Grounded (Up In The Air #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Mr. Playful

We lingered over dinner with the strange pair. Tristan ordered food even though we’d all already finished eating. He made himself right at home without asking, joking and talking to Frankie and me. I liked him. A lot. I liked them both. They were fun.

James was quiet and a little tense at my back, but he made no move to leave.

When we did finally leave after hours of talking, Frankie gave me a big hug. Tristan tried to, as well, but James was there to block him, not even trying to be subtle about it.

Tristan was unfazed. He grinned that wicked grin at me, inclining his head. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Bianca. You are an absolute delight. I’ll be seeing you.”

James didn’t speak until we were in the back of his limo driving home. “You liked him,” he said, his tone bland, but I didn’t believe that tone for a second.

“I liked them both,” I said, rubbing his arm. “Your friends are very nice. It’s nice to see that you have some more good ones. They’re starting to outnumber all of the evil bitches I keep meeting that you felt the need to sleep with.”

He completely ignored the last part of my statement, still focused on Tristan.

“He’s a Dom, as I’m sure you picked up. Purely BD without the SM. You were attracted to him.”

Uh oh. “Well, I’m in love with you. I like him, just like I said. As a friend. He’s an attractive man, I can’t deny that, but that’s it, James. You can’t think that every Dom I meet is going to have some impossible pull on me, just because you did.”

And it was actually that easy. A few reassurances and he relaxed back into his smiling, amenable persona. I thought that boded well for us. The little things were already resolving themselves with ease.

We met Danika at the tourist gallery of the Cavendish Hotel & Casino the next morning. Danika managed both the L.A. and Vegas galleries, which was especially impressive since she looked to still be in her early to mid-twenties.

With all of the talk the night before, my mind started trying to pair Danika and the physically imposing Tristan up the moment I saw her, and it was almost disconcerting to picture the two of them together. He was so massive and muscular that he could have been an MMA fighter. She, on the other hand, was the epitome of delicate grace.

She was maybe five foot seven, with smooth, straight, pitch-black hair that fell to her mid-back. She was thin, but she definitely had curves in all of the right places. She had a pale complexion, but her heritage was very obviously mixed. Part of the mix was Asian, but the rest was anybody’s guess. At least part Caucasian, by her clear gray eyes.

Tristan had been right. No one could deny that she was exquisite.

She was dressed for business in a pencil skirt and a tidy dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She wore flats, I realized as she stepped out from behind the podium as we approached. I would have pegged her as a stiletto girl just because she was so painfully poised. I saw in an instant why she didn’t, though.

She had just the slightest hitch to her step as she approached us with a lovely smile. Some old injury, I guessed. It was the most graceful limp I’d ever seen, as though she’d just absorbed the injury and made it a part of her, neither emphasizing or hiding it. That seemingly effortless gait told me a lot about the woman. She looked delicate, but there was steel in her.

“So nice to finally meet you, Bianca. I’ve been privileged to get the distinguished honor of being your first big fan. More will come, though, I can assure you.”

“Hey, now,” James said, shaking her hand with a smile. “Don’t discount my adoration of her work. Remember who discovered her.”

She inclined her head. “Touché, James. Please, follow me. We have a lot to discuss.”

We sat at a large conference room at the back of the swank gallery. Danika pulled out a huge leather binder, and I only realized that it was a portfolio of my work when she flipped it open.

“Let me start by saying that art is my life, and I simply adore your work. It is, however, a rather eclectic mix of paintings. This can be handled in a number of ways. My personal preference would be to divide all of the different themes by rooms, since we have so many paintings to work with, and we will be utilizing every room in the L.A space for the showing.”

I nodded. “That sounds good.”

She looked a little nonplussed, as though she’d been expecting an argument. “Well, that was easy. If all of the issues are that easy to resolve, we can schedule a showing for next week!”

The entire meeting went similarly. Danika had very helpful suggestions about all of the things I needed to green light for the showing, and I was more than happy to defer to her expertise on something that I was a complete novice at.

She was swift and professional, covering details that I hadn’t even considered, until she was satisfied that she had the showing thoroughly mapped out.

James stayed reasonably silent throughout the meeting, which I appreciated. If he had taken over, as he did with so many things, it wouldn’t have felt like it was mine. But working with Danika, seeing every step in the process without his interference, it began to feel real, like I had a career here, instead of a hobby that was being funded by my rich boyfriend.

We went to lunch with Danika after we finished. Sandra, the assistant manager of the Vegas gallery who worked directly under Danika, joined us.

She was a small, brown-haired woman with brown eyes and a rather austere demeanor. If I had to guess, I’d have said she was in her late thirties.

I’d completely forgotten about Danika’s limp until she was moving away from the table to use the restroom. Sandra murmured something about needing to check on the gallery, scurrying off.

