Lessons in Gravity (Study Abroad #2) (34 page)

“I know I’ve said this before, mujer, but truly, you’ve chosen a brilliant topic. I never would’ve thought of the ‘celebrations’ angle, even though it’s right there in your face. I mean, Mass was celebrated in the church for centuries.”

“And now we used the church to celebrate Thanksgiving.” I smile.

“That was a good day.”

“A very good day.”

Not only was it the day Javier and I got together; it was also the day I was finally able to pick a topic for my thesis. Seeing the joy of everyone gathered there in the church—hearing the swell of the music around us—brought me back to the very fundamentals of architecture. I understood for the first time what the church, and the monastery in general, were all about.

They were spaces for celebration. Celebration of the Mass; celebration of hope, of community, of music, of belief. Celebration of
belonging
, whether it was belonging to a religious order or belonging to the passionate fandom of flamenco music.

I celebrated finding my own belonging in that church. And I decided that day that I would write my thesis on how the church’s architecture—its layout, its acoustics, its art—fostered the sense of joy and completeness I felt there, surrounded by my friends and my music.

It’s a Saturday, and the weather is crisp and clear, so El Aeropuerto de Cuatro Vientos is bustling. Javier guides us past several planes being serviced; there are people everywhere, running across the wide swath of tire-scarred pavement.

At last we pull into a spot outside a massive hangar. Several larger planes—posh private jets, as Javier calls them—surround us. I wonder what Spanish celebrities they belong to. Movie stars? Footballers? The King and Queen?

When we’re ready to leave—tonight we have plans to open a bottle of red wine, make paella, and watch
The Holiday
at Javier’s place (I mean, best night ever, amirite?)—I turn to open my door, but Javier puts a hand on my thigh and gives it a squeeze.

“Everything all right?” I ask.

His light brown eyes dance. “How about you lose gravity one more time?”

“Here?” I look out the windshield. There are still guys everywhere—maintenance crews, pilots in uniform, men who drive the fuel trucks—some of them only a few feet away.

They’ll be able to see everything. If, of course, they know where to look.

“We’ll be caught,” I say. “They’ll call the cops on us—”

My voice catches when Javier unzips my fly, one swift, sure tug.

“Trust me,” he murmurs, working the button through its hole. “I’ll make it worth the risk.”

“But,” I say, even as I lift my hips so he can pull my jeans—and my underwear—over my hips. Heat spikes through my center. “But Javier, we can’t—we shouldn’t, what if they see my o-face and it scars them for life?”

“You o-face is marvelous, guapa,” he replies. “In fact, I’d very much like to see it right now.”

The leather seat is cool against my naked backside. Javier pulls my jeans over my knees, then hooks the back of my right knee in his fingers and tugs it away from the left. I’m practically spread-eagled now.

Spread-eagled and super turned on.

“Trust me,” he says.

And I do. I don’t think. I don’t hesitate.

I let him duck his head and slide his fingers into my pussy, holding it open, and then his mouth is on me and my eyes flutter shut and the back of my head hits the headrest, and I am seeing stars, I am on the brink of an orgasm in two seconds flat.

Mile high head—I mean, we’re not technically in the air, but we are on a plane, and that’s got to count for something, right?—is the best.thing.ever.

I dig my fingers into his hair as he eats me out, his lips on my clit as his fingers slip inside me, stretching me, making me want to come. The idea that we could be caught—that there are people just outside my door—only adds to the excitement, the urgency I feel to let go.

My hips buck against Javier’s mouth, rolling in time to his strokes. I pull his hair, I gasp as the coil between my legs winds tighter; I feel him smiling against me, caressing me with his tongue and hands and lips.

I open my eyes and watch him move between my legs, loving me like I’ve never been loved. Making me feel wonderful, terrifying, happy things.

Yes.
I am so glad I said yes to this, to him, to myself.

“I’m almost”—I gasp—“I’m almost there, Javi.”

“Dios mio, mujer
,
already?” he murmurs, his voice vibrating through my folds.

“You’re”—another gasp—“you’re really good at this. Like. Really good.”

He licks my clit.

I come, a thunderous, searing orgasm that has me breathing his name, over and over, my legs shaking as Javier continues to lap at my pussy, soothing it, stoking it, making me want to laugh it feels so good.

He looks up from between my thighs. “So. Losing gravity. Do you like it?”

“I do, very much.” I reach for his fly, grinning when I feel a familiar bulge in his jeans. “I like it so much that I’m willing to return the favor.”

***

Javier

It’s dark by the time we’re finished. I help Maddie step down from the plane. She weaves a bit on her feet; no doubt her legs, like mine, are a bit unsteady after that impromptu marathon we just had.

It really was a miracle no one caught us. A couple times I thought for sure the ground crews saw us, but they all continued about their business as Maddie came in my mouth and I came in hers.

I drape my arm across her shoulders, caressing the back of her neck with my thumb; she bends her elbows and wraps her hands around my arm, and together we walk slowly toward the parking lot, our breath puffing out around us in the chill night air.

Maddie looks up at the sky—it’s clear, and strewn with a thousand stars—and sighs.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” I say.

“Yes,” she says. She bumps me with her hip. “Javi, I’m so happy. I love today. I love you.”

