Quick & Reckless, page 9
Gail Morris had never been an impulsive woman, and yet lately she was showing signs of being a bit of a daredevil. Not base jumping off a skyscraper daredevil, but moving across the world to a new country and then getting married after only dating for six months kind of daredevil. These were the kinds of risks Warren wasn’t even sure he would make, and yet his mother had. And apparently it was all working out. She had a new life, new friends, a busy social calendar and fiancé. He tried to talk with her twice a month, and each and every time they spoke, she seemed happier than he’d ever heard her. He recalled the phone conversation he’d had with his mum many months ago when she’d announced she was getting married.
“But how well do you even know the guy, Mum?” he’d asked, having had to sit down and grab a beer in order to process the news.
“I know everything about him. He’s got a daughter, Silvie, and a granddaughter, Ava, so not only am I gaining the most incredible man in my life who loves me madly, but I’m also gaining a daughter and a granddaughter. She’s a newborn. Only three weeks old and just incredible.”
She was getting off track. “How did you meet him?” Warren asked, tipping up his beer and gazing out his bungalow window at the turquoise water that made up the South Pacific.
“At a wine tasting on one of the Gulf Islands.”
“At another one of your Knit One, Take a Shot getaways?” he asked blandly.
“It’s Knit One, Drink Two,” she replied, clearly unimpressed with his joke. “And yes. He spotted me across a crowded tasting room and came right up to ask if he could buy me dinner.”
“What’d you say?”
“I said no, of course. I was with my friends. I wasn’t about to abandon them for some man. But then he offered to buy us all dinner. Said he wouldn’t even join us, but that he just wanted to pay for my meal.”
“This guys sounds iffy, Mum … ”
“Oh, be quiet. Anyway, it was sweet, not iffy. Of course we agreed. And then I asked him what he wanted in return, thinking he’d hand me his hotel room key card or something. Since it’s been a while and he’s fucking gorgeous, I was up for a romp.”
Warren groaned and made a face. The last thing he needed to envision was his mother having a root to pay off her dinner debt to a man she’d just met. He was about to stop her when she cut off his protest.
“He said he’d like to take me to dinner another night. Turned out we both live in Vancouver. We exchanged numbers, and he took me out the following weekend to the most incredible restaurant. The Fig. We’ll all have to go when you’re here again. I had the West Coast Cioppino. Amazing.”
“You’re getting off track again, Mum,” Warren grumbled. A fish jumped right in front of his window, followed by two more. He made his way out to the deck and slipped into his hammock.
“Right!” Gail piped. “Anyway, we’ve been inseparable ever since. He really is an amazing man. Sweet as. Spoils me rotten and loves me more than I’ve ever been loved before.”
Well, shit, not one to normally get sentimental or enjoy a tale of romance, Warren had to admit this story was pretty sweet. And to hear the happiness in his mother’s voice tightened his chest even more. All he’d ever wanted was her happiness, and if this Johnathan guy could provide that, then he couldn’t be all bad. And, lord knows, Warren’s own love life had been in the toilet as of late. Between the demands of work and the fact that he hadn’t been able to get Silver out of his head for the last year, Warren’s luck in the romance department was practically zilch.
They’d ended the call with talk of wedding plans and that Warren would definitely come for the special day. He’d even walk her down the aisle. His mother had probed him for work information and news on his love life, but he remained vague on both. He hated keeping secrets from his mother. She’d always insisted they be honest with each other; it was just the two of them against the world, so she needed him to be straight with her. He always had been. But a few years ago, when he’d discovered the huge secrets his mother had been keeping from him, things changed, and suddenly Warren wasn’t so forthcoming with information. He still needed to address these secrets with his mum, needed to ask why. Not that this trip was an ideal time to do that, but he couldn’t keep his own secrets hidden for much longer. She’d have to know sooner or later what he and his brothers were working on.
