A Sip of You(11)
I pulled away first and laughed. “You’re welcome. You’ve never come like that before?” I asked, blinking with mock innocence.
He gave me a smirk. “Sometimes you’re very naughty, aren’t you?” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply again—a playful kiss, but laced with emotion too. I leaned into him contentedly. I could stay here forever, in our own private world, far, far away from all the stresses and realities of real life. He pulled back slightly and murmured, “I loved your hand.” A frisson of desire zinged through me in response to just the tone of his voice. It amazed me that I never seemed to get enough of William. The more he satiated me, the more I craved him. His hand cupped my sex. “But I love this more.” He stroked my cleft, and I felt my damp panties press against the tender flesh. There was that word again—love. I moaned quietly, pushing harder against his hand.
“I wish we had more time, but...” He drew away and studied his right wrist and the cheap drugstore watch I’d given him this morning when he returned the Patek Philippe to me. “We are either about to land”—he glanced at his Rolex on his left hand—”or we have just enough time to get cleaned up before we land.”
I slapped his chest playfully. My Walgreen’s watch was black, plastic, and chronically fast, and William liked to tease me about what Beckett called “Cat Time,” my habit of running ten minutes late for just about everything. But he was wearing my watch and, even if the time was wrong, it meant a lot to me that he still had it on. I would have been happy to snuggle back under the covers with him, but he sat up and pulled me with him. “Hop to it, girlfriend.” He grinned at me. We were both still getting used to our new relationship status, and terms like boyfriend and girlfriend were novelties to us both. William rose. “We’re almost in California.”
Three
About thirty minutes later, William and I were strapped in as the jet landed at Napa County Airport. The Xanax must have worked because William didn’t crush my hand when he held it this time, and he was able to chat a little, mentioning that the airport was about thirty miles from his estate in St. Helena.
Estate. I wasn’t sure what differentiated a regular house from an estate, but I knew ordinary didn’t apply to anything related to William. I’d find out soon enough.
I held William’s hand eagerly as we exited the jet and blinked into the setting sun of early evening in California. It was only a little after five o’clock here, and the sun was low on the horizon, about to dip below the brown landscape of mountains.
I had the overwhelming sense that I was home as soon as I saw the mountains and felt the cool breeze in my hair. It was chilly, but it didn’t cut through me like the biting wind in Chicago. And there was a smell too, of green grass and trees and sunshine. I’d forgotten that smell, but I recognized it now and it permeated everything underneath the more powerful odors of jet fuel and exhaust.
William led me down the steps pushed against the side of the plane, and I noted the larger jet had already arrived. George Graham, William’s assistant, and several other members of William’s team were lined up in two clusters on the tarmac a little distance away, waiting for us. I felt a bit like a visiting dignitary and smiled at the idea of approaching George and curtseying. Since he didn’t seem to possess a sense of humor, he probably wouldn’t get the joke. George was short and stocky with clipped silver hair and a military bearing and I didn’t think I’d ever seen him smile.
When we touched the asphalt, George came forward immediately, and I noted his Men in Black suit was perfectly pressed despite the long flight. “Good evening, Mr. Lambourne.” George nodded to me. “Miss Kelly.” Unlike Anthony, who was friendly, I was perfectly happy to have George continue calling me Miss Kelly.
“A word, Mr. Lambourne.”
William shot me an apologetic look. “Give me just a minute.” He kissed me lightly on the cheek and stroked my upper arm, then stepped away with George. They walked as they spoke, heading toward the second group of two or three people. I stood there alone, feeling momentarily uncertain, and then moved toward the first group, where Anthony smiled at me and William’s executive assistant, Parker, stood scrolling through a Smartphone. As I approached, she glanced up, gave me a quick smile, and asked, “Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Kelly?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine,” I said, distracted by watching William and George reach the second group of people, who were only a few feet away from us. With the roar of the jet engines, I couldn’t make out anything that was being said.