I press a kiss into the top of her head. “I love you. So tell me more about this Holiday movie—”

We draw up short at the sound of voices.

Familiar voices, followed by hurried footsteps.

I glance toward the bigger planes—the private jets—and see a couple making their way toward the poshest jet at the airport.

I recognize the guy—he’s tall, with a knot of hair at the crown of his head—it’s Rhys Maddox. He’s carrying a bright pink suitcase. A girl’s suitcase.

Maddie must recognize Laura at the same time, because she shouts, “Hey! Laura! What the hell are you doing here?”

Halfway up the stairs to the plane, Laura turns, smiling. “We’re headed to London for a few days.”

“London?” Maddie looks at me. “That sounds…serious.”

Rhys grabs Laura’s hand. “She’s my good luck charm. Can’t go anywhere without her.”

Laura rolls her eyes. “Rhys is convinced the only reason he’s having such an awesome year is because he met me.”

“It’s true,” Rhys says.

“It’s not,” Laura says.

“Sounds like you two need to go have a ‘talk’,” Maddie says, curling her fingers into air quotes. “Do the pilots still close the cockpit door on private jets? You know, so you can have a little privacy?”

Rhys smiles. “They most certainly do.”

“Rhys,” Laura says, and the way she says it—I don’t know. She sounds tired. Sad, maybe.

“Everything all right?” Maddie asks.

“Yeah,” Laura says. “Yeah, we’ll be fine. See you at our usual Madrileña
spot next week?”

“Of course,” Maddie says. “You guys have fun.”

We watch them board the plane, and then Maddie and I turn and head for my truck.

“What’s going on with them?” I ask.

She shrugs. “It’s all very mysterious—no one really knows, not even Laura. I mean, he’s a footballer, and you know how they are.”

“Not all of them are like that,” I say. “Into the women and the parties and the general ridiculousness. Maybe Rhys is different.”

“Maybe,” Maddie says. “I just hope he doesn’t hurt her.”

“I just hope you like my paella,” I say.

Maddie smiles. My stomach flips. She’s got such a beautiful smile—I’m glad I get to see it so often these days.

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” she says.

“You’re delicious,” I say. “Now let’s get you home and into some foot pussies—you’re shivering.”

Thank you for reading LESSONS IN GRAVITY—I hope you laughed, you cried, you got turned on by the sassy bits. If you got
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Dear Reader,

Thank you very much for picking up LESSONS IN GRAVITY. To say this was a tough book to write is an understatement. Maddie and Javier are perhaps the most emotionally complex couple I’ve ever written, and I worked really, really hard to get it right. I hope you enjoyed their angsty journey to happily ever after!

While fictional, El Monasterio de los Humildes Reales is based on a real monastery in Madrid—El Monasterio de los Descalzos Reales, or the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals. My fabulous editor came up with the idea of a church-cum-concert hall, a la the Ryman Theater in Nashville, and I gave it a Madrileño twist. I never visited the Monastery of the Barefoot Royals while I was in Madrid, but if I ever go back, I’m definitely checking it out—it looks like an incredible spot.

If you’ve read book #1 of the STUDY ABROAD series, SPANISH LESSONS, you know Maddie didn’t come off as an exactly sympathetic character. Relationships with your girlfriends can be complicated, especially when you’re young(er), and I wanted to capture that angst in the dynamic between Vivian Bingley and her BFF Maddie. It worked (I hope!) in SPANISH LESSONS, but that meant I had to redeem Maddie through her own story in LESSONS IN GRAVITY. I hope you have a better understanding now of where she’s coming from and why she acts the way she does. She’s a tough cookie, sure, and she does some pretty stupid things, but I’d like to think beneath the layers of guilt and anger she’s an awesome, and awesomely relatable, human being.

Uncle Javier is actually based on a real-life Spaniard I met while studying abroad in Madrid more than ten years ago. My roommate and I went to Barcelona for a weekend early in the semester. We stayed with a friend of hers from her high school back in the states who was studying abroad there. That friend happened to have a lot of family in Barcelona. His “uncle” invited us to go on a sunset tour of the city on his plane. When said “uncle” picked us up, my roommate and I almost died. He was so.freaking.hot it was
unreal
. I knew I’d put him in a book if I ever wrote one—and here he is!

If you ever have the chance to study or just travel abroad, do it. Maybe you’ll meet a hot Spaniard, maybe you won’t—but it will change your life nonetheless.

Thanks again for reading Maddie and Javier’s story. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.

Besitos,

Jessica

P.S.—book #3 in the STUDY ABROAD series will be Laura and Rhys’s story. Look out for it sometime this summer!

Turn the page for a preview of SPANISH LESSONS (Study Abroad #1)—Viv and Rafa’s story! Get your FREE copy by signing up for my
newsletter
.

Vivian

August

Madrid, Spain

I clutch the scrap of paper with trembling fingers. The address I’ve scrawled on it in purple felt-tip pen is smeared with sweat; the paper feels fuzzy, worried by my hands as I’ve stumbled through Barajas International Airport.

The taxi driver, a nice looking dude with stringy blond locks that stream from a receding hairline, glances at me in the rearview mirror.