His Flight Plan (8 page)

“Don’t tighten up, sweet lady, relax.” He moved his dick and thumb in opposite rhythms. When one was pulling out, the other was pressing in.

The double penetration became less of a shock and more of a sensual wonder. Spreading her legs wide, she gripped his hips and worked herself on both stiff members. Her arousal wasn’t the only one building to euphoric delirium. She witnessed the changes in the eyes of the man thrusting above hers; they were drawn tight and darkened with passion. Drake’s teeth were sunk deep into his bottom lip as his groans and growls created a harmony with her whimpers and moans.

Then gratification’s embrace captured them both.

“Dra-a-a-ake!” She screamed, shaking and shuddering against him as stars crashed and sparked behind her lids.

“Ahhh…sweeeet…Kie—” His words stuttered as his body stilled, then juddered and bucked as he filled her with the hot essence of his release.

For long moments she could hear nothing beyond her own heartbeat pumping in her ears and their heavy pants filling the room.

After a while, a semi-recovered Drake wrapped his arms around her and rolled to his back with an inelegant flop.

Weak and still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm, she allowed her limbs to drape over the sides of his body. She was sure if someone walked in right now she’d look comical in such a display, but she didn’t even care. Her body was humming with satisfaction.

His heart beat a fierce tempo beneath her ear.

“You know…you saying my name doesn’t count…if you only get it half out.” Her brain was still muddled and caused her speech to be slow.

“Well, we’ll just have to try again until I get it right.” He gingerly caressed her spine with his fingers.

“Not before you feed me. A girl must keep up her energy.” She kissed the center of his chest.

He tugged a lock of her hair. “You want to go out?”

She was sure her hair was a fright. That was one thing about having natural hair, it couldn’t just be fingered into place…it took a little work. Glancing up at him, she was glad to see he didn’t appear fazed at all by the wildness of her mane. “Is it wrong if I say I don’t want to be around other people and that I want to keep you all to myself?”

“Not at all. I feel selfish toward you too.”

Scouting up, she kissed him. “Then let’s order pizza.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

His words jolted her heart, made it skip a beat. She knew that she could easily fall in love with Drake Rhine. It was possible she was more than halfway there. It was crazy. Insane, since she barely knew him, but her emotions were engaged from the moment he stood at her hotel door in Chicago with the bag of toiletries he’d handpicked for her.

Keeping her thoughts to herself, she got up. “You get the shower going and I’ll call in the order. Is pepperoni fine with you?”

“Can we get mushrooms and jalapeños on one side?”

She smiled at his request. “We can have it all over.” She enjoyed her food with spice.

He winked at her, then got up from the bed and strutted into her bathroom.

Taking a moment she watched him walk, sighing she turned and went to find her cell phone to retrieve her local pizza place from her contacts.

“You know, you didn’t have to put that thing on.”

“Of course I did. You have to see how I look in the gown you bought me.” The beautiful woman sitting across from him on the living room rug with a pizza box between them swept her hand down the large, blue flannel material and smiled. 

He shook his head. “Trust me. Once you opened that door at the hotel and I saw just how lovely and svelte you were, I realized I’d made a mistake. Antwan had not described you and I was trying not to offend you with some slinky number. But I was way off.”

“I love it.” Kiera laughed. “It’s warm and roomy. Big enough for two…maybe three people.” Picking up her second slice of pizza she bit through the crust end first, her style.

He’d already eaten three-and-a-half pieces.

Chuckling, he sat there for a moment and admired her. After their shower, where they had ended up in sudsy play until they had both reached orgasm simultaneously by one another’s hand, she’d moisturized and twisted her hair. Now she sat with him, confidently sporting a black silk scarf tied around her head. Her face was fresh and void of the makeup she’d worn earlier. Kiera wasn’t the first black girl he’d dated. Not being a man who cared about race, he’d dated African-American, Caucasian, and Asian women. However none of those women ever allowed themselves to be relaxed and unadorned in his presence like Kiera. Not until they’d been dating for a few months.

