“Yes. But first get to the part about your publicist,” I demanded.
He folded over and dragged his tongue up the valley between my shoulder blades. “I paid a ton of money to buy the pictures off the paparazzi from that first night you came to my rescue and guided me inside the hotel. I didn’t want to risk you freaking out and running off after our first night together, but also because I can only imagine how terrible I looked in the throes of a panic attack.”
“You bought all of them?” I asked in a mixture of surprise and awe. The fact that he’d gone to such lengths to ensure he didn’t lose me made my chest warm.
“I did,” he mumbled, hooking an arm under my hips to pull me up to my knees. Then he began massaging the lube over my ass. “And I gave permission for the good ones to be released this morning along with your name, age, occupation, and new relationship status of”—he paused, his hand dipping between my legs to find my cock—“taken.”
I wanted to be annoyed that he hadn’t discussed this with me first, but the possessive way in which he spoke turned me on more than his hand stroking my shaft.
“My phone will probably stay off for a while too,” he added, gliding his hand back up my ass. “The media is going to be hounding us both. Let me take you somewhere quiet for a while. I have two weeks off—three if I rearrange my schedule.”
My body rocked forward as his finger sank inside, forcing a deep moan from my throat. “Where?” I asked—not that it mattered. I’d have gone anywhere with him.
“Wherever you want. I own a house on Lake Tahoe though. We could be there by lunch.” He added another finger, but that wasn’t why my chin snapped to my shoulder so I could see him.
It would have taken at least eight hours to drive to Tahoe. We’d have been lucky to be there by dinner. However, a flight would take less than ninety minutes.
He smiled sheepishly. “I know a pilot who could probably take us on short notice.”
“You’re going to let me fly you?”
He shrugged and then curled his finger inside me. “I trust you, Evan.”
I would have kissed him, something deep and reverent that could convey how much it meant that he was willing to face his fears with me. But, on my knees, with his fingers inside me, I was in no position to take his mouth.
I thought he got the message though, because seconds later, he was inside me.
Minutes later, I was crying his name as I came.
And, hours later, Henry had a drink in his hand as I gave him a kiss and then climbed into my cockpit in order to fly my man to Nevada.
“FUCK,” I CURSED, staring down at Evan between my knees, taking my cock deep to the back of his throat.
Tahoe had been our quiet retreat for over a week, and if people were still all aflutter with Henry and Evan—or Heaven, as we’d been so creatively dubbed—I hadn’t been sure. Our TVs, telephones, and laptops had remained off since we’d landed—which, by the way, had been incredibly smooth.
My fear of flying was still firmly intact, but my faith in Evan kept the panic at bay.
One hand massaged my balls as he drove me closer to release with every swirl of his tongue. While it had taken some time for Evan to finally go down on me, it’d quickly become his favorite pastime. I’d woken up with his mouth around my cock more often than not over the last week. This morning being no exception.
I was so damn close to coming when the jarring sound of tiny fists on the door distracted me. “Cookie? Are you awake yet?”
Awake and halfway to my first orgasm of the day if she would back away from the fucking door.
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep from flying off the bed, snatching open the door, and tossing her my credit card to stay at one of the nearby hotels. I loved Robin more than life itself, but a family vacation wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I’d suggested this trip to Evan. And this kind of interruption was the prime example of why. However, I needed Carter to accompany me in case Evan and I wanted to leave the house. And, after Robin’s latest incident, I couldn’t chance leaving her alone again.
On the plane ride over, Carter and I had broached the topic with her of doing another thirty-day inpatient program at a new rehab facility up in Chicago. When she reluctantly agreed, I was elated. Even Carter looked visibly relieved, his face softening as he took her hand in his paw.
Carter and Robin were interesting—and surprisingly not gross—together. They weren’t lovey-dovey, thank the Lord Baby Jesus. Really, they just seemed to quietly fight all the time. I had no idea how they liked each other with that much bickering, but every night, Carter’s bed remained empty and Robin’s door—thankfully on the other side of the house—remained locked. Clearly, it worked for them.
“I’m up,” I ground out.
“Oh good! What time do you guys want to eat dinner tonight? Carter and I are going to hit up the grocery store so I can get a few things.”