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A Sip of You(3)

By:Sorcha Grace


My hand was on the door handle, ready to open it so I could sprint into William’s arms, when Anthony opened it for me and helped me down. The wind whipped about me, wrapping my coat around my legs and blinding me with my hair across my eyes. It was freezing, the windchill obviously well below twenty degrees.

“I’ll take those for you,” Anthony said over the wind. I gave him my laptop bag but held on to my purse and camera bag. William waved at me. I started for the plane, and Anthony followed with my gear. I climbed the stairs, my gaze never leaving William’s, and finally I reached the top step and he took my hand.

“You’re here.” He squeezed my fingers. “Finally.”

“Am I late?” For once, I thought I was actually on time.

“No, but I can’t stand being apart from you.” He slid his arm around my back, and I felt the warmth of his skin even through my layers.

I was thankful for his touch. His big hands steadied me—and also shot heat and arousal through me. He seemed to know exactly the effect he had on me as he pulled me just inside the door, out of the bitter cold, and crushed me against him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too.” Our mouths locked, and he kissed me with an intensity that showed me just how much he’d hated being away from me these past few hours. Despite the chill, he was warm. My hearting racing, I dropped my purse and camera bag and threaded my fingers through his curls.

When we came up for air, I was almost dizzy. “It’s only been a few hours since we were together, but it feels like days since we last kissed.”

“It’s all my fault,” William replied. “But let me try to make it up to you.”

His lips found mine again and this time his kiss was deeper, more demanding. He tasted so good, and I felt jolts of electricity every place his hard, strong body came in contact with mine. I’d never had this kind of chemistry with anyone before—not even with Jace, my late husband. But it had been like this with William since the moment I met him. I had flashes of us together—him pushing me against the shelves of the freezer at Willowgrass as his tongue, tasting of cinnamon and bourbon, invaded me for our first kiss. The sweet richness of chocolate and the ecstasy of his mouth on me while I writhed on the floor of my kitchen, completely naked and open to him the first time he made me come. And I’d never forget the taste of champagne and chilled grapes mixed with my own taste on his lips as he thrust inside me, filling me until I shattered again and again on his bed. For me, the experience of kissing William was forever linked with food and sex and was like a drug I could never get enough of.

Finally, he broke the kiss. I noted his eyes had darkened. We were standing in the plane’s doorway and poor Anthony was standing on the steps behind me, waiting for our make-out session to conclude. I flushed with embarrassment as William tugged me farther inside the cabin. It was easy to forget just about everything—and everyone—else when we were together.

Here the roar of the wind quieted. The lights in the cabin were soft and cast a warm glow, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. And then it was all I could do not to sputter in amazement: I was engulfed in total luxury. I glanced around and, knowing William was used to this sort of thing, I gave Anthony a have-you-seen-this look.

“Pretty nice, huh?” Anthony nodded, stopping behind me and setting my laptop case on the large, plush seat closest to us. Then he moved away to stow the rest of my stuff.

“Do you like it?” William asked with a smile, his hand on my back again, gently stroking me like he needed to have his hands on me at all times. I was already his, but I loved his possessiveness just the same.

“Like it? I don’t know what to compare it to. It’s incredible,” I answered as I looked around in awe.

The cabin reminded me more of a living room than any airplane I had ever seen. The floor was carpeted in light beige and the walls were a slightly bolder shade of that same color. On my left was a rich brown leather couch with coordinating throw pillows. Across from it were two wide leather armchairs and a dark wood desk equipped for either a business conference or work. In fact, a laptop was already open on the desk.

Behind the chairs were a large sectional and a coffee table facing a big flat-screen TV. A smaller flat-screen with its volume muted and a stock market ticker scrolling across it was built into the plane’s back wall. Beyond was a door, indicating the plane had yet another room. Everything looked luxurious, polished, and totally posh.

“Thank you, Anthony,” William said as Anthony finished with my bags. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”