This gorgeous lady before him was different. In many ways from all other women he had been with before. She made him want to protect her, be better, and give her the world on a silver platter. Not because she couldn’t afford to get her own platter. Hell, she probably had access to more money than he could imagine through her parents. He wanted to be her man and provide for her. The intense feeling to call Kiera his was something new to him. Even in his past long-term relationships he’d always been able to guard his heart, keep a part of himself separate, but she made things different somehow.

“What?” She picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth twice.

Lifting a brow, he questioned her word.

“You’re staring at me. Do I have sauce on my chin or something?” She lifted a hand and patted her scarf as if ensuring it was in place.

He smiled. “You’re perfect. I enjoy looking at you.”

“Do you?” She set her slice down and picked up her water bottle and drank from it.

“Yes.” He picked up the box and set it on her coffee table. “Want to know something else?” Claiming her bottle, he screwed the top on it and placed it and his own drink on the table as well.

Her hazel eyes became more green than brown as they began to brighten with desire as she intuitively picked up on his shift in mood. “What’s that?”

“I’m ready for the next round of loving.” He grasped the hem of her grotesque gown and began to inch it up her thighs. “You remember I had plans for tasting you.”

She allowed him to press her back toward the carpet. “I would think you’re too full after all the pizza you scarfed down.”

“Oh, but that just means I’m even more ready for my dessert.” After he settled the flannel against her belly, leaving the lower half of her body revealed to him, he parted her knees. Once again, he was in the perfect position to gaze upon the splendor of her pussy. The brown lips of her sex were swollen with need, but what truly captivated his attention was seeing the pink tint of her inner folds drenched with her cream—evidence of her arousal.

It thrilled him how much she desired him. His dick, hard in his boxer briefs, twitched, anxious to slip inside her tight pussy a second time. However, it would have to wait a while because he was going to take his time between her supple thighs. He was planning to enjoy himself like a starving man, making her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A lust-hungry man’s buffet.

Fingering a lock of his hair that had fallen over his forehead, she twirled it around. “Let me not be the kind of woman who stands in the way of a man treating himself.”

Peeking up at her briefly, he winked, then stretched out before her sex as he took hold of her thighs and settled his weight on his elbows. Her fragrance enthralled him—a heady musk, both pungent and sweet—it beckoned him to taste her.

Obeying his craving, he lowered his head and flattened his tongue against her pussy, then drug it up toward her clit, ensuring he got a substantial amount of her cream. At her tiny, stiff nubbin, he drew it into his mouth and sucked it hard, once, and then pulled away.

Kiera moaned and thrust her hips up as she parted her thighs wider.

Smiling at her response, he licked his lips, collecting more of the sublime flavor of her pussy. “Get ready for a long, slow ride.”

She raised her head from the floor and gazed down her body at him. “Oh, nooo…you’re planning to torture me.”

He flicked his tongue over the tip of her clit. “Yes, sweet lady, but I’ll reward you with mind-blowing pleasure at the end.”

“Promises, promises.” She dropped her head back as she sighed playfully.

Not responding with words, he proved with his mouth how well he kept his promises.

* * * *

“Here you go, Mr. Reese.”

Drake watched his brother hand the stack of papers to Mr. Branson’s lawyer over the coffee table, the contract now signed. This time they all met in the business mogul’s office instead of the conference room as they had the first time they met almost six months ago now.

Mr. Reese took them and flipped through the pages, making sure everything was in order.

Tasha had gone through it page by page with him and his brother, making sure they initialed at the bottom of each page and had signed their legal signatures on the last. Mr. Branson’s contract was longer and more complex than the one they’d signed when they claimed ownership of the airport.

“Everything is taken care of.” Mr. Reese rose from his seat on the couch beside Mr. Branson. “I’ll have Mr. Branson’s office manager, DrewAnn, make you all copies of it.” He headed to the office door.

“Three copies, please.” Tasha called out to Mr. Reese.

The other lawyer nodded and walked out.

“I know you’re a busy man, so we will not take up anymore of your time.” Vance rose from his chair, one of three that had been positioned across the couch from Mr. Branson and his lawyer.

