Secret Surrender
Page 10I didn’t slap my forehead though, instead crinkled it as I diligently researched her background. If there’s anything I’ve learned from my time with Vincent, it’s that successful people win by playing by their own rules. I was too busy trying to follow other people’s rules to make up my own. And I was okay with that, for now.
I looked at the extra duffel bag I had set next to my filing cabinet. This morning Vincent had texted me saying he was going to pick me up after work and I should pack a swimsuit and extra pair of clothes. It probably meant we were going somewhere tropical again. Of course, I didn’t complain.
My eyes were on the clock on the lower right corner of the computer monitor, watching the last few minutes of the work day tick by painfully. I felt like a kid waiting for recess. In addition to the items Vincent asked me to bring, I packed something extra. Sexy lingerie.
I waited for him at the usual spot behind the office building as he pulled his Camry to the curb. I opened the passenger door and hopped in.
He smiled and I smiled. We locked eyes then locked lips in a passionate embrace. We both missed one another and the kiss said it better than words ever could.
“You ready?” he asked. He was wearing a t-shirt and khaki shorts like the first time I met him in Cape Town. I’d almost gotten used to seeing him in a dress clothes so the effect was striking. Definitely sexy casual.
“So ready.”
He flicked the heart-shaped pendant around my neck. “I like how it looks on you.”
I glanced down at it. The deadly weapon looked rather cute. It certainly matched my outfit. “I’ve gotten a few compliments so far. You have good taste.”
We drove off and I settled into the feeling of being physically next to Vincent again. I watched the buildings and people pass by outside the window and periodically stole glances at Vincent’s beautiful features.
“Not going to ask me where we’re going this time?” He smirked.
“I figured it’s somewhere with water. But I’m eager to be surprised.”
“Seems like I’m rubbing off on you.”
“Maybe.” I grinned. “Although I’d much prefer you rubbing on me.”
It was his turn to grin. “Don’t worry. I assure you there will be plenty of that this weekend.” He gently patted my thigh to console me.
Before long, we arrived at the airport and stepped out onto the familiar tarmac. Hand-in-hand, we boarded his private plane.
The pilot was the same middle-aged gentleman who flew the plane when we went to St. Thomas but this time there was also a flight attendant. She was an elderly woman who introduced herself as Nancy and ushered Vincent and me to a row of three seats in the rear cabin. We had rows of seats in front and back of us which provided a bit of privacy while the space between rows were big enough for ample leg room. After stowing away our bags, she took a seat at the front cabin near the cockpit, preparing for departure.
My gaze was fixed out the window watching as the city below us became tinier. It was still hard to believe I was going for another weekend trip via private jet.
“Like the view?” Vincent asked as he caressed my thigh, his voice silk and his scent delicious.
“I like the feel as well,” I said, eyeing his hand petting me.
“You remind me of a cat. Feisty at first but once you earn their affection they can be very receptive. Plus, you like birds.”
“I’m flattered. Didn’t figure you for a cat person though.” I looked at him curiously. “Cats are great but I think I’m more of a dog lover. I had a yellow labrador when I was growing up. They’re loyal, obedient, protective, always smiling at you.” I touched the tip of his sharp nose with my finger and he smiled at me. “You remind me of a dog.”
“I guess that’s fair.” His forearm rested over mine on the armrest and he began massaging the sensitive skin between my fingers with his own. “But don’t expect me to hump your leg.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“I wouldn’t put it past me either.” He pinched the bottom edge of my gray pencil skirt. “Especially when you’re wearing a skirt like this. I don’t know what your bosses are thinking allowing you to wear something like this to work.”
My face heated. “It’s a typical work skirt, Vincent. Are you saying the dress standard for women in the professional world is unacceptable to you?” I teased. “Maybe they shouldn’t allow men with your libido to go to work with women around.”
“I don’t care what other women wear. I care what you wear and if anyone else is thinking about these legs.” He affectionately patted my thigh with his palm.
