3 BOOK BUNDLE: Flown By The Billionaire I, II, & III (4 page)

“You all right?” Alex softly asked, shifting his head back
so he could really look at me.

Silently a tear spilled onto my cheek. “Yeah,” I smiled
nodding. “It’s just…” I said, a lump in my throat strangling the words. “It’s
been a while,” I acknowledged apologetically. “And…umm,” I added. “You’re…err…”

“It’s okay,” he smoothly said, halting my pitiful attempts
to speak. “We can take it slow,” he offered simply. “You’re in control.”

Giving him a grateful smile, I leaned into him. “Touch me,”
I whispered.

Using both hands, Alex gently cupped my breasts, rubbing his
thumbs over the softening nipples and stirring them once again into hot, hard
points. Experiencing the warmth between my legs as well as at my chest, I
ventured to impale myself further, swallowing up half of him with an ecstatic
moan.

The fingers of Alex’s right hand fell away from my bosom and
slid down to my pubic bone, he pressed his palm against it and rubbed in a
circle, before placing his soft finger against my clitoris and stroking in up
and down motions.

“Oh, God,” I whimpered, my thighs beginning to burn with the
effort of keeping myself above him.

“You’re so sexy,” he mumbled, leaning forward and tracing my
left areola with the tip of his tongue.

“Ugh,” I groaned, plunging down a little further and experiencing
the delicious, powerful sensation of my body lengthening and swelling under the
pressure of his large, steely length.

“Mmm,” he moaned, his teeth gently gripping the nipple.

Caressing the nape of his neck, I dropped forward and
pressed my cheek to the top of his head. “Alex,” I mewled, letting go and
pushing my hips until they met his, consuming the final two inches of his
shaft. My pubic bone was then pressed against his, he was entirely sheathed
within me and, as my fingers dug into the thick muscles at his shoulders, I
felt the tension slowly release. I felt flutters and throbs as my passage made
the final adjustments and then, finally, I relaxed into him.

“Mel,” he panted, his breath coming hard against the curve
of my breast. “You feel so warm; so soft.”

F
or several moments, we
remained that way, simply enjoying the fact that we were one. My body quickly
grew restless, though, and I rocked uneasily against him. I wanted to feel him
moving within me; plunging in and out in that age-old rhythm. However, my legs
were trembling and weak; I knew I didn’t have the strength left to thrust
myself above him. “Alex,” I mumbled, running my hands through the short, soft
hair at the top of his neck. “I can’t…” I murmured, still rocking.

Apparently, he didn’t need a more eloquent version and
understood my gauche efforts to tell him what I needed. Grasping my hips, he
suddenly flipped me to the right, twisting as he moved, so that when my back
hit the couch, he was still securely inside me.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice deeper than I’d
ever heard it before.

“Yes,” I replied, wide-eyed from the shock of our motion,
but nodding eagerly.

He claimed my mouth as his hips pulled back slowly. I felt
every tiny ridge of veins and twitch of his motion, and moaned into his open
lips. He didn’t pull completely free, nor did he pause. Instead, he smoothly
thrust forward.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh…yes,” I whimpered, relishing the power with
which he entered me. Still with my shoes in place, I crossed my feet somewhere
at the base of his spine before edging them higher and moaning once more as it
caused him to sink deeper still.

Again, Alex slowly drew back and this time plunged forward
quicker than before.

The head of his shaft struck me sharply and I bucked against
him with a squealed mixture of discomfort and pleasure.

“Too much?” he asked, lifting his head in concern.

“No,” I breathlessly replied. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Lifting his upper body, he placed his hands flat on the
couch either side of me. Bracing most of his weight, he began to pump his hips
faster and with more strength. Each drive forward was coupled with a groan of
satisfaction from him and a breathy moan of pleasure from me.

I looked up at him and studied his face, frozen in
concentration and biting down on his bottom lip. My hands, which had been at
his back, slid down to his buttocks, grasping the large muscles and enjoying
the sensation as they clenched each time his hips met mine.

I began to arch, meeting his thrusts, as I felt a pressure
building in my pelvis. “Ugh, God,” I panted.

“Argh,” he groaned, stepping up the speed of his motion.

Each time he filled me, his pubic bone struck my clitoris
and, with the increased speed and friction, I experienced the mounting orgasm.
Sucking in a breath, I held it as I rolled my hips in a tiny circle.

