London
“Thank you, Norm.” I hand the folder to the managing director of our LA hospice. “Is there anything else you need from me?”
“That would be all, boss. Are you flying back to New York today?”
“Yes.” In my head, I’ve already drafted a to-do list for my flight home.
It’s been a few insane months, traveling around the country for work. I love the impact we have on communities and people at the end of their journey, but the stress keeps building up.
I should schedule a vacation. I add the idea to my never-ending list of tasks.
Norm walks me out of his office. We stop in the hallway and I indulge him in idle chitchat for a moment about his weekend plans. But I don’t hear half of what he’s saying because something distracts me.
We can’t see the reception area from here, but even without seeing him I know he is there. So strange. And highly improbable since Dominic is scouting new locations in Boston. And yet, the hair on my nape stands and I’m drawn to see who is waiting there.
I say my goodbyes and rush to the front. Giddy like a teenager. This is stupid. And as I round the corner, I realize just how stupid. The logic-defying connection I have with this man should concern me but it doesn’t. Not anymore.
He sits in the corner waiting area, but he might as well own the space. Well, he does, partially. In a navy suit, perusing some paperwork propped on one leg crossed over his knee, he’s so fucking handsome.
Since he hasn’t noticed me yet—I guess I’m the only one with Spidey senses in this relationship—I enjoy a moment just taking him in. Call me shallow, but damn, my man is hot.
“Like what you see?.” He smirks, his eyes still on the documents in front of him.
Of course, he sensed me or saw me. “What are you doing here?”
He looks up. Besides the receptionist, the place is practically empty, all the commotion happening silently in the corridors behind us. But we might as well be on a deserted island. Just me and him.
He languidly drags his gaze up my body. I swallow.
He licks his lips and closes his folder. I clench.
He unfolds himself from his seat, dropping the folder on the side table. I fist my hands.
He eats up the space between us, but doesn’t touch me. I’m marginally aware of my sped-up breathing. And my heart rate.
“Can’t I pick up my wife from work?”
“Flying from the other side of the country?”
“Across the world, if needed.” He winks. That fucking suave confidence in him is annoying. But so hot. I’m sweating and he hasn’t even touched my hand.
“That’s cheesy even for you, Cressard,” I quip. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“Let’s get out of here. I need to kiss you and the plane is waiting.” He grabs my hand. “Do you have everything?”
I hate being kept in the dark and he knows it. But damned if I’ll beg for an explanation. Besides, I need that kiss—and more—and I was the one who insisted on the professional, no affections rule at work. Stupid rule.
“I have everything. My carry-on is—”
The receptionist rolls it out from behind the counter, smiling.
“Thank you, Cecilia.” Dominic gives her a blinding smile and takes the handle from her. The girl turns crimson, gaping at him. “Have a lovely weekend. My wife and I have a plane to catch.”
“You just love saying that.” I shake my head and follow him outside.
In an ironic twist of fate, my maternal grandmother left me and my sisters an astronomical sum of money. The old lady—who we’d never met—conditioned the inheritance. In her traditional world views, she wanted her granddaughters married.
The money is helping to open new palliative care facilities across the country, so of course I dragged Cressard to the registrar’s office. If only I knew how it would inflate his ego.
“I do, indeed.”
I roll my eyes as he opens the door and helps me inside the waiting car.
“Keep rolling your eyes and I will mark you so there is no doubt you’re my wife,” he says as he settles beside me.
I chuckle. “There is no doubt. Relax and kiss me finally.”
***
The flight attendant greets us and I plop into the long seat along the windows. Dominic takes the sofa across the aisle and asks for sparkling water.
I pull out my phone, wanting to answer some emails, but the make-out session in the car fogged my brain. This man is robbing me of common sense. And thank god for that.
When I look up and he smiles at me, I want to drag him to the bedroom at the back right now. Fuck the safety take off procedures.
“How was Boston?” I ask to distract myself.
“Windy and rainy.” Dom loosens his tie and sheds his suit jacket. Those simple moves should be made into a feature film. It would break all the box office records and probably win him an Oscar.
“Is that the real reason you came to pick me up? To get some sun? What a waste, by the way.” I was so distracted by his hands and tongue in the car I forgot to investigate the actual reasons behind his surprise—however pleasant—appearance.
“Yes, the climate was my only determining factor.” He winks and that cocky grin melts my insides. Why did I ever hate that smirk in the past? “I missed you, wife.”
I roll my eyes. If I didn’t love him so much, this wife thing would piss me off.
“I said stop rolling your eyes.”
Oh, the threat in his voice is delicious, but then he changes into all business. “I think I found a suitable building and I interviewed potential staff for the foster care home.”
I smile at him, warmth spreading across my chest. This man has the same effect on me every single day. On my heart. And my panties.
I stand up and walk across the aisle. He pats the leather seat beside him.
I don’t take it. I straddle him.
