Charming Hannah (Big Sky #1)(54)



“Oh God.”

“That’s right.”

“I can’t even.”

“Oh yes. You can.” He lowers his mouth to my clit, and that’s it. I explode into a million pieces. Without missing a beat, he wraps his arms around my back and picks me up, settling in the seat and me on top of him, straddling his hips.

I lower myself onto him, and when he’s buried as far as he can go, I lean in and kiss his mouth, loving the smell and taste of me on his lips.

“You make me crazy,” I whisper.

“Not nearly as crazy as you make me,” he counters, gripping my ass and urging me to move up and down in a long, quick motion. “I couldn’t wait to get airborne so I could have my way with you.”

“I have to admit, this is a first.”

He fists his hand in my hair and pulls me down to kiss him. “You make me want things I never have before, Hannah.”

“Like what?”

I bear down and squeeze, making him clench his teeth.

“This. Sex where someone could hear.”

“You said they can’t hear.”

He grins. “Well, they probably can’t.”

I pause, momentarily mortified, and then throw caution to the wind and move faster, bearing down harder.

“Trying to make me come?”

“Hell, yes,” I reply and bite his neck. “And I want you to be loud.”

His fingertips dig into my hips and every muscle in his body tightens as I continue to nibble and bite. And when I sink my fingers into his hair again, he cries out and comes apart, leaving me with a very satisfied smile.

“You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

“Or the girl who made you come,” I counter. “I’ll have bruises on my ass later.”

He frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” I reply as I stand and walk, naked, to the back of the plane. Once I’ve cleaned up, I return to find Brad already dressed, my clothes laid out on the chair we just had wild plane sex on.

I watch him as I pull on my clothes, fluff my hair, and sit opposite him, the way we started this trip.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asks casually, his voice calm.

“You sure do switch gears quickly.”

“I always want you, Hannah. I could take you again right now. But we’ll take a break. In the meantime, I’m thirsty.”

“Me too.” I smile gratefully, my nipples puckered all over again. “A Coke would be great.”

“Done.” He stands to go fetch our drinks, but pauses to lean in and kiss me thoroughly. “I’m going to fuck you frequently over the next few days.”

“Thank God.”

***

“Jesus.” I drop my handbag on the table by the doorway of the condo and stop to stare straight ahead. It’s all beautiful, but the view is already my favorite part.

And I’m barely inside.

We’re on the top floor of an owners’ building of this resort on the beach in southern California. Laguna Beach, to be exact. I’ve never been any farther west than Montana, and never to an ocean.

This is just spectacular.

“The penthouse has three bedrooms,” Brad begins as he carries the luggage into a bedroom, and then returns to look at me, then the view, and back at me again. “Hannah?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

The ocean is bright blue, and disappears into a sky just as blue as the water. There are palm trees and brown sand and a pool with a sunshine embedded in the tile below us.

I turn to stare at Brad, and then launch myself into his arms, kissing him crazy.

“I take it that’s a yes,” he says with a smile when I pull back.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Is this your first time to the ocean?”

I nod and when he sets me on my feet, I make a beeline for the sliding glass doors that lead out to a covered balcony, big enough for a dining table that seats six, a gas fire pit and a sectional sofa.

“This is amazing.”

“Max chose well when he bought this place,” Brad replies as he joins me at the railing. “He says it’s a good investment, and while I’m sure that’s true, he also spends quite a bit of time here.”

“Why would he ever go home to Montana?”

“Have you seen his house there?”

I shake my head no and he grins.

“It may not have this view, but it’s pretty great as well. Come on, I want to show you the condo and then we can do whatever you want.”

He takes my hand and leads me inside, pointing out five bathrooms, three of which are attached to bedrooms, a formal living space, and a dining room off of a gleaming white gourmet kitchen.

When he takes me into the master bedroom and shows me the adjoining bath and closet, all I can do is laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is a vacation home?”

“I know, it’s crazy.”

“Brad, this closet is my dream closet.”

I turn in a circle, taking it in. It must be two hundred square feet, with floor to ceiling shelving and built in dressers. There’s a vanity area, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling over an island with more drawer space.

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