Chapter 8
Dillon
“What are you doing with your hands?”
I pick up my hands and look at them. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Emmet rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. I think I like his shirt better than mine. When he crosses his arms it opens at the collar, showing off his pecs. My shirt is not showing off my pecs. Goddamnit. Next time.
“You’re doing something weird with your hands.”
“I’m not doing anything weird with my hands. You’re imagining things.”
“Well, you’re pacing,” he scolds me.
“I'm not pacing,” I reply, forcing my feet to stop moving and stuffing my hands into my pockets. “It’s just that she's late, is all.”
“Who gives a fuck if she's late?” he rolls his eyes. “It's not like we’re going to leave without her.”
I just take a deep breath and squint down the long walkway. Tourists and business people brush past each other without even looking, hundreds of them. Maybe a thousand, even. It's one of the prime times of the day, when people who actually work on Navy Pier collide with people who came here to gawk at it. To ride the Ferris Wheel. To go through the museum.
Frankly, it's a stupid place for a helipad. I like the one on top of our building, of course. That’s where Emmet wanted to go, but I wanted to make sure they were seen, as per the agreement. If it were up to him, they’d just spend every moment alone, maybe take off to the desert. I need to keep them on track. If this works, it’s best for all of us. He should get that through his thick skull.
So here we all are, almost being seen. Actually, nobody could see us unless they look up since the helipad is on a raised platform surrounded by shrubs and trees and vines and shit. The curving stairway that leads up here is almost hidden. You would have to know it was here to even find it.
An unfamiliar heart-shaped face pops up ten feet below me, then tips to the side. I look at it curiously, wondering how she got there.
“Hello?” she smiles, tucking a long, straw-colored strand of hair behind her ear. “Can you throw down a ladder for me or something? Is there some kind of pirate secret code or something?”
“This is a private area,” I answer, scowling and shading my eyes with my hand. Her face disappears, reappearing moments later at the bottom of the staircase.
“Well, yeah, that's the idea,” she remarks as she climbs the stairs, shouldering her heavy bag behind her. “I guess that's how I got the exclusive.”
“Oh, okay… and you’re from?”
“HuffPo, usually,” she shrugs, flicking a business card between her fingers like it is some kind of magic trick. She pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head, revealing pretty green eyes and a pert, freckled nose.
“Yeah, okay. HuffPo. Come on up, I guess,” I shrug, standing aside. Necessary evil.
She mounts the last few steps and looks around, pushing her chin out and nodding appreciatively at the helicopter, the waiting pilot, and Emmet who's leaning nonchalantly against a post over there. That's one of his favorite poses. He thinks people think it looks natural. It does not look natural at all.
I look down at the card in my hand. Melody Parker. That’s a good name for a writer, I suppose.
“So, when is she getting here? The mystery lady?” she asks, slowly looking away from Emmet’s ridiculous posturing.
“Any moment, I guess,” I answer, irritation creeping into my voice. Now it looks somewhat humiliating, like some broad is making us wait. Which is true, but I certainly don't want it to look that way. “I think she had to take a quick meeting with Oprah or something,” I add, trying to cover quickly.
Melody quirks one eyebrow at me. “Oprah is back in town? She was just in Monaco yesterday, I think. You sure?”
“Monaco? Yeah, well,” I grumble, looking away and feeling stupid in a way that's about to make me angry. “Well I guess she… oh, here she is now.”
Melody steps back, her eyes growing wide. “Bella?” she gasps, automatically walking forward with her arms out. Bella takes her in a quick, friendly hug that people use when they already know each other, but not well enough to go on a vacation together. The business casual friend.
“Melody!” Bella coos, tossing her hair over one shoulder.
I wonder if she practiced that. It really does look stunning with her thick, mahogany hair fanning out behind her, just this side of a slow-motion glamour shot. I'm totally impressed.
“Well this is a surprise!” Melody exclaims, barely concealing the bitter envy in her voice. “Hannah ordered me to rush right over here to catch the scoop, but I never expected, um, you!”
Bella just smiles, dazzling her with a blinding flash of white teeth. She doesn't say anything, and I'm even more impressed. Melody’s sideswipe insult would've put most people off their game entirely, but Bella is going to let her smile do the work.
Wow. I kind of want to cheer.
“So, um… well, can I ask a few questions?” Melody babbles, her frustration clear. She whips out her phone and holds it up, using it as a recording device.
Instead of answering, Bella tips her head to the side, looking over Melody’s shoulder. She lifts her hand and waves her fingertips, sucking in her breath and holding it in a completely convincing schoolgirl crush kind of way.
“Oh, excuse me, won't you please?” she mutters breathlessly as she completely steps around Melody and begins walking across the yellow painted concrete of the helipad. Emmet leaves his pose and walks toward her, arms out. His smile is charming and camera ready.
“Well, shit,” I hear Melody mutter under her breath as Emmet and Bella fall together, kissing slowly and tenderly as though joyfully reuniting.