A glimpse of surprise in his eyes is immediately followed by a dark twinkle. God, I love the reactions I can still draw from him.
“So you were interviewing the nannies, so to speak?” I wiggle my hips and he groans, his hands grabbing my waist. Bruising. Determined.
“Yes, I was.” He cups my nape and pulls me to his lips. It’s not a gentle kiss. Not a reverent one. It’s pure need and unadulterated want.
I moan. “I wonder what job description your nanny would have?”
“Those caregivers have full credentials, no worries, but if I were to interview you, I would need some hands-on proof of your qualifications.”
I squeeze the bulge between his thighs. “Hands on?” I breathe.
He groans again and yanks me closer to him, the friction sending delicious shivers up my spine.
“Yes, Chils, hands on, or your mouth would do. Or you can lower that pretty little cunt right on my cock. In any case, sweetheart, un-fucking-zip me finally.”
Forgetting how tired and stressed I’ve been, my entire body—and to my dismay, my mind too—craves him. My man. My husband.
Who knew granny dearest would force me to this level of commitment and… Well, I’m grateful.
I lower his zipper slowly, tracing his jaw with my lips. I’m not really kissing him, just taking my time to enjoy him. And waiting for my favorite sound ever. The sharp intake of breath that signals he is taking over.
His large hands roam over my back while I take my time hooking my fingers into the waistband of his briefs. I free his raging erection and… Fuck.
“Fasten your seatbelts, we’re ready for takeoff.” The pilot’s voice echoes through the cabin.
“Fuck,” I groan and start moving to sit beside him.
Dominic tightens his grip. “Not so fast, Chils. You stay right here, riding my cock.”
“But we are—”
“Shut up and do as you’re told.” He pulls the belt and wraps it around my ass before he buckles us together.
“This is against rules.” I’m not sure why I’m arguing the point. More to rile him up than really protesting the safety.
“You knew I was above the law when you first met me.”
“But it’s not safe.”
Finding the hem of my skirt, he glides his hand to my soaked panties in one smooth move and hums. “This feels like a more important emergency, sweetheart.”
He slides his thumb under the fabric, massaging the most sensitive spot with the precision and dedication of a man who knows every nerve ending in my body. I whimper and lower my head to his shoulder, grinding against his hand.
“Do you like this? You enjoy how I can make you feel so good with just my thumb?” He breathes into my ear, and goosebumps sprout all over my skin.
“Fishing for compliments?”
He chuckles.
“I definitely need a finger or two to fully enjoy,” I add.
“I thought this was a hands-on demonstration of your skills.” He traces his tongue around the deep V-neckline of my dress.
“Are you forgetful in your advanced age, darling? I was given a choice and I’m choosing your cock.” I push to my knees and Dominic smirks before ripping my panties off.
“Caveman.” I roll my eyes and gasp as his palm connects with my ass. It stings, the fabric of my summer dress not softening the blow.
“What did I tell you about rolling your eyes, wife?” He squeezes the back of my neck and claims my mouth, sucking, biting, invading in the most possessive way.
Why I always surrender to this man is beyond me. I guess when the reward fits.
Dominic aligns himself at my entrance and grabs my hips. “Does my wife want to make love? Or do you want me to fuck you?”
“Both.” I lower myself just one inch. And there it comes… He takes in the air sharply, hissing. He might have given me the options, but this show is his from now on. And so be it because I reap all the benefits.
“Greedy,” he growls and thrusts his hips while pulling me down and filling me to the hilt.
Even after all this time, it takes a few moves to get used to his size, but the friction melts everything and I grind my hips, moaning with the lust and desire this man elicits from me without even trying.
“Ride my cock, sweetheart.” He leans back and watches me passively before he, at the right moment, latches onto my breast, biting through the fabric.
“Dom—” How am I coming already?
“I know, Chils, I know.”
I explode around him and he takes over, bouncing me on him while I go rigid and then completely limp in his arms.
I hear some words coming from somewhere, but my brain is fogged.
“Finally,” Dominic rasps, unbuckles us and shoves me to the side. I guess the voice was the pilot announcing we’re in the air.
Dominic stands up. “Hands on the backrest, Chils.”
I fumble around, trying to orient myself in my daze. The bastard chuckles. Maneuvering me around, he places my hands on the back of the seat and kicks my knees open wider to get me into the position that suits him and thrusts inside me again.
“I’m sorry, Chils, but I missed this pretty little pussy too much, so love making is off the table at the moment.” His breath is labored.
“Stop the chitchat, Cressard, and fuck me hard.”
He leans in and kisses my shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask.” I can feel his smirk.
I want to retort, but he starts moving and sets such a punishing tempo that I almost plunge face first into the window in front of me.
I grip the seat and let him ravish my body and take what he needs. Because it’s the same thing I need. It has always been.
***
“My wife needs at least a liter of water,” Dominic announces to the flustered flight attendant.
