Falcon Falls Security Boxed Set: Books 1-3, page 50
He was quiet for a moment, the wind rustling through the trees the only sound around them. Ella breathed in the cold night air and sighed. When Jesse’s hand slid along her hip beneath his jacket, she opened her eyes.
“Stop. This is why I am so angry, Jesse. The hot and cold behavior.”
“Seems to me that’s the only way you and I know how to be when we’re around each other. We’re either angry or aroused. And anger more often than not leads to arousal.” Well, hell, that’s exactly what she’d been thinking for years. “We need to meet in the middle, don’t you think?”
“Define middle.” She tipped her head to the side, waiting for him to reveal more.
“I’m not sure if ‘happy’ is quite the middle, but it’s a place I’d sure like to be.” He looked to the ground for a moment. “With you.”
Happy?
He worked his attention back to her face, and she sealed her eyes closed.
“Ella, look at me, please,” he said, softer this time. “I know you’re mad. And tonight was . . . hard. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” His pause had her opening her eyes. “But I wasn’t acting.”
She shook her head, anger fighting its way back into her heart at his words, which was most likely not what he’d expected to happen. “Don’t you dare give me hope, Jesse McAdams. Don’t you dare.”
She shoved his hand from her hip, and he backed up a step. “Ella Mae.”
“Don’t Ella Mae me. Don’t say anything.” She swiped the backs of her hands over her cheeks, trying to remove the traitorous tears. “And don’t tell me there really was a photo you kept of me in Iraq. Or that you gave me this”—she lifted her hand to show the heart-shaped diamond ring—“because I’ve always had your heart even when you were gone.” She turned toward the woods and palmed her forehead, her body shaking. “Maybe it won’t be tomorrow. Or the day after. But the day will come when you cut and run. It’s as inevitable as death.” She was close to her breaking point, her heart teetering perilously on the edge of despair, and she didn’t want him to witness that. “Happy is a place you’ll only steal from me.”
When he remained quiet, she slowly turned to face him, finding he’d closed the distance yet again.
“You wrecked me. Destroyed me long before tonight. And now I have this chance to go to Paris and finally get you out of my head, and we’re going as husband and wife. God hates me. He must really hate me.” Her voice gave out, and her knees nearly did as well.
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.
She squeezed that frustrating lump down her throat. “Maybe that’s because there’s nothing left to say. Maybe we’re both broken, and we can only ever exist together in that world of anger. Or the one of lust.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IN THE AIR – THREE HOURS LATER
“I know you’re not okay, but . . . are you okay?” Savanna softly asked from her seat next to Jesse on Carter’s private jet. “You and I are friends too, don’t forget that.”
Jesse gripped the chair arms, tipped his head back against the leather headrest, and closed his eyes. He was worn out. He’d barely slept since Thatcher appeared in his workshop a few days ago, and now it was zero one hundred hours, and he was on his way to Tirana as a “married” man. He was anything but okay.
“You should be with Ella,” he replied without opening his eyes. If he were to look at Savanna right now, she’d see a whole lot more than she bargained for. She was a woman whose every action came from her heart, and he knew she’d want to console him. But this mess was his own making, and Ella was on this plane jetting toward God-knew-what because of him. He hadn’t earned an ounce of sympathy from Savanna or anyone.
“I’m where I need to be right now.” Savanna’s Southern accent made her words sound much sweeter than he deserved, and he’d be an ass for ignoring her efforts to comfort him.
He opened his eyes when she gave his arm a light squeeze. And the first thing his eyes latched on to was Ella, more precisely her back. She was sitting across from Sydney at the back of the jet near the bedroom, which was currently unoccupied since everyone aboard had turned down the opportunity to get some private shut-eye.
Jesse knew one way he’d like to make use of that bedroom on his wedding night, real or not, but he had to get his head back on straight and not lose himself to temptation.
Anger or lust?
Look what giving in to lust had cost him in New York—another piece of his soul. He’d not only hurt Ella by giving her a weekend of nothing more than sex, but he’d made her angry. They’d swung from one end of the lust-anger spectrum to the other in no time. Same as always.
Trying to get comfortable, which should have been easy on the fancy jet, Jesse crossed one black work boot over his knee and held his ankle. He’d changed from his tux before heading to the airport, but Ella still had on her thin, white silk gown and cowgirl boots.
“I appreciate your support,” he finally said, then shut his mouth, fighting the impulse to tell Savanna he didn’t need her and wanted to be left alone.
In all honesty, he did need her. And he didn’t want to be alone.
“I messed up. Pretty damn badly.” Jesse’s voice nearly broke like Savanna’s famous brownie brittle that cracked apart in his palm with the slightest touch. That was also how his heart felt right about now.
“Messed up how?”
Jesse rolled his head to the side to view Savanna. “Well, there’s a lot I’ve messed up over the years, I suppose. But at this present moment, I was referring to when I slipped and told Ella I loved her for the first time in front of everyone, and she thinks it was an act.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and set it on his thigh. “And she doesn’t believe I carry her picture around with me.” His palm rested atop the worn leather as he thought about the three photos he had of Ella inside.