“I will say that I’m looking forward to continuing my business connection with Harrisburg Airport.” Mr. Branson offered them a smile as he stood up.

“We are thankful that you agreed to have your company provide the fuel supply.” Drake offered his hand to the older gentleman.

Grasping his hand, Mr. Branson pumped it. “Once I met you and your brother a few months back, it was an easy decision for me. I admire men who have the courage and know how to strike out on their own. It’s how I started.”

“Isn’t your father Marcus Branson of Branson International Shipping Corp?” Vance asked as he shook hands with the business mogul.

Mr. Branson chuckled. “A man who does his homework. Yes, he is. However, he didn’t believe in giving a leg up to his children. So, my four sisters and I had to start from scratch in building our own empires.”

“I think I would’ve liked your father,” Drake commented. It amazed him how his impression of the rich and how they raised their children was being altered from what he saw in the media that generally only featured the spoiled socialite children.

“Well, maybe you’ll get a chance to meet him one day, since the old coot is still around.” Mr. Branson patted Drake on the shoulder blade as he escorted them toward the door.

“You have a lovely family.” Tasha stood beside the long credenza against the wall adjacent to the door and admired an eight-by-ten, silver-framed photo.

“Thank you. That was taken for my sixtieth birthday. Once your children hit a certain age the pictures of them become few and far between.” Mr. Branson gazed fondly at the portrait.

Drake glanced around Tasha toward the photo only out of politeness. He froze as his lungs seized up on him. All four members of the family were attractive and well-styled as they all showcased wide smiles for the camera. However, there was only one face that drew every ounce of his attention—Kiera’s. Right there in glossy color was the woman who’s bed he’d rolled out of at six o’clock that morning.

Hell, it was the woman he was making scream at five thirty, because he couldn’t leave her without slipping deep inside of her one more time. His dick was still sore from all the sex they’d had last night. And here he was standing beside her father. The business mogul responsible for providing fuel to his and Vance’s airport business.
Fuck
.

Kiera had rocked his world, but more importantly, he’d returned back to his hotel to shower and dress for the nine a.m. meeting with the knowledge that she opened up his heart and burrowed her way inside.
This couldn’t be happening.

“His daughter.”

“Drake?”

“What did you say, Drake?”

Tasha and Vance both spoke at the same time, bringing his attention back around to the others in the room and the gravity of the situation he was in.

Drake frowned. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken the words out loud. “Hm.” He cleared his throat attempting to come up with something that made sense. “I was just saying that your daughter favors your wife.”

Mr. Branson chuckled. “Only in looks. She is all me inside. Now my son…” The older man shook his head. “On another note. When will you all be back in town?”

“About three weeks to a month.” Vance confirmed.

“Good, good. That’s perfect. My daughter, Kiera, owns a community center for youth. She’s allowing me to put together a fundraiser benefit. It is important to her that most of the people who come and contribute are local business owners. I’d love to add the three of you to that list of attendees. It would be a perfect place for you to connect with some of the people in the city.”

Drake nodded. Not because he particularly wanted to attend, but out of courtesy as he tried to figure out a way for them to get out of going.

“Drake and I would love to come. We’ll be there.” Vance was smiling and offering another round of handshakes.

Staring at his brother, shocked that Vance would volunteer them for something without consulting with him first.
Shit
.

“Great. And you, Mrs. Rucker?” Branson asked Tasha.

“Sorry. I will be back in Michigan now that all the legal part of my cousins’ business is settled.”

“Understandable.”

Drake would have preferred to be in Michigan with Tasha.

Branson placed a hand on Drake’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to you two meeting my daughter.”

Why’s he staring at me?
A sick feeling began to expand in Drake’s stomach.
What would this man think about signing on with the Harrisburg Airport if he knew about me and Kiera?

Rich business tycoons always preferred their children marry well. What did Kiera say, that her brother was engaged to some CEO’s daughter, leaping up the corporate ladder following the “I Do’s”? Drake doubted that Branson would accept his daughter in a serious relationship with a blue-collar man.