Up in Flames(Rosemary Beach #14)(8) by Abbi Glines
I inhaled sharply and nodded. I didn’t trust my words. His grip on my hip tightened, and he jerked me close to his side with a force that was sure to bruise my pale skin. Then he eased his hold and ran his hand gently over the spot he’d just abused.
“Sweet baby, you can’t toy with me. I’m not a boy. I’m a motherfucking man. Understand?”
I nodded again, and my breathing was erratic. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I was completely drawn in by this taste of brutality. I’d never known this, and I wasn’t sure why it called to me. I should be running like hell, not burrowing closer. Was I that fucked up?
He led me inside, and while the others around us were being weighed and given directions for their flights, we were immediately directed to a back door.
“Mr. Roth, this way sir,” a young guy said, staring toward Gannon with a fearful expression I understood. The guy didn’t even glance my way, as if he’d been warned not to, as he led us outside onto the tarmac and toward a waiting helicopter.
“Your pilot arrived an hour ago, sir, and has checked out the helicopter to his satisfaction. He’s waiting for you.”
His pilot? Did he have his own pilot?
“Good. I can take it from here. You may go,” Gannon replied, in a tone that indicated complete power.
The guy with the Maverick emblem on his navy-blue polo shirt looked relieved and turned to hurry back inside like he couldn’t get away from us fast enough.
“Are we not using one of their pilots?” I asked, looking up at him. I wasn’t wearing my stilettos tonight, and he towered over my five-nine frame.
“Only trust my own” was his reply. He stepped up to the helicopter, and the pilot inside nodded to him, then looked straight ahead as if we weren’t there.
Gannon’s hands slipped around my waist as he lifted me into the back row of seats. “Sit over by the far window,” he instructed.
He followed me in, taking the seat beside me before reaching over to buckle me into the harness. My breathing was still erratic, and his eyes flared hot with a warning I knew even before he spoke.
“Careful. I’ll fuck you right here. He can watch.”
Why did that make me shiver and squeeze my legs together? His words were sick and twisted. Yet the way his hands ran over my body and the fact that I didn’t doubt he’d take me right here, not caring who saw us, made me pant with need.
“Goddamn, you’re a wild one,” he muttered, then buckled his own straps. “Don’t put on the headset. We don’t need to talk.” His order was a hard bark.
I nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at me. His attention was straight ahead.
“Ready,” he said to the pilot, who nodded, and we slowly began to move.
As the helicopter started to lift, I watched the ground below us as Gannon’s large hand slid between my legs, roughly jerking them open. I inhaled sharply as he squeezed my thigh too hard, then cupped me with more force than was necessary. My skirt rode up my thighs, and I knew he wouldn’t miss the fact that my panties were damp. I wondered if others would be able to see the bruise on my thigh that his hand had no doubt left.
Unable to control myself, I let my legs fall open to his invasion, as I stared at the mountains of rocks below. It was beautiful and peaceful down there. The thick knuckle pressing against my clit and making me tremble and breathe heavily couldn’t be ignored, however. This was totally insane. Just like the man beside me.
When he moved the satin crotch of my panties over, I could smell my sex scent, and I knew it was going to permeate the cabin. The pilot would smell me, too. Again, I should have been humiliated, but I wasn’t. I rocked forward, trying to get close to him. A large finger rammed inside me so forcefully I cried out in pain, and the view beneath me became a blur.
Each shove of his finger was followed by a gentle caress over my clit. It was brutal and loving. The two didn’t mix, but he was making it work. I was dizzy from the sensation. No longer caring that we weren’t alone, I rocked against his hand. Even when he slapped my tender ache to stop me from moving, I only managed to let out a moan.
I was close to an orgasm when the scenery beneath us changed, from what I was sure had been the Hoover Dam to the Vegas Strip at sunset. The lights were beautiful, and the view came into focus just as my orgasm hit me.
Rush handed me a beer before sitting down across from me on his balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico.
“Yeah, I know where she is. She always lets me know where she’s headed. What I don’t know is why the fuck you think I’d tell you. If she isn’t telling you, then she doesn’t want you to know.”
Rush Finlay was another rock legend’s son, like my cousin Mase. Rush’s father was the drummer in the band Mase’s father was the lead singer of. The boys had grown up in the shadow of their fathers’ fame, Rush more so than Mase. But they also reaped the benefits, as evidenced by their gorgeous wives.
“She’s mad at me, I think. I’d like to fix that.”
Rush cocked an eyebrow and glanced out at the water before taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I bet you would” was his only response.
This wasn’t going to be easy, but now that I knew he could tell me where to find her, I wasn’t quitting. “Nan is hard to understand. I’m trying, but I’m obviously not doing it right.”
Rush didn’t say anything at first, then turned his attention back to me. “Nan is a woman. Granted, she’s a difficult one, but she’s a woman. She gets hurt just like any woman. She has feelings that people assume aren’t there because of how she acts. She ran off, which means she let you get close enough to affect her emotions. That doesn’t happen much.”