“Oh, Mel,” he breathed. “I’m close.”

“Alex,” I screamed, feeling that I was about to explode.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I mumbled, my eyes clamping shut and fingers contracting
tightly at his buttocks. I trembled and my hips jerked and bucked; my internal
muscles spasming quickly in an arrhythmic pattern.

“Ugh,” he grunted, thrusting once more and remaining deep
inside me, his own pelvis jolting as if charged with electricity.

Then the warmth of his seed filled me in three strong
bursts, and it suddenly occurred to me that neither one of us had stopped to
think about protection.

“Oh, shit,” he gasped, breathless and perspiring. Closing
his eyes, his face dropped to mine and he kissed me tenderly. “I’m sorry,” he
panted against my mouth. “I totally forgot.”

“It’s okay,” I responded calmly, as my fingers, which were
struck with pins and needles, gradually released their hold of his behind. “I
didn’t think, either. I’m…err…okay, though. I mean, it’s been a long time since
I last had sex and that was protected, so I don’t have anything.”

With lazy eyes, he peered down at me. “I wasn’t worried
about that,” he smiled. “And, just in case you were, I’m safe, too.”

“I’m not worried,” I replied. At that time, it was the truth,
the next day it may have occurred to me to begin worrying, but right then and
there, those concerns were far from my mind. I was too fixated on the way he
felt within me, how right it seemed to have him fill me completely. He was
softening, but still his body was exquisitely secure within mine.

“And, what about…?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m on the pill,” I replied, assuring him that the
chances of me being impregnated by the encounter were remote. Of course, taking
the contraceptive pill was blasphemy as far as my parents were concerned. But
it had been advised by my doctor to help regulate my cycle and, more
importantly, they didn’t know about it.

We lay there, content for several minutes. I didn’t mind his
bulk pushing me into the couch. Somehow it felt comforting. Occasionally, we’d
share a sleepy kiss or one of us would release a satisfied sigh that caused the
other to chuckle. However, as we gradually began to feel the chill in the air
and our bodies and brains returned to the reality of our situation, I wondered
where we’d go from here.

Alex began to get up, saying, “I guess we ought to get
dressed, we’ll be landing in a few minutes.”

I stopped him, curling my arms around him. I needed to know
something before we parted, before real life butted its way back into the
perfect moments we’d shared. “So, umm…I guess I’ll have to look for another
job?” I suggested, a hopefully little smile on my lips.

“Why?” he asked, his dark brows creasing.

My heart sank and the smile faded. “Oh,” I sighed, releasing
him as if his skin burnt me. “I just thought,” I muttered. “Never mind,” I
insisted, shaking my head and pushing at his chest in an effort to slip out
from underneath him.

“You thought what?” he asked, refusing to budge. “What’s
wrong?”

“I just thought that this meant something,” I gabbled. “I’m
sorry.”

“It
did
mean something,” he responded quickly. “But I
don’t-” he stopped himself, a dawning realization lifting the heaviness of his
confused eyebrows. Smiling, he placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing his curved
forefinger over my jaw. “I’ve always made it a rule not to get involved with
people I work with,” he sighed, grinning broadly. “But I think I’m prepared to
make an exception for you.”

Noting the sparkle in his sincere eyes, I knew he wasn’t
simply telling me what I wanted to hear. “Are you sure?” I asked, suddenly
concerned that I was causing him to backtrack on his personal ethics.

“I’m sure,” he replied. “I don’t want to fly with anyone
else,” he assured me softly. His lips slowly descending and, seeming to seal
the deal, he molded his mouth to mine.

While trying to kiss him back, I found myself unable to
prevent the silly grin that contorted my lips. Something told me that work was
about to get a lot more interesting.

To be continued…

Flown By The Billionaire II

By

Carla Davis

M
elissa Cannagh had
been a shy, awkward teenager who attended an all-girls’ Catholic school and was
sheltered from any kind of sex education. She lost her virginity at the age of
twenty-one and, at that time, began to turn away from religion. However, now at
almost thirty years old, she’s had just three sexual partners and has
experienced the same problem with every boyfriend: she’s never fully enjoyed
sex and, through years of being told it’s a sinful act, she invariably feels
dirty afterward.