I couldn’t keep quiet earlier, but she has flown with us before, so I’m hoping she’s been using the noise canceling headset Dominic gave her. I hope he pays her enough. Poor woman.
“Are you hungry?” He turns to me. I sit beside him on the sofa, my legs still shaky, his cum dripping down my thighs. Fuck, I need a shower and new underwear.
“I can ask for food when I need it,” I say annoyed. “And stop with the wife. You know this is a fake marriage.”
He cocks his eyebrow. “Sure, Chils, whatever you need to tell yourself. Just like our dating was fake.”
I sigh. “You know what I mean.”
“Nothing about my feelings for you is fake, woman.”
I crawl closer to him. “I know, baby.” His jaw ticks. Why do I always need to fight for my independence? In the stupidest ways. I am fucking married to him.
With my palm on his cheek, I force him to look at me. “Dominic Cressard, I love you. I love you more than anyone and anything in my life. You’re my partner. For better or worse. You’re my husband.” I kiss his forehead.
“And, you are…” He wiggles his eyebrows.
If I was keeping a tally, I’d be pissed at how many times he wins every argument. Fucking lawyers. I purse my lips, but then I smile. “I’m your wife.”
He grins. “That you are.” He kisses me and the flight attendant clears her throat and places a tray with water and snacks on the table.
“Thank you, Emily.” I stand up. “I better get changed because I will freeze in this summer dress when we land.”
“If you need anything, you know where to find me.” Emily can’t get out of here fast enough.
Dominic pulls me to his lap. “You won’t freeze and this summer dress is perfect for our destination.”
I frown. “What do you mean? It’s like fifty degrees in New York.”
“That might be so, but we, dear wife, are flying to Hawaii.” He grins like he’s just announced world peace.
“Whatever for?”
“Honeymoon,” he says with a casual shrug.
I stare at him. Because what other reaction is there to such a preposterous suggestion? Not only do we have a lot of work to do in New York, Chicago and Boston, but we didn’t even have a real wedding. And the city hall formality we executed a few months ago certainly doesn’t require a follow-up in the form of honeymoon.
Dominic flips me to my back and covers me with his body. Thank god for large sofas on this plane. Though at this rate we might need to reupholster.
I can’t breathe under his weight and I would enjoy it if my brain wasn’t spinning.
He cups my face. “We’ve been working hard and I cleared our schedules for a week, so we can finally enjoy our honeymoon.”
Cleared schedule. Sunny destination. I don’t have to call it a honeymoon. I smile at him. “I love you.”
He kisses me. “Liking the surprise?”
“Fishing for compliments again?” I bite my lip. “Yes, I love it. What’s on the schedule? What are we doing there?”
Excitement rolls through me. I used to love my crazy adventures when I was alone, but they are so much better now when I travel with Dominic.
“Honeymooning.”
“Okay, okay, but what adventures did you book?”
He chuckles. “None.”
I study him for a moment, but he seems serious. “But what are we going to do for a week?”
“Fuck.”
“But we always—”
He covers my mouth with his palm. “Exactly, Chils, we always chase adrenaline when we travel and it’s fun. But this time, we both need to decompress and relax. Do nothing.”
“I can’t do nothing.”
“I know, sweetheart, and that’s why there’s a lot of fucking and sleeping on the schedule.”
I would protest the itinerary full-heartedly if I wasn’t loving the idea of vacation so much. I just thought about it mere hours ago and he delivered. Knowing what I need. What we need.
But do I need to lie around? That’s not my idea of relaxing.
“I don’t think I’ll survive that,” I groan. I mean a week of sex isn’t the worst proposition, but are we ready to stay in twenty-four seven for an entire week? We may kill each other.
“I’ll keep you hydrated and provide an endless supply of orgasms. If you don’t survive, it’ll be a great way to go.”
I burst out, laughing. “Idiot.”
“Just picture it, sweetheart. Your husband for breakfast, lunch and dinner and all the snacks in between. Coming on my tongue…” He kisses my lips. “My fingers…” He bites my earlobe. “My cock.” He cups my breast. “And then repeat.”
I grin, grinding myself against him shamelessly. “Now when you describe it like that, I think this will be the best vacation ever.”
He jumps up and pulls me with him, dragging me to his lap. “Ladies and gentleman, she finally acquiesces.” He holds me tighter. “I love you. Nothing compares to what I found in you.”
Suddenly, the mood is heavy. Electric, but so honest, it scares me. Even after all this time with him, the closeness frightens me at times. “Let’s not forget I was the one who sought you out.” I try to lighten the mood.
He snorts. “To fake date me. I was the one who saw the potential in this relationship. I loved you from the first moment you flipped me off when we met.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Okay, maybe not from that moment, but I loved you first.” He tucks a strand behind my ear.
I nod, falling just a little harder for him. “That’s true and I will forever regret that.”
He jerks his head back. “Regret?”
I cup his beautiful face. “I will forever regret resisting for as long as I did. It was a waste of time. I love you, husband.”