Page 59 of Fourth Base with the Alpha
I don’t want her to.
“The contract …”
“The contract …” she repeats, peering up at me with those big brown eyes.
“It specified kissing was allowed.”
“Yes, kissing was in the contract.”
I snatch her waist and bend down to kiss her. But even though she’s reaching up on her tiptoes, she’s too damn far away, so I cup her ass in my hands and lift her up. Automatically she wraps her legs around my waist, her warm center pressing against my stiffening cock and sending my brain into free fall.
I push her up against the door, her back hitting the wood as I cage her tiny frame with my giant one. I kiss her.
Fuck, do I kiss her.
I forget all about the no-tongues stupid-fucking rule, and I kiss her like I’ve been dreaming of these last few days, these last few hours, these last few minutes.
I sink my tongue deep into her mouth and I suck on her lips.
She moans and whimpers clinging around my neck like I’m a life raft and we’re tossing about in stormy waters.
She tastes so good. Like spice and sugar all at once, so evocative I swear my brain is short-circuiting.
This trip to Sweden is going to be hell and heaven, torture and bliss.
I can’t fucking wait.
14
Isabella
“And the seats go right back?”I ask him, pressing another button on the arm of my chair and ‘ooooh aaaahing’ in pleasure as the back tilts right down so I’m out flat.
Hunter stares down at me from the chair next to mine with amusement twitching the corners of his mouth. Despite the colossal size of these seats in first class, he still manages to look cramped.
I press the button again and snap back up to a sitting position.
“Wouldn’t you have been more comfy in a private jet?” He has the money and I’ve booked enough private flights for the band to know they fly that way.
“This is better for the environment. I fly this way when I can.”
I smile at him with a warmth spreading through my veins like a strong shot of tequila. He cares about that stuff. You wouldn’t guess it from his gruff, I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-anyone-or-anything attitude. But underneath that thick solid exterior, he’s all mushy inside.
“So, tell me,” I scoot around to face him, tucking my legs underneath me, “what perks do we get flying first class? Because I want to milk them dry!”
“Privacy and peace and quiet.”
“Urgh, that sounds dull! I was thinking they’d be serving us caviar and champagne and putting on some kind of show.”
“You like caviar?”
“I don’t know.”
“You won’t, trust me … but if you want to try it …” He presses one of the buttons on his arm rest and a moment later an air-steward comes hurrying towards us.
He’s almost out of breath when he skids to a halt beside Hunter’s chair, his eyes all gooey as he hovers waiting for instructions.
“Can I help you, Sir?”