Nevertheless, she focused on other facets of her life,
securing a good job and her own apartment in New York. But that all changed
when the financial crash resulted in her company laying off nearly a hundred
members of staff. After months of trying to find alternative employment, she
has no choice but to give up her home and move back in with her overbearing,
devoutly religious parents.

Desperate to get back on her feet, she applies for every job
she can find, even fields in which she has no experience, and eventually finds
herself being interviewed to become a member of aircrew for a private plane.
Although she’s overqualified and inexperienced, the interviewer takes pity on
her and agrees to a trial period.

That trial period looks like it may be in jeopardy when
Melissa is instantly attracted to Alex Race, the man who owns the plane and
whose company she now works for. Soon, it becomes apparent that he’s interested
in her, too. However, he tells her that he’s got a rule regarding relationships
with people he works with.

The large luxury jet becomes more claustrophobic as the
tension between them continues to grow. When they’re alone in the plane, Alex
asks her to sit and talk with him. During one of these conversations, Melissa
learns that the young businessman is divorced and has a son.

Eventually, despite Alex’s conviction not to engage in an
inappropriate relationship with a women who works for him, and Melissa’s
reticence regarding sex, passion and desire overcome them both and they make
love right there in the plane.

Although Alex assures Melissa that it’s more than just a
fling to him, will her old concerns and hang-ups cause her to shy away from
being flown by the billionaire again?

S
itting in traffic, I
fidgeted, my hand clasping and unclasping over the gearshift. I glanced at the
small digital display above the stereo and established, for the seventh time,
that even with the delay, I wasn’t going to be late. No, it wasn’t a lack of
time that agitated me. It was the thought of seeing Alex Race again.

It had been a week since his last flight and since I had
last seen him. I’d wanted to give him the number of my cell as we’d stood
awkwardly on the tarmac, aware that we could be seen and wanting desperately to
say ‘goodbye’ in a way that reflected the passion we’d shared that afternoon.
However, we professionally parted ways, with me unwilling to offer my phone
number in case I seemed like an inexperienced, clingy teenager.

The last seven days, which should have been a vacation, have
actually been anything but. Left alone with my thoughts, I’ve been driving
myself crazy; reliving every second of that afternoon and finding all the ways
in which I may have disappointed him.

It was ridiculous. And part of me knew that.

Alex hadn’t acted as if he were remotely unhappy or
dissatisfied with my performance or my body. But my sheltered adolescence and
comparative inexperience created insecurities that I was not strong enough to
battle alone.

So, as I sat in the unmoving car, I began to berate myself.
‘He won’t be as pleased to see you as you are to see him,’ I silently
remonstrated. ‘Just get a grip.’

After an uncomfortable thirty minutes, I finally made it to
Teterboro Airport. Getting out of the car, I quickly fastened my scarlet neck
scarf and found myself blushing like a prudish Victorian maiden when I was
suddenly struck with the recollection of his fingers removing it. Pulling
myself together, I strode to the office, signed in and then went out onto the
runway.

Some maintenance guys were just clearing away their
equipment after washing ‘Make a Wish’ inside and out. They nodded politely to
me as I approached the plane.

“We’re all done, Ma’am,” one of them smiled.

The usual day-to-day cleaning of the interior was usually my
job. But after she’d been sitting idle for several days, the larger crew was
instructed to give the plane a thorough cleaning.

“Thanks,” I replied with a courteous smile.

It was only once they passed me that I began to wonder
whether they’d seen something that would reveal what Alex and I had done in
there. Again, I felt my cheeks burn. Again, I tried to talk some sense into
myself. Even if they did find evidence that someone had had sex, they would
have no way of knowing who it had been. Of course, given that I was often the
only woman on the plane, they might draw a conclusion, but they could not know
for sure. With a nod of confidence in that thought—which I still did not
entirely believe—I gripped the handrail and ascended the steel steps that led
me into the cabin.

I found the cockpit door open, the pilot leaning against it
with a clipboard tightly held in his hand.

“Morning, Melissa,” he said, tapping the end of his
ballpoint pen against his bottom teeth.

“Morning,” I quickly replied, heading as fast as possible to
the relative safety of the rear of the plane. I pretended to sort through some
supplies, checking that we had enough coffee, tea, and other drinks. My rush to
get away from him was driven by nothing more than rampant paranoia. Did he
know? Was there a way for the cockpit to listen in on what happened in the
cabin? Was there a way for him to
see
what went on in the cabin?

