With me still inside her, she reaches over and turns on the faucet, catching water on her fingers and flicking it on her chest to cool her. She looks up at me. “Well, that was fun.”
“Give me ten and we’ll move to the wall.”
She sits up and I fall out of her. She carefully removes the condom, ties if off, and tosses it into the trash. Then she washes up, walks naked to the fridge, and opens it. “Think they have anything to eat here?”
I stare at her, bending over, ass to the world, and know I’ve died and this is heaven.
Three hours and as many orgasms later, she’s putting on her dress, not bothering with her bra, torn panties, or shoes. She grabs the bourbon and heads to the door. She lifts the bottle. “I’m taking this.”
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Her eyes narrow defensively. “We agreed this was a one-time thing.”
“I meant because I’m flying you to the airport.”
“Oh, right.” She relaxes. “See you then.”
She goes through the door, leaving in her wake the best night I’ve ever had in all of my twenty-six years.
Chapter Four
Amber
I stretch and peek at the clock. It’s almost noon. Twinges in my back remind me how sore I’m going to be after last night’s escapades. Quinn was fun; I get all the hype.
Rolling over, I stare at my suitcase in the corner. I have to meet him in a half hour for our departure. I should have set an alarm, because now, I don’t really have time for a shower. “I did take one last night,” I say out loud. I surmise that’s good enough and that I can sleep for another fifteen minutes.
Incessant thumping on my door awakens me. “Amber!”
I sit up quickly, rubbing my temples when they pound in defiance.
“Amber, you’re going to be late,” Quinn says from outside my door.
I pull the sheet around me and let him in. “Can you quiet down, please?”
“You were supposed to meet me downstairs fifteen minutes ago.”
“It’s not a big deal. You don’t have to be at the airport as early as they say. All I ever do is sit around.”
I drop the sheet and reach into my suitcase for a bra and panties. Then I pull on comfortable yoga pants and a cotton shirt. When I turn, Quinn is staring. And there’s a definite bulge in his pants. I nod to it. “Better remind that thing you’re a one-and-done kind of guy.”
“What the hell do you expect when you get naked in front of me? It’s not like I can control it, you know.”
I hurry to the bathroom, brush my hair and teeth, then gather my toiletries in my arms and walk out and throw them into my suitcase. I pick my dress up off the floor and stuff it in as well. Finally, I zip it, sling my purse over my shoulder, and stand by the door. “Well?”
“I’ve never seen a woman get ready so fast and still look…” He scrubs his jaw. “Forget it. We should go.” He takes my suitcase and we go downstairs. He leaves my bag at the door. “Wait here.” He trots to the kitchen and returns with a muffin, a cup of yogurt, a spoon, a bottle of water, and a paper bag presumably filled with snacks for him.
“Breakfast to go? You really didn’t need to go through all the trouble.”
He hands me the food. “Or just thank you will do.”
I chuckle. “Thanks. So how does this work? Is your helicopter right outside?”
“Did you hear a helicopter? No, it’s not here. I’ll take you to the airstrip in my truck. There’s a helipad there.”
He opens the door for me. I’ve only been here for twenty-four hours, but in that time, I’ve learned that southern guys open doors for women a lot more than the men in New York City do. Where I come from, just outside the city, is somewhere in between.
I pick at my muffin on the short ride over. When the helicopter comes into view, I find myself impressed. “It’s huge.”
He smirks. “That’s what she said.”
I hit his arm. “The helicopter, you brat. I expected something smaller.”
“It’s an Airbus H155. We bought it from Gavin McBride’s production company. Since he owns both that and the ranch, he sold it for a steal. She’s got a 533-mile range, a 41-foot rotor diameter, a max speed of 200 miles per hour, and her rate of climb is 1750 feet per minute.” He looks at it almost like how he was looking at my naked body last night. “Beautiful, huh?”
“I suppose if you’re going for the huge man-toys equals huge penis thing.”
He laughs. “You’re right. I should have gotten a bigger chopper.”
“You’re hopeless.” I roll my eyes.
He parks and gets my suitcase loaded. “Ever been up in one?”
“This will be my first time.”
He smiles. “It’s better than sex.”
I lift a brow.
“Okay, so maybe it’s not better than last night’s sex, but most sex.”
I try not to gloat. He’s right, though. It was pretty spectacular.
He hops in the back and extends a hand. “Come on in. I’ll get you situated.”
With his assistance, I climb up. The inside is nothing like what I expected. It looks like the back of a limousine. Plush white leather seats, two rows of six facing each other. Large windows on both sides promise one hell of a view. I peek over the front middle seats and into the cockpit, duly impressed that Quinn knows how to handle this thing with all the instruments and gadgets.
“Take your pick. Or you could sit in the front with me.”
My eyes snap to his. “Isn’t anyone else coming?”
“Nobody else was stupid enough to leave the day after a wedding. Don’t you have a hangover?”
“Nothing a little Advil won’t cure. And I’m good back here. I don’t trust myself not to touch something up there.”
His lips turn up into a grin as if he thinks that something is him.
“Then how about a seat by the window?”
I sit in the rightmost seat facing forward, and he buckles me in and tightens the strap. I can smell him. He took a shower.
He pulls a headset from above and puts it on me, then lifts one side off my ear. “To muffle the noise, and also so we can communicate. Is the fit okay?”
He hovers over me, and it reminds me of last night. I have flashbacks of him looking at me this way. In the kitchen. On the floor. In the mirror over the bathroom sink. “It’s fine.”
“Sit back and relax. The ride will take about twenty minutes.”
He settles the headset in place, and I give him a thumbs-up.
He disappears after closing me in, then the back of his head pops into my sight as he sits up front. He puts on his own headset, does things to some buttons and flips switches, and I can feel the helicopter come to life. It gets loud, and I can see the shadows of the whirling propellor thingies on the pavement. He turns slightly. His mouth is moving, but I don’t hear him.
“Quinn? I didn’t hear you.”
He glances back. “I wasn’t speaking to you. I was speaking to Ken, the flight controller, giving him my flight plan.”
“Helicopters have to do that?”