Jericho ~ Present
“NO WAY! YOU CANNOT BE serious! This is the best day ever!”
Those were the phrases Jackson had been saying since we left town and found out that we weren’t doing the guy’s trip to Vegas, but the group literary trip.
The luxury van I’d booked was a smooth and comfortable ride. We’d taken turns driving, and Ty was now at the wheel. Jackson, Millie, Rob, and Dru were all sitting at the small table, playing cards as we cruised down the highway, while Natasha and I were laying on the bed in the back.
Fully clothed.
“Don’t do anything freaky while you’re five feet away from us,” was what Dru had said when I’d led Natasha to the back a few moments ago.
I was no exhibitionist, so they really needn’t worry, but Natasha had blushed just the same.
“Did I already mention how unbelievably sweet all of this was?” Natasha asked softly. We were both laying on our backs, staring out through the skylight, holding hands.
“Uh, yeah, about fifty times,” I replied with a chuckle.
I was pleased she thought it was sweet, but I really didn’t want anyone making a big deal out of it. Money was something I had plenty of, friends and family were not. I would have flown us all there in a private plane if necessary, but so far, I was really enjoying the road trip.
“Well, make it fifty-one,” she said, turning her head toward me.
I shifted so I was looking at her as well, and said, “Noted.”
“Are you excited about the trip?” Natasha asked.
“I’m excited to spend time with you.”
She flushed prettily. “What about the museum, the fancy inn, and the book signing?”
I shrugged. “I’ll get a kick out of watching Jackson, but I still don’t even know who Nora Roberts is.”
“She’s a writer,” Natasha began, a mocking smile on her lips. I didn’t care if she was mocking me, I just liked the way she was looking at me. “She’s written, like, a million books. Everything from contemporary romance, to fantasy, to romantic suspense, and she has a cool futuristic cop series under a pen name.”
“So, she writes books, and opened a hotel and a bookstore?”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. She even wrote it all into one of her series. The inn has different themed rooms based on the greatest literary couples. Jackson’s not the only one who’s going to be excited about that. Plus, I’ve always wanted to go to a real book signing.”
“Hmmm, I didn’t realize you’d enjoy this so much.”
“Well, you don’t know everything about me,” Natasha mused, and I realized she was right, and that I was looking forward to learning these new facets of her, and all of the ways she’d changed since college.
“Yeah? Well, you don’t know everything about me either,” I countered playfully.
“Oh, really?” she asked. “What surprises do you have in store for me?”
“For one,” I whispered, “there’s the way I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“What do you think about?”
“The things I want to do to you.”
Her breath hitched.
“What things?”
I lifted my hand from hers to trace the swell of her lips.
“There’s the way I want to taste you,” I began, my voice low so only she could hear me. “Not here, but all over your body.”
Her pupils dilated and she brushed her tongue across my thumb as she wet her lips.
“Where?” she asked, her tone rough with desire.
I kept my hands where they were, not wanting to make everyone else suspicious about our conversation, but raked my eyes down her body.
“First I’d kiss that spot where you neck meets your shoulder. Lick it. Suck it. Then, I’d move down to your breasts, where your nipples are puckered, waiting, eager for the heat of my mouth. I’d spend a great deal of time there, loving first one breast, then the other. Taking your nipples between my lips. Between my teeth.”
Natasha gasped and shifted on the bed.
“I’d lick a trail down your stomach, over your hips, until I reached the place where you’re aching for me right now. You are aching for me, aren’t you, Natasha?”
“Yes,” she practically moaned, the sound making me shift on the bed as well.
“Then, I’d place my mouth . . .”
“Oh my God, we’re here!” Jackson shouted, and I didn’t bother biting back my groan as he jumped up out of his seat. “The Emily Dickinson Museum!”
I shifted my gaze to Natasha, then grinned when I saw her glaring back at me.
“I’m going to kill you for this,” she whispered.
I chuckled and said, “I look forward to it,” then stood up and offered her my hand.
She reluctantly gave it to me. I helped her to her feet and we followed the rest of the group off of the van.
“Hey,” Dru said, coming up to us and throwing her arm around Natasha’s shoulder. “I said no freaky business on the bus.”
Dru looked pointedly at Natasha’s flushed cheeks, then back at me and gave me a glare identical to the one Natasha was still giving me.
“What?” I asked, holding up my hands in surrender. “I didn’t touch her . . . promise.”
With that said, I shot them a wink and a grin, tipped my imaginary hat, and sauntered off to watch Jackson geek out over the Emily Dickinson Museum.