By the time he finished his preflight routine, I was a
nervous wreck.

And then things got worse. I heard the quick, energetic
footsteps of someone jogging up the airstairs. There was only one person who
bounded into the plane with that much energy.

Ducking his tall frame under the entry archway, he appeared
in the cabin; all bright, sparkling dark eyes and blinding smile. “Morning,
Dan,” he greeted the pilot.

“Hi, Alex,” he replied.

“Morning, Melissa,” my employer called, lifting a hand from
one pocket and waving to me across the long plane’s corridor.

“Good morning,” I responded, trying to force a smile and
knowing that the attempt was doomed. I hoped he would walk toward me and we
could exchange a few quiet words in private.

However, he didn’t move. Instead, he graced me with a broad
wink before settling into his usual seat in the front portion of the cabin.

I could not help feeling deflated, but within a moment there
were voices and more footsteps on the airstairs. Two of Alex’s colleagues
climbed aboard and were instantly making themselves comfortable on the couch
next to Alex’s seat.

One of them, Laura, I had met on another trip. She was a
senior member of the company’s legal team. She was one of those impossibly thin
women, beautiful and tall. I assume she’d had to make a decision between going
to law school and becoming a model. The other passenger was a man I hadn’t seen
before. He looked no older than twenty-five and had curly brown hair that was
long enough to be considered shabby chic. However, he wore a snappy suit and a
pair of thick-rimmed glasses that were heavy and constantly being pushed toward
the bridge of his nose.

Taking a deep breath and pressing the backs of my fingers to
my cheeks in an attempt to chill them off, I walked toward the small group and
offered them coffee.

“No thanks, Melinda,” Laura replied, not even looking up
from the file she was hunched over.

“M—” I began to correct her.

“It’s Melissa,” Alex interjected on my behalf, leaning
forward to slide his jacket off his shoulders. “Oh,” he blurted, “you haven’t
met Nathan yet, have you?”

“Umm, no,” I mumbled, turning my face to the messy-haired
man and offering him a small smile.

“Nathan, this is Melissa,” Alex continued.

Nathan jumped off the couch and offered me his hand. “It’s
nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I responded.

“I’ll have something stronger if you don’t mind,” he
continued.

Raising my eyebrows, I peered questioningly at him. “At nine
in the morning?” I asked, trying not to sound judgmental.

“I get really nervous about flying,” he replied, still
smiling. “It’s just to relax me.”

“Oh,” I nodded, “I see.”

“I’ll have a Bourbon on the rocks. Thanks, hon.”

I seethed silently about the over familiar way he’d
addressed me. He might not have meant anything by it; some people are just free
and easy with meaningless appellations. “And for you, Alex?” I said, turning to
my employer, but not quite meeting his eyes.

He wasn’t looking at me anyway; he was busy setting his
laptop on his legs. “I’ll have a cappuccino, please.”

Grateful that the exchange was kept short, I turned my
blushing face from the three of them and headed toward the rear of the plane to
prepare their drinks.

 That morning, Alex and his colleagues had a meeting in
Detroit. The flight was a little over an hour, but it seemed much, much longer.

After his scotch, Nathan became chatty and, while Alex and
Laura worked silently, he was determined to talk to me. As I pottered in the
kitchen area, he propped himself against the bar.

“Hey there,” he began, one hand moving to loosen the knot of
his tie. “Wondered if you were getting lonely back here.”

“Umm, no,” I replied. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Well, I’m lonely up there,” he grinned, the forefinger of
his left hand giving his spectacles another brisk shove. “So…” he sighed,
drawing the sound out. “How long have you been part of the family?”

“Err,” I hesitated, “only a couple of months.”

“Uh huh,” he nodded. “And has anybody given you a proper
welcome?” he asked, the right side of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

It felt distinctly as if he was hitting on me. It
sounded
distinctly as if he was hitting on me. But I didn’t want to make any
assumptions. And, truth be told, I didn’t want to deal with it. I hoped, if I
could just ignore the lascivious undertones, he’d simply go away.

My silence didn’t deter him, though. “Maybe we could…?” he
suggested, leaning closer. “You know,” he added, grinning.

“Not really,” I responded quickly, bending to pick up a
clean dishtowel and focusing my energies on wiping the already clean bar.

“I hear there’s a bedroom back there,” he mumbled. “What do
you say?”