Frankly, this act is getting on my nerves more than a little bit. But I can’t look away either. I imagine myself as Emmet, kissing those sweet lips and remembering her hungry mouth against mine at the restaurant. Remembering my tongue inside her, surrounded by Chanel No. 5. She’s so pure. I’ve never met anyone like her.
Melody casts her eyes to me sidelong. “So, I guess I will just ask you. How long have they been dating?”
I put on a pair of sunglasses just in case anything shows on my face. Despite being a bit of a Romeo, I have never been a good liar. Not much practice, as I don’t have to lie. I’m Dillon fucking Riordan, for chrissakes.
But also, I can’t stop watching them cuddle and kiss, and Melody doesn’t need to see that. I remember Bella’s taste precisely… that sweet, spicy nectar. I should be over there, kissing her too. Not talking to whoever the fuck this is.
“Oh, this has been going on for a few weeks. I can’t believe they kept it quiet this long, can you?” I say, congratulating myself on my apparent authenticity.
“Well, I guess that is quite a scoop then!” Melody shrugs, probably weighing her jealousy against the value of the information she has just been given. Just like clockwork, her greed wins out.
“And do you approve, Dillon? I know you like to keep… very close tabs on your brother’s relationships…”
She steps closer to me, angling the phone toward my face. As I watch, she draws her lower lip between her teeth, wetting it with the back of her tongue.
“Bella's really been good for him,” I nod, very nearly adhering to the truth. “You might say he’s a changed man. I've never seen him so serious about someone so fast. It's almost boring, if I’m telling you the truth.”
“Ha!” she laughs, tipping her head back and baring full rows of even, white teeth. “Oh, come on, you Riordan boys could never be boring. I'm sure there's something absolutely wicked about those two, right? He can't be going totally goody-goody, honestly, can he?”
I shrug. I look away wistfully, letting her think that I'm sorry that our Playboy days are almost behind us now. “You will have to ask him, I’m afraid.”
“Yes,” she says, almost to herself. “I suppose I will have to do that.”
Suddenly, the rotors start up. Though we are outside of the immediate zone of the helicopter, the noise is deafening along with a substantial amount of wind. Melody’s skirt flies open, revealing long, toned legs and very pretty knees that she presses together protectively. For just a moment, a flash of Bella's knees jolts through my brain again. Those creamy thighs. That Chanel.
What is wrong with me?
“I guess that's my cue!” I shout, leaning closer so she can hear me over the sound of the helicopter.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Emmet gesturing wildly over his head. The sun is going down and now is the perfect time for us to start our tour.
“I'm coming with you!” she shouts back, beginning to lean away. I catch her the by the crook of her arm and shake my head, no.
“What? No! Sorry!”
“Yes!” she shouts back, twisting away from me momentarily, then back toward me. She looks up into my eyes again, seriously trying to ignite a connection here. Even if I wanted to, there's nothing there. I’m preoccupied. She’s beautiful, granted, but… nothing is happening.
“I was promised a story!” she reminds me. She's trying to smile, wheedle her way in, but the expression is just a little bit too desperate. “And you don’t want to be a third wheel, do you? Let’s double date, Dillon! Live a little!”
Gently, I pry her fingers off my arm and step away with my palm up, stop. Then I move my lips, saying nothing, hoping she thinks that the helicopter noises are just drowning me out. I've got nothing to say to her, but I salute her with a smile, betting that she'll just go ahead and make up whatever the hell story she wants.
Then I turn my back to her and jog toward the open door of the helicopter, leaping in and sliding it closed behind me. Melody’s expression of disappointment and anger looms as she yanks her skirt down to her knees and slides her sunglasses back down over her nose. She gives us a grudging wave as the helicopter tips forward and lifts straight up off the ground. In seconds, she’s disappeared.
Before I put my headphones on, I turn toward Bella. She's already got the headset on and raises her eyebrows at me questioningly. Without saying a word, I reach out and slide my fingers under her chin, behind her neck, and draw her to me. Her lips are welcoming and pliant, warm and open. She kisses me with a sigh, as if she's been waiting for this as long as I have.
It’s a surprise. A welcome one. After watching her flip through a virtual rolodex of personalities, I wasn’t sure which Bella I was going to get today. But she seems committed to the role now. At least until the merger, I suppose.
Just to test the theory, I kiss her again. Every time our lips meet, I feel an almost electric shock, like a connection. When we separate, I miss it. I have to try again.
As we reach touring altitude, I continue to taste her, sliding my tongue along her teeth, feeling her tongue dance around mine, darting, swirling. I can't believe I waited two days for this. I'm suddenly so hungry for her. My body is taut and humming as though electrified. I feel her fingers slide up my thigh and rest heavily on my hard, pulsing cock.
Then she draws away shyly, blinking and smiling at me. She reaches for the other headset and hands it to me. Disappointed, I fit it over my ears. The cabin is suddenly silent.
“Private channel please, Chad,” I hear Emmet's voice immediately. The pilot flashes us the okay sign and flips a switch over his head. Now only the three of us can talk to and hear each other in the headsets.