She’d sent the first photo along with a letter during his initial deployment to Iraq at the start of the war. It was a stunning profile shot of her at nineteen, standing in a field of sunflowers, wearing her cowgirl hat. That was the most worn out of the three in his wallet since he’d had it for sixteen years.
The second picture he’d taken himself around ten or so years ago at a holiday party back home. Ella had been belly laughing at something A.J. had said, and she looked so carefree and happy that Jesse couldn’t help but capture the candid moment. He loved to see her smile, to see her perfectly imperfect front teeth catch her lip too.
But that last one, he thought with a sigh, was of them together on their last day in New York. They’d gone into an arcade and acted like ten-year-olds playing games, and then they’d slid into a photo booth and made goofy faces. He’d insisted on keeping the copy of the three images that their five bucks had earned them. Best money he’d spent that weekend. That and the second pack of condoms they’d needed.
“She doesn’t know what to think,” Savanna said after a pause as if realizing Jesse needed a moment to collect his thoughts. “Ella, um, told me about the fight earlier. Well, she told me that she yelled at you. She feels bad about it. Regret might not be the exact word she used, but I swear that woman gives me whiplash when it comes to you. Most likely because she’s as hot and cold toward you as you seem to be toward her.”
Anger and arousal . . . the only two emotions he and Ella were capable of when they were together. Her words. The last words she’d spoken to him before walking back to the party, alone. Jesse was unable to shake them from his head or the idea that she didn’t think that “middle place”—happiness—was possible for them.
Because I’m a screwup, aren’t I? Those deep, ugly and familiar roots constricted around him like he was stuck inside a Venus flytrap.
“Ella may worry your vows were only part of the show, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
“No?” He shot her a puzzled look.
“Because it gives you a chance to tell her how you feel again. And this time without an audience. Maybe after you’ve earned back her trust, she’ll believe you too.”
How was he supposed to earn her trust back when he wasn’t so sure he could trust himself not to mess up again?
“Do you think I can change?” he found himself asking Savanna.
She patted his hand. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what I think. It only matters if you believe it’s possible.” She pointed to the bedroom. “Why don’t you two talk?”
“I don’t think she wants to be alone with me. Or hear what I have to say, for that matter.”
“She does, even if she won’t admit it.” Savanna lifted her palm. “Plus, I have a feeling if you two go in that room, maybe you’ll—”
“Savanna,” he chided, then lowered his voice. “In your romance books, what would happen if two people, one of whom hates the other, were alone in that room?” I’ve officially lost it. Romance novels?
Though it might be nice to be a fictional character for a day. According to Savanna, “real romance” required that the good guys win and there was always a happily-ever . . . something or other.
“Well,” she said, turning in her seat to fully face him, “she, the heroine, doesn’t actually hate him. She’s hurt. But more than that, she’s scared and frustrated.”
Her words were jabs to his head and heart.
“And the guy, the hero, is misunderstood. He’s kept secrets from her for years. But everything he did was because he didn’t believe he deserved this woman. So, in trying not to break her heart by staying away from her, he wound up doing exactly that.” Savanna’s eyes shifted to her fiancé. Was she remembering their own story? Their journey to find each other?
“And then what?” Jesse could guess how this story ended, but he needed to hear it. To believe real life, his life, could imitate art.
“The guy realizes that not being with her is far worse than anything else, and he finds a way to win her back, whatever the cost.” She paused. “Throw in some miscommunication. A fight or two to add some angst. And, well, you know, to ramp up the sexual tension.”
We have the angst and tension down pat.
“And then poof. All is right in the world. They’d get married or have a baby. Probably both.” Savanna’s cheeks grew pink as she whispered the last part.
Well, we’re kind of married already. And the thought of Ella carrying his child . . .
“That bedroom has magical powers, by the way.” Savanna tipped her chin in that direction.
“I don’t want to know what you and Griffin did in the bedroom on your last trip together.” Well, it was less a trip and more to take down the bad guys hunting Savanna. “You’re like my sister, and it’s bad enough I have to know Rory’s trying to make a baby with a SEAL.”
“Would it be better if he was Army?” Savanna asked teasingly. There was a bit of a Navy–Army rivalry between the guys. Okay, “a bit” was an understatement.
“Maybe, but just barely.” He peered Ella’s way, seeing that she had moved to a different seat. Still by the bedroom but facing him now.
“Pretty sure that’s how A.J. feels about you, and he doesn’t even know that you and his sister . . .” Her words trailed off, and she audibly swallowed, likely realizing she wasn’t supposed to know that he and Ella had slept together.
“It’s okay,” he said while returning his focus to Savanna. “I figured if Rory knows, you know what happened in New York too.”
“If New York’s not a prequel for your story, then I don’t know what is.” Savanna, the optimist with the big heart, patted her thighs, then stood. “Well, I’ll let you mull over your plans. But I wouldn’t wait too long. Once we arrive in Albania, you’ll be gearing up to operate.”
Right. Griffin won the coin toss, so he’d be staying on the jet in the terminal with Ella and Savanna, and Jesse couldn’t help but wonder if Griffin had somehow rigged the flip.