“What happened to Danika’s foot?” I asked James.

“It’s her knee, I believe. And I don’t know. She never talks about it, but I’ve gotten the distinct impression that it was somehow Tristan’s fault.”

I frowned. That sounded beyond ominous.

We wrapped up a productive and pleasant morning with Danika, setting up a date the following week, when she swore she’d be well into the thick of planning the showing. I was excited and elated when we parted. The crazy dream that was my painting career felt like it was shaping into something real and substantial.

James gave the staff at his house the afternoon off, and we spent hours swimming in his ridiculous pool. The thing was obnoxious, with fake mountains and fountains, and four different pools, and yes, a grotto underneath one of the falls.

“I didn’t realize we were staying at the Playboy mansion,” I teased him.

He grimaced. “This is actually a part of the house that I did not design. It’s a long story, but I delegated this part of the design to my casino team, and since they knew I’d have to have some promotional parties here, this is what they did. I was not too happy when I saw it, but it has served its purpose. If I’m out of town and the casino needs to throw a pool party for some bigwigs, they do it here.”


I wrinkled my nose at him. I knew the Vegas scene well enough, even if it wasn’t really my scene. “I hope everything’s been disinfected.”

He tapped my nose. “Yes, of course. You know it drives me crazy when you do that with your nose. It makes you look so damn cute.”

I tapped his nose. “Don’t call me cute,” I told him.

His nostrils flared, rather sexily, I thought.

I was lying on a cushioned lounger in a white bikini I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in public while he rubbed sunblock all over my body. He was not efficient about the process, rubbing more of the parts inside of the tiny bikini than out of it, and grinning the entire time.

“You don’t have to work at all today?” I asked him. He’d worked the day before, but made no mention of going in that day.

“I’m taking a day off. I want to f*ck you in broad daylight. I want to spread you out and strip you bare under the sun.”

That made me squirm in my seat. I’d had my hopes when he was dismissing his staff, but now it was certain. We weren’t just out here to swim.

“You’re going to get me sunburned in some painful places,” I predicted.

He held up the bottle of sunblock he was using. “I’ve got it covered. Come on now, you know me better.”

He was thorough, but slow as molasses as he covered me in the stuff. He even spent extra time on my feet, rubbing and kneading until I moaned in pleasure. He was good with his hands in every way imaginable.

The second leisurely rubbed on coat of sunblock was completely unnecessary, of course, but he did it all the same. Only James could turn sun protection into foreplay. I was writhing before he made it back up to my inner thighs.

His sunblock coated fingers teased around my sex, fingering my tiny string bikini bottoms, but he pulled them back with a wicked little smile. “For external use only, Love. I guess you’ll have to settle for my tongue.”

He pulled the strings on both of my hips loose with his teeth. I buried my hands in his hair as he buried his face between my legs.

It wasn’t his usual oral technique, avoiding my * at first to thrust his tongue as deep inside of me as it would go. It felt drugging—it felt good, but when he finally moved up to my * and sucked with a vengeance I came hard, gasping his name.

He moved up my body in a flash, untying my top, and moving my leg across his torso, positioning it diagonally with my ankle on his shoulder, turning me on my side, and straddling my other leg. He poised himself at my entrance for a brief moment.

“F*cking me sideways,” I told him breathlessly.

He grinned and thrust in hard. “Every which way, until we’re sated or dead, Love.”

He pulled out slowly, dragging himself along every perfect nerve, playing me like an instrument, then pounded in again. His size, and the unrelenting position, made each thrust border on painful. He repeated the torture, again and again, and I came with a ragged cry torn out of me.

He didn’t stop, just pounded faster. He bottomed out and came inside of me with a rough shout. I loved it, absolutely relished the moments when he lost it like that.

He pushed my legs apart, shifted me onto my back, and moved into me, kissing me languorously. He pulled out of me slowly, drawing it out, until I wanted him again as though we hadn’t just made love.

Once he’d separated his body from mine, he moved flush against me again.

“Wrap your arms and legs around me,” he ordered against my ear.

I did, my body obeying but my mind still in that soft dreamy place that only he could take me. He picked me up, rising slowly.

It was only as I was flying through the air that I realized his intent. I hit the water with a surprised little yelp. I was glaring as I surfaced.

He just grinned, diving in after me.

We played in the pool for a long time. Like children, I thought, only we were skinny dipping in broad daylight. I loved every second of it. I thought that playful James might just be my favorite.

He pulled me against him, kissing me hotly, and then thrust me away. “Run,” he told me with a wicked grin.

I made it just to the edge of the pool and one step out before he caught me, yanking me back into the water and against him, his front flush against my back. He bit my neck and rubbed against me. His rock hard erection poked hard into my backside.

