His Forever (His #3) Page 2

  Hayden took the neatly folded barf bag from me and opened it up. Then he pressed it gently into the palm of my hand. “You’re going to make a frantic dash for the bathroom as though you’re about to be sick,” he instructed. “Me being the loving boyfriend I am, I’ll follow so I can hold your hair.”

  I rolled my eyes. “How noble of you to brave my imaginary vomit,” I quipped.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “No, not yet,” I said, reaching for the champagne we’d been provided with upon takeoff. I took a long sip but didn’t swallow. Instead, I held it in my mouth. Then I unfastened my seatbelt, worked up my courage and bolted from my seat. I paused just outside the bathroom door to spit the champagne into the barf bag before stumbling inside.

  A moment later Hayden let himself into the bathroom, locking the door behind us. “You were fantastic,” he snickered as we stood there in the cramped little room, our bodies not quite touching. “The champagne was a nice touch. I’m impressed. Those Hollywood actresses don’t have anything on you, Daniella.”

  I snorted and opened my mouth to speak, but I was silenced by Hayden’s kiss.

  Just like that, our playful banter dissolved. In its place was pure, raw passion. Suddenly we only had one purpose, and that purpose was to be together. After everything that had transpired, it felt good to just fall into one another. Hayden grounded me in the midst of all the craziness that had somehow become my life.

  His tongue explored my mouth with a familiarity that instantly relaxed me. Though the only sound in the small cubicle was our heavy breathing, the kiss spoke volumes. It said far more than any words ever could, reaffirming our love for and commitment to one another. Hayden’s lips felt like coming home.

  I’d given up pretty much everything for him but I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Not even the perfect career in the ideal town could entice me to give my decision a second thought. I didn’t want to live a life devoid of Hayden Slate. I’d risk everything just to be with him…and in a sense, I had.

  Hayden’s hands were all over my body as his fingers tore at my clothing. He yanked off my lace panties, the delicate fabric destroyed by his need for me. I helped him untie my halter neck sundress so that he wouldn’t rip it off me in his sexual frenzy. Exiting the bathroom looking dishevelled wasn’t high on my list of things to do when Hayden’s father was onboard the plane. I was paranoid about making a poor first impression because no matter what their relationship, Henrik was Hayden’s father.

  And yet the thought of having sex with Hayden in the cramped washroom of the jet thrilled me to no end. As his lips moved down my neck, over my collarbone and across