Flight Risk

“Didn’t want them seeing you like this.” He slides his fingers across my bare shoulder. I hadn’t even realized the robe slipped off a little. “Come away from the bedroom or I’ll never get you fed.” He pulls me past a living room with a black grand piano in it, and into a dining room. The table is loaded with so many pastries that I think it would take me weeks to eat them all.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I tell him, my mouth already watering.

He pulls a chair out for me and I sit down. “Let me,” he says, picking up a plate. I watch him move around the table, picking up the delicacies and putting them on the plate. His dress shirt is now untucked, and I can tell it’s been some time since he’s gotten to shave. He looks even more handsome like this. And he also seems more relaxed.

“You owned that plane, didn’t you?” Pretty sure that was how everything happened so fast.

He smiles at me. “I own a lot of planes.”

I study him as he places the plate in front of me. Since I’ve come face to face with him, he keeps taking care of me.

“You must be really rich. You just don’t—”

“Look the type?” he asks, cutting me off. No, that wasn’t what I was going to say, but now that he did I’m thinking about that. I guess he doesn’t. He seems a bit rough around the edges.

“I kind of meant because of how much you take care of me—making my plate, checking to see how I’m doing, calming me in a panic attack. Holding me. That’s not normal rich-people behavior.”

I never saw my father or mother be as doting to each other as Lincoln has been to me. I’ve never really seen it with their friends either when they come over with their spouses. He just doesn’t fit the mold of the rich people I’ve grown up around.

“I was in the military for a while,” he tells me, as if reading my mind. I gasp when he picks me up easily and places me on his lap. “Try this.”

He picks up a little pastry puff and brings it to my lips. I open my mouth and he slides it in. I bite into it, and warm, sweet cream fills my mouth, making me moan. It’s wonderful.

“I might come off cold and angry to those around you, but I will never be that way with you,” he vows, and I can see the truth in his eyes. “I will spend my life protecting you, and that includes anyone who dares to look at your ass.”

I can’t help but smile at his words. I nod, understanding the possessive need he has. Because I feel it, too. I couldn’t stand the thought of another woman looking at him like that. Or possibly having his attention.

He feeds me another puff, and I moan again. Lincoln growls at the sound this time, and my eyes snap to his.

“Are you not hungry?” I ask as I lick my lips to get any cream that might have escaped.

“I am.” His eyes are trained on my mouth.

“Do you want a bite?” I reach for something on the plate.

“Not of that.” His voice is deeper now. His mouth comes my ear. He pulls my earlobe between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth and causing me to wiggle on his lap. I still when I feel his erection digging into my bottom. “Am I still coating your thighs, or did you wipe me off?”

“Still there,” I tell him as he trails kisses down my bare shoulder. My eyes close in bliss.

“Open.” I feel something press against my lips and do as he tells me. This time a sweet coconut taste fills my mouth. He keeps kissing me. “Want more?” he murmurs against my skin.

“More,” I plead, but not of the food. Of him. Of that mouth of his. It does the most wonderful things to me.

“More what?” he asks. He pulls a little at my robe, and cool air greets one breast. I open my eyes to see him run his tongue along my nipple. I can’t pull my eyes away from the sight.

“More of you,” I groan as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. The feeling is bliss, and I arch my back a little, wanting to be closer to him. “Lincoln, please, I…” I start to shift and move around, needing release.

“Say you’re mine and I’ll give you everything.”

“I just want you. Not everything,” I admit. I know what it’s like to be given everything. I’ve lived that life. I want someone to be just mine.

“I’m already yours, sweet pea,” he says, taking a playful bite of my nipple. Our eyes lock.

“Then I’m yours.”

The last word is barely out of my mouth and he’s standing with me in his arms.