“You’re insatiable,” I told him, my voice breathless.

“Yes,” he breathed into my ear. “I am. Now run.”

I made it out of the pool, across the concrete, and into the grass that time. It was only as he was tackling me onto my stomach that I realized it was exactly what he’d wanted, exactly what he’d planned. He was entering me from behind rather roughly within seconds.

He f*cked me in the grass, on hands and knees, pumping into me with a purpose.

“Say it, Bianca,” he ordered into my ear, his voice so low and gruff.

I came apart, but not enough to keep from saying it. “I’m yours, James. Only yours.”

He continued the jarring rhythm while my body squeezed him convulsively, as shivers of pleasure wracked my body. He kept going until every little shocking wave had passed. He moaned low in his throat when he let himself go.

My hands and knees were raw and grass stained when James carried me back to the pool. I couldn’t imagine that his were in much better shape.

He tossed me back in the pool. Even knowing it was coming, I let out a little shriek before I hit the water. When I resurfaced, James was striding towards the house, a towel slung low across his hips.

“Where are you going?” I called out.

“To check in with the other man in your life,” he called back.

I thought that was the sweetest thing in the world. And so very James. Nothing could soften me more than him understanding my bond with Stephan, and understand it, he did. He always knew which strings to pull. Manipulative, perceptive, wonderful man.

When he returned, he moved straight to the lounging sofa where we’d discarded all of our clothing. He pulled on his low-slung gray swim trunks and grabbed my bikini, moving back to the pool with a purpose.

He cornered me in the pool.

I kissed him. “Thank you for being so understanding about Stephan. That means everything to me.”

“I have nothing but love for that man. If I have to share you with someone, I’m glad that it’s him. And I will do anything it takes to stay on his good side. I know that a happy Stephan is a happy Bianca.” He gave me one hard kiss and began to slip me back into the tiny series of strings that he called a bikini.

“The guys wanted to hang out,” he continued. “So I told them to come over. Not sure how he did it, but Stephan turned the whole thing into an impromptu pool party. I don’t even know who’s coming. I may have met my match. That man is cunning.”

That made me smile real big. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black…

“I need to go put on a cover-up or something,” I told him. “If we’re having a party, I’d rather not be showing this much skin.”

He eyed me up, running a tongue over his teeth in a luscious display. “Yeah, I agree. I’d rather not share this much of your skin with company. Especially since I don’t even know who’s coming. I can’t even tell you the havoc that will wreak with security. A last minute party with no guest list.” He shook his head, then smiled suddenly. “I guess that’s why I pay them so well. Now let’s go get you a cover-up.”

Stephan and Javier arrived first, not even thirty minutes later. They were both already in their swimsuits, shirtless and smiling.

I eyed the three hot, half-naked men around me. “What did I ever do to get so lucky?” I asked.

Stephan flashed a dimple at me, and that dimple was always mischievous. He picked me up, running through the house with a happy shout. He never had been able to behave himself around water.

Unlike James, Stephan jumped in still holding me, rather than throwing me. I had a sudden but clear epiphany about the two major men in my life, and just how alike they were in so many strange ways, both so relentlessly, affectionately physical, and emotionally open for me, if on different levels.

Stephan didn’t let me go even when were both in the water, just cradling me to him and smiling.

“Who did you invite to this?” I asked him suspiciously. I could just tell by the look on his face that he was in an ornery mood. His huge grin at the question only confirmed it.

“Wrong question, Buttercup.”

I pulled his hair lightly. “What’s the right question, then?” I asked. I knew this game.

“Who didn’t I invite?”

I heard a bark of a laugh behind me, and craned my head around to see James striding back to the house. “If it’s going to be that sort of a party, I’ll at least have it catered,” he muttered as he walked. “And I don’t suppose a house full of pilots and flight attendants won’t want an open bar.”

I had to laugh. He’d assessed the situation accurately. If Stephan had sent out a blanket invite to everyone he knew, we were a few minutes away from having a house full of pilots and flight attendants, and they would be drinking.

The first few people to arrive were complete strangers to me, and it felt beyond awkward meeting new people wearing a tiny bikini, and a tiny, sopping wet cover-up, but I tried to play it off.

I shot Stephan a glare. “Do you even know who they are?”

He shrugged. “I think they’re pilots. Murphy’s friends? They look vaguely familiar.

James dove into the pool, his form perfect. He swam straight to me, staying underwater until he reached me. He grabbed me around the waist and dragged me from where I was huddled with Stephan. He cornered me against the side of the pool. “Stephan gets to play host tonight, since this was his idea, and I planned to spend my entire day touching you, so I’m damn well going to do it.”

I had no problem with that. I just smiled at him.