“Have you ever fucked in a helicopter before?” I ask immediately, watching her eyes in response. She doesn't even flinch, but goes for a playful squint. She smiles broadly and her tongue presses against her upper teeth in an inviting tease.
“Let's save that for the honeymoon, shall we, boys?” she shoots back, shifting primly in her seat and drawing her skirt slowly but firmly down over her knees. Her fingers press against her thighs protectively, letting me know it will be just a little bit more difficult than that.
“Oh, smooth move, Dillon,” Emmet scoffs.
“What? It’s a fair question! People who have had sex in a helicopter, please raise your hands!”
“You said this was a tour,” she sniffs, looking out the window, leaning over me. I can smell her perfume and see the curve of her breast through the plunging neckline of her wrap dress. She must know she’s doing this to me, right? But it’s impossible to tell. Every time I imagine that I know what she’s thinking, she turns into someone else. A new Bella, every minute.
“So tour me,” she dares me with a grin. So far it looks like I’m getting confident, assertive Bella. She’s hot as hell. I’m happy with that. I would like to take another tour of her body.
“Chad does the tour,” I inform her, clearing my throat, “on this channel, we won't be able to hear him.”
She shrugs, drawing back and looking me right in the eye. As she leans back into her seat, her nipples brush against the front of my shirt, igniting my skin all at once. Fuck.
“Then change the channel back. I want to hear the tour.”
“Then you won’t be able to hear us,” I protest.
She leans very close to me, sticking out just the tip of her tongue and running it over my top lip. It's everything I can do to keep from tearing her clothes off right this minute.
“Then you'll have to keep very quiet,” she whispers, her voice barely coming through the headphones.
Emmet leans forward and catches my eye. He shrugs. “Best to do as she says, I think,” he smiles at me.
Begrudgingly, I lean forward and tap Chad on the shoulder, pointing at the channel switch in the ceiling. He nods his understanding and flips it back on.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” comes his voice through the snug earphones. The noise reduction is so good, it sounds like he's whispering right in our ears. “Just sit back and relax. We’re going to cruise up and down the Chicago lakefront, and I'll be pointing out some of the more interesting architectural and historical highlights.”
“That sounds wonderful, Chad,” Bella breathes, as she gazes up into my eyes. A playful smile curls the corners of her full lips as she draws her skirt up, grasping my hand and guiding it between her warm thighs. As soon as I touch the damp crotch of her silky panties, she closes her eyes and tips her head back, succumbing to the roaring vibrations of the helicopter motors.
Confident, assertive Bella for the win.
“Just now we're leaving airspace of Navy Pier. Below us you can see the famous Ferris Wheel. It is a nod to the original Ferris Wheel that was introduced publicly in the world's fair, held here in Chicago in 1893.”
Emmet reaches around and unties the fabric strap at her waist, pulling her dress open to reveal her smooth, curvy form. I slide my fingers under the thin band of elastic at her thigh, finding her already slippery and hot to the touch.
Just as I find her, she reaches out, stroking my cock through my trousers. With my other hand, I free myself and her fingers instantly curl around me, grasping me tightly.
“Lake Shore Drive is famous for its magnificent views, and is commonly referred to as the Magnificent Mile. Many of the apartment buildings that you see here are being converted to condominiums. Just below us, you can see the famous Lincoln Park Zoo, where children and adults have been enjoying such attractions as Farm-in-the-Zoo, where you can watch the baby chickens hatch.”
Just before I close my eyes, I noticed that she's reached out with her other hand to grasp Emmet's cock too. Slowly she begins to stroke us both, pistoning both of our erections simultaneously as my middle finger swoops deeper and deeper against her furrow.
“If you look just over to the left now, you can see the flags atop famous Wrigley Field. They're flying the W. Looks like the Cubs won today.”
She is so wet, I can almost hear the sound as my middle and ring fingers strum quickly against her clit. Her cheeks are red, her head thrown back with abandon. Relentlessly she pumps my cock, eagerly drawing Emmet and I to climax.
“Here's the border of Chicago, folks, and Evanston just beyond. I'm going to do a little bank turn here, get us going back southward again. Hold on, this turn might feel a little steep.”
The helicopter banks hard to the right, thrusting all three of us against the plush bench. It crushes the air from our lungs, leaving us breathless and dizzy. Bella claps her thighs around my hand and arches her back, her mouth open in a silent cry, and suddenly I'm coming too, exploding from within, lost in a volcanic eruption, blinded.
“Thanks for bearing with me, folks,” Chad says in his practiced, smooth way. “Just going to hit the gas here and take us swiftly back toward downtown, check out what the south side is up to right now.”
Slowly I open my eyes, gradually taking in the details. The setting sun, the lights of downtown coming up. The Hancock Building is all alight, and I even make out a few dozen sailboats on the water. It’s a beautiful night, and we hang high above it, breathless and exultant.
We are together, one in pleasure and abundant beauty.