Griffin was as determined and stubborn about Savanna’s safety as Jesse was about Ella’s.
Savanna laughed when Jesse mock-saluted her as if saying “aye, aye, captain,” then made her way to Griffin, who met her in the aisle and roped her into his big arms.
Griffin rested his chin atop Savanna’s head and sent Jesse a look that said—What she said, do it.
Jesse uncrossed his ankle from over his knee and pocketed his wallet. Maybe he could try and get some rack time?
But as soon as his lids sealed out the light, all he could think about was taking his “wife” into the bedroom and making love to her on their wedding night. And no rules this time.
He’d kiss that sweet, sassy mouth before sinking to his knees to lift the skirt of her dress and pepper kisses across the exposed skin of her stomach. Then he’d use his teeth to slide her panties down those beautifully tanned legs, kiss his way back up, and devour her like the starved man he was. Memories of that weekend in New York started flipping through his mind, each one kicking up his heart rate another notch. The way she moaned when he played with her nipples. The sight of her reddened ass cheeks in his firm grip as he took her from behind. How those perfect tits of hers bounced as she rode him like it was her damn job. She was so fucking sexy, insatiable, perfect. And he wanted all of that again, now.
He needed to stop his thoughts before he shot his load right there, but when he opened his eyes and peered at Ella’s beautiful face, he knew he wouldn’t survive the rest of the flight without releasing his tension. More importantly, he wouldn’t be able to operate without relief first.
As much as he’d love to pull her into that bedroom, it wouldn’t be right to mess with her mind like that. No, he had to be certain he was capable of change and that it was possible for them to reach “the middle” of that spectrum, happiness.
Jesse did a quick headcount to make sure no one had gone to catch some shut-eye during his chat with Savanna, and once he verified everyone was in the cabin, he started down the aisle only to find himself stopping just short of Ella’s seat.
As if sensing Jesse’s presence, Ella opened her eyes, and he hoped she’d see the apology in his gaze. So many sorrys for so many reasons hung on the tip of his tongue.
But if he stood there any longer, he’d lose his moral compass and drag her into his arms. Carry her into the bedroom and rip the side seam of that white dress to expose her thighs and see if she had white panties beneath it.
“You okay?” Ella whispered, snapping him free from yet another fantasy.
“Bathroom,” he mumbled, knowing there was another restroom near the cockpit, but the one attached to the bedroom had a shower and would decrease the chances of someone hearing him jacking off. Not how he pictured his wedding night with Ella, not that he’d spent much time over the years picturing it. In fact, he never thought it’d happen. And certainly not because she was in danger.
“Ohh . . . kay.” She knew what that “oh” did to him, damn it. The way she licked her lips before rounding her mouth and releasing the sound made his dick twitch in anticipation of her dropping to her knees, sliding his hard length between her lips, and sucking him dry.
Either the twitch of his dick was noticeable even behind the thick material of his khakis, or her thoughts were in line with his because her gaze fell straight to his crotch. And at that, he knotted his hands at his sides to keep from doing something crazy.
Forcing himself to look away from her, he went into the bedroom to get himself off. In the bathroom of Carter’s jet. Good God, what was wrong with him?
Jesse eyed the bed, knowing he wouldn’t take Ella for the first time in three years on Carter’s plane, even if she were to walk into the room and strip down to her panties like she’d done before.
He looked away from the bed, feeling a bit . . . hopeless, then went into the connecting bathroom. The shower was larger than he’d expected but definitely not big enough for two people, though he’d be willing to test it out with Ella. They’d made good use of their shower in New York, and that thought alone took his cock from partially to painfully hard.
“Fuck it,” he said, undoing his pants just enough to free himself.
He braced a hand against the door and began stroking his length, not giving a damn that he was thirty thousand feet in the air with his teammates only two doors away.
This woman made his blood pressure go through the fucking roof when she was around him.
The number of times he’d had to cut and run in her presence to “handle” himself so that he didn’t toss her over his shoulder and throw her onto his bed in the last three years had been one too many.
Letting out a groan, he swiped his thumb across the head of his cock, using the bead of precum as he slid his hand from root to tip, all the while wondering what it would feel like to have Ella’s pouty lips wrapped around him instead and realizing it would likely never happen.
“Ella.” He murmured her name a few more times, unable to stop himself.
He let his head fall to the door in frustration. How could he not have committed to her after they’d slept together? How had he let her go, told her to live her life, watched her almost marry another man when all he’d ever wanted was her?
A moment later, he went completely still at the realization he wasn’t alone in the bedroom.
He shifted his painfully hard cock back into his pants and zipped up before bringing his ear to the door to listen closer.
Did Savanna and Griffin not know he was back there? They didn’t do a headcount first and check like he’d done?
Soft murmurs, the sounds of sex, were just audible enough for him to hear but too faint for anyone in the cabin outside the bedroom to most likely make out.
But he didn’t hear a male’s voice . . . Ella?
His heart went into overdrive as he opened the door inward and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Ella on the bed, the skirt of her dress bunched around her waist. But what had him almost swallowing his tongue was the sight of her thrumming her clit, panties pushed down her thighs, with her gaze locked on him.