Warren glanced back out the window of the plane. His head immediately went back to Silver. She said he could call her the next time he was in town, and as the jet drew closer to Vancouver, his phone itched in his palm and his fingers grew tingly with the need to dial her number. Would she remember him? Would she still be single? Would she want to see him? God, please, yes.
About twenty-five minutes later, the jet landed and the seatbelt light turned off. Passengers stood to gather their bags, hustling and bustling off the aircraft as fast as they could. And even though he was in first class and co-owner of the airline, he wasn’t the first to exit. He was always the last.
Warren still couldn’t believe his brothers had talked him into buying the airline. Pacific Wave Airlines, a small, eight-jet fleet out of New Zealand, used to be Blue Coast Skies but had been put up for sale at a decent price. Tate and Gavin, knowing a good deal when they saw one, had swooped in. Now, Three-Mac Enterprises was the proud owner of Pacific Wave Airlines, a small, exclusive airline flying routes from Australia, New Zealand and French Polynesia to the West Coast of North America.
Pacific Wave Airlines: Bringing the people of the Pacific together.
He shook his head as he stood up and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. Even though it was his bloody airline, he still didn’t trust his laptop to go into the overhead compartment or under the belly of the plane.
“Did you enjoy your flight, Mr. McAllister?” asked Kendall, the perky little Kiwi flight attendant, batting her eyelashes at him. Kendall had been after him for a while, flirting and paying him extra attention whenever Warren took a flight. And she was cute. Hot in fact, with a nice round face, dark red hair and soft brown eyes. A real looker. But for some reason, Warren just wasn’t interested. His phone burned in his back pocket as he waited for the aisle to clear. He needed to text Silver.
No.
He needed to call Silver. He was going to call her. She deserved a real phone call. Even if it was still a booty call, she deserved to be called, not just sent a simple “U UP?” text.
“Mr. McAllister?” Kendall asked again. “Did you enjoy your flight?”
Shit.
He nodded as he made his way down the aisle toward the door. “I did, Kendall, thank you very much.”
Her smile was big and wide. “You uh … you sticking around Vancouver for a while? I have twenty-four hours here until we fly out again. We could … ”
Warren flashed her a reluctant smile. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She was a nice girl and meant no harm; he just wasn’t interested. He’d never been a fan of mixing business with pleasure. And sleeping with staff was a big no-no. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Maybe another time, Kendall. I’m heading to me mum’s wedding. We’ll be really busy. You have fun in Vancouver, though. Go to the Aquarium. I hear it’s pretty stellar.”
Disappointment clouded her eyes, and she quickly removed her gaze from his face and focused them on the other flight attendant behind him. “All right, well, have fun at your mother’s wedding.”
Shit. Was she going to spit in his drink on their next flight?
He made his way down the jet bridge toward the terminal. It was like his phone was on fire. He pulled it from his pocket, brought up the number he’d stared at over a hundred times this past year and finally, at long last, hit dial.
It started to ring. One ring. Two rings. Three rings.
Double shit. Had she changed her number? Had she given him a fake number? He glanced at his watch. 3:45. If she was still a kindergarten teacher, she’d been done work by now, so he wasn’t disturbing her.
Four rings. Five rings.
He was about to hang up when a frantic “hello?” burst across the line.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” the woman breathed as if she’d just run across the room to the phone. It’d been so long since he’d heard her voice, he had a hard time remembering if this was Silver or not.
“Is this Silver?”
“Hi, yes, it is. Who’s this?”
He didn’t blame her for not having him programmed into her phone. Perhaps she’d deleted his number, was trying to forget absolutely everything about last year, including their three days together. He took a deep breath. “It’s Warren.”
Silence screamed on the other end.
“Hello?”
He could practically see her clearing the cobwebs from her head with a shake. “Hi, sorry. Warren, it’s … it’s so nice to hear from you. What’s up?”
“Well, first of all, I’m glad you remembered me.” He caught his reflection in a passing window and rolled his eyes at his enormous smile. The sign for immigration was just up ahead. He’d have to either step to the side or hang up soon.
