pleasure engulfed me and I wasn’t laughing anymore. I screamed out his name over and over. Bliss radiated in waves that rolled from one to the next.
James groaned my name as he came with me and together we rode out our need for satisfaction.
When both our breathing started to slow, he rolled over next to me and pulled me to his chest. I’m not sure how much time passed before either of us was able to move. But when he sat up he said, “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“Me either.” I sat up next to him.
He stroked his hand down my back. “What does it mean?”
He looked scared out of his mind.
Now, I was never the kind of girl to get stars in her eyes, but I swear my eyes had to be twinkling when I looked at him. “I don’t have any idea.”
Just then, the plane went through another pocket of turbulence, and this time we both jerked forward, and again, James landed on top of me.
That time he did laugh. “Well, I know that has to mean we need to do it again.”
He had a point. Either that or fate was trying to convince us to stop.
We both slid back onto the sofa, and James flopped onto his back.
I looked at him and ran a hand down the smooth skin of his chest. “At least one more time,” I said with a wink.
His lips fought not to smile and his arms wrapped around my waist. “You are definitely the devil,” he said seductively.
Looking out the window into the dark of the night, I said, “No, I think I’m the angel and you’re the devil.”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, baby.” It was as if he were reciting a line from a bad movie.
At that we both laughed until our mouths fused in such a way that we couldn’t laugh anymore. We spent another hour rolling around, exploring every part of each other’s body with only minor setbacks from turbulence pockets.
“Folks, we just began our descent into McCarran International Airport. The local time is twelve forty-nine a.m., light winds out of the south, and we’re looking at an easy landing. Buckle up. We should be on the ground in just a few minutes,” the pilot’s voice boomed overhead.
I was lying on top of James and pressed my hands on either side of his head. “City of Sin, here we come.”
He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back down. “We’re going to have an amazing time,” he cooed in my ear.
After what we’d just done, I didn’t doubt it.
Not for a second.