“Well then,” I said, raising my brow at him. “You’ll probably be pleased to hear my new client lead is a woman.”
His hand on my leg tightened. “Only if you don’t plan on pinching her nipples.”
“Oh?” I said curiously. “I would’ve thought that would be a turn-on for a man with your sex drive.”
“Turn it around. Have her pinch your nipples, then it’d be different.”
I frowned. “How is that any different?”
“You’d be the one moaning.”
“Don’t worry. The only client nipples I’ve pinched are yours and I plan to keep it that way.”
“Hopefully it’s not the last time you pinch them.”
“So you like me pinching your nipples? I thought that was only something women liked to do and men were indifferent to.”
“I like it. Gives me a charge.”
I laughed. I could imagine most guys being embarrassed about admitting they enjoyed having their nipples tweaked but Vincent was very comfortable with his sexuality—at least in front of me. The confidence was alluring.
I lightly squeezed his nipple between my fingers and he made a soft groan. “You’ve opened my mind.”
“Well maybe I can open you to other things as well. . .” His hand ventured between my thighs and began creeping up beneath my skirt.
I didn’t resist but when his hand came dangerously close to my pussy, I nervously scanned the cabin. “Vincent, we don’t have privacy. There’s the pilot and the flight attendant at the front of the plane,” I said, gesturing toward the cockpit. Peeking my head over the row of seats in front of us, I could see Nancy seated near the emergency exit reading a magazine.
“So?”
“So, I don’t want to do anything that would embarrass us.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“You’re not embarrassed if Nancy sees us—you know. . .”
“She has grandchildren.” He leaned closer so that his lips were grazing my cheek while he spoke. “She knows what happens between two people when there’s sexual attraction this intense.” His hand slipped further up my skirt and brushed over my panties against my clit.
I desperately sucked air into my lungs to stop myself from moaning.
“Are you embarrassed? Of us?” he whispered.
My eyes darted to the front of the cabin. Nancy was still reading her magazine. “A little embarrassed of doing this in public. But I do like you touching me.”
His hand found an opening in my panties and his fingers slipped inside. He ran one probing finger along my cleft, sliding up and down slowly. Insistent pressure fired raw nerves on sensitive flesh. I hadn’t felt his touch in a week but the need was so great it felt like months.
I licked my lips.
“Just say the word, and I’ll stop,” he crooned. His finger found my entrance and dipped inside.
I bit my bottom lip. Stopping was the last thing I wanted. If anything, I was about ready to join the mile-high club.
I tried bucking against his fingers but the seat belt restrained my movements. Moving my hips forward gained slightly more penetration. But it wasn’t enough.
Vincent kept his thrusts at the same depth.
“More,” I breathed.
His thrusts became deeper and more insistent.
I tried stifling the moan threatening to burst from my throat but Vincent’s hands were too confident, too skilled. I wasn’t going to hold on. The last of my will broken, my fingers curled around the ends of the armrests. Eyes closed and head tilted back against the headrest, my mouth opened to scream.
Vincent’s lips sealed over mine and I moaned into his mouth. His tongue dipped in, giving slow licks against my own, pacifying my quivering tongue.
The intercom buzzed. “Passengers, we’re at our cruising altitude. You can remove your seatbelts now,” the pilot said.
The lighted seat belt sign dinged then turned off.
I unbuckled myself and was preparing to thrust my hips into his hand when he grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around so I was laying flat with my back across the row of seats. Before I could protest, he had my wrists restrained above my head with the seat belt straps. A position I was intimately familiar with since the night at his place.
With a grunt, he pulled off my skirt and panties along with it, discarding them beneath the seats in front of us. I gasped in horror, realizing that I’d never put them back on in time should someone stop by to check on us. They were as good as thrown out the emergency exit.
He dipped his head between my legs and went to work on my throbbing clit with his tongue. Soft flicks combined with fast and slow movements.
My breathing became rapid and shallow. I curled my toes and struggled against my wrist restraints, fighting off the cries of pleasure threatening to escape my mouth.