“You’re a hard man to forget. Especially after a weekend like that.”
He chuckled. “Well, you’re an impossible woman to forget.”
“What’s up, Warren?” Humor colored her tone.
“Call this a classy text message. If I were more of a cad I’d send you three simple letters. U Up? I’m in town for a bit. Just getting in.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You seeing anyone?”
“No.”
“You free tonight?”
She paused again.
“Or tomorrow night if this is too last-minute.”
“Tonight,” she finally said. “Same hotel?”
“You know it.”
“Same suite?”
“Would I stay in anything else?”
“Nine o’clock?”
“Eight.” He’d have told her to hightail her ass over there right now if he could. But something told him she was busy, and he didn’t want to get too demanding … yet.
“Eight-thirty.”
“Done.” He pulled his passport out of his messenger bag along with the little card-thingy they made you fill out before arrival and queued up.
“How long are you in town for this time?” she asked.
“Ten days.”
“Okay.”
“I have to go. I’m in the immigration lineup. But I’ll see you tonight.”
“You will.”
An immigration officer behind the glass beckoned him over with a stern hand. “I look forward to it.”
“See you tonight, Warren.”
“Bye, Silver.” He stepped up to the glass cubicle, a giant smile on his face. “Hello,” he greeted. “How are you?”
The immigration officer, a man that looked more mountain than human, just glared back at him, a bushy lone eyebrow slowly ascending on his forehead. “And what’s got you so happy all of a sudden, sir?”
It was like the night he’d lost his virginity. A bundle of nerves and a boner that just wouldn’t go away. He’d never behaved this way about a woman before, never been anxious or giddy to see her. Sure, he’d been in love and had girlfriends over the years, but nobody had ever stirred something so primal inside of him, something so raw and craving that he turned into a hormonal high schooler with nothing but boobies on the brain.
Warren glanced at his watch for the tenth time in ten minutes. It was 8:34. She was late. Did that mean she wasn’t coming at all? Had she ever had any intention of coming? Was she blowing him off? Had that even been Silver on the phone? He was about to pull out his phone and call her like a desperate and nagging tween when there was a gentle rap at the door. Bounding across the penthouse with gazelle strides, he was swinging the door open in seconds.
Fuck. Me.
It was her.
She lifted her head from where she’d been staring at her sexy sandaled feet, and those same dark gray eyes pierced his soul and sent his libido into overdrive. Her dark blonde hair was shorter now, shoulder length, and it brushed the top of her thin-strapped black tank top. Her smile was the same, though. Shy and demure, but with a hidden sensuality that he knew lay just beneath the surface.
“Hi.”
His face hurt from how hard he smiled back. “Hi.”
She lifted up a green plastic bag and a colorful cardboard box to reveal a twelve-pack of Barq’s Root Beer. “Thought you might be thirsty. Sorry I’m late.”
He had his arms around her waist and the door closed in a matter of seconds. His knee wedged between her legs as he pushed her up against the wall, holding her there. Her ragged breathing matched his own, and the animalistic look in her eyes said she wanted this just as much as he did.
His fingers wove their way into her hair, and his mouth crashed down on hers. She tasted just as sweet as he remembered, and the way her body gave in to his, molded to his, was just like before. She fit him perfectly.
He heard the bag and box drop with a loud clunk, then her hands were on him, tearing at his shirt and fighting to get off his jeans. He chuckled against her mouth. She was nearly as desperate as he was. Pulling her body away from the wall, he walked them through the suite and to the bedroom. His lips never left hers, but his hands traveled down her body to cup her breasts. He didn’t pull away or pause, but his brain did a little hiccup. She was bigger than he remembered. Much bigger.
He’d always prided himself on being able to look at a woman’s chest and accurately guess her bra size. A skilled he’d honed in university. And he’d done just that with Silver last year, having even sent out for some clothes for her to return home in, requesting a 34C without even bothering to ask her first. He’d been right. But now, she was at least a 38DD, if not larger. He got a little muddled once a woman got past the DD. Each country seemed to have their own code. He was convinced it was to confuse men.
Had she gone and gotten implants? He kneaded them over her tank top and through her bra. No. They didn’t feel fake. Then again, doctors were miracle workers these days.
He pushed her into his bedroom until her calves hit the end of the bed. Only then did he pull his lips away with a pained reluctance he felt just as tightly in his chest as he did his balls.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he said, his heart pounding like a gong in his chest. “You’re more beautiful than I remember.” He made to pull her tank top over her head, but she stopped him with a hand on his.
“No.”
No?
He blinked. “What? Why?”
She averted her gaze and stared at the carpet near his left foot. “I—I’ve gained some weight over the past year, so I’d prefer to keep my tank top on, if you don’t mind.”
A pit the size of a coconut landed hard in his stomach. Did she honestly think he cared about that? He let his eyes slowly climb her body. Yes, she had changed. Her hips were curvier and her waist a touch wider. Let’s not forget about those breasts. They were like the eighth bloody wonder of the world now. But in no way would he call her fat or unattractive. If anything, he was even more turned on by how much more feminine she was now.
“Silver,” he said patiently, “I don’t care. I just told you you’re more beautiful than I remember, and I mean that. These curves are dynamite, and I can’t wait to get my hands on them. My mouth on them.” He reached for the hem of her tank top again, pushing her hand out of the way. “Don’t deny me. Not after all this time.”
He could see the struggle in her eyes, but eventually she nodded, and he drew the thin black fabric over her head. He went to wrap a hand around her back to remove her bra, but again, she stopped him. “The bra stays. No arguments.”
So they were fake. And she was embarrassed.
He shook his head. “I don’t care if you got implants, if that’s what you’re worried about. They’re fucking awesome. Not that you needed them.”
She almost seemed like she wanted to laugh. Her head shook, jostling her amber locks. “Um, yeah. I did. But they’re still really sensitive, so we need to leave them alone for a bit.”
Why on earth the woman thought she needed implants was beyond Warren, but he wasn’t one to argue when faced with the possibility of sex, so instead he just nodded, shrugged and went to undo her shorts instead.
“Can’t say I’m happy you’re going to deny my mouth those sweet raspberry nipples of yours, but I guess it just means I’m going to have to put my mouth elsewhere longer.” He sank to his knees, bringing the hem of her dark denim shorts down with him. He urged her to step out of them, pulling her sandals off at the same time. She wore black lace boy-short knickers, and he was quickly reminded of their time in the elevator, when he’d torn her bridal lingerie clean off her body. She’d gasped and then dissolved into his mouth, letting him savor every inch of her. She’d been an easy one to bring out of her shell. A closet bad girl. There was a reckless little wildcat lurking just beneath the surface, scratching to be let free. And he’d been the one to open the cage. He hadn’t even had to pick the lock; she’d simply handed him the key.
He pressed his nose to her mound, inhaling the scent of her. His hands slid up her thighs; they were still fit and muscular, but something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but there was something different about Silver.
He hooked his fingers into the sides of her knickers and slowly, torturously so, brought them down over her legs. She stepped out. He jammed them into the pocket of his jeans, watching her reaction. “Mine.”
She simply swallowed, followed by a moan deep in her throat, as her pink little tongue flicked out and licked her lips. Had it been a while for her, too? His gaze fell to her cunt, and then he licked his lips. He’d missed her. Missed this. Nothing had ever turned him on the way her demanding to “take” had. He’d been harder than ever and enjoyed pleasing her even more than he thought he would. Making her come as often and hard as he did that night all those months ago had been such a highlight, and he was determined to do it again.
Palming her thighs, he spread them wide and pushed his body between her knees. He gently encouraged her to fall back onto the bed and throw her legs over his shoulders. She did so with a sigh, her perky butt hitting the duvet and sending a new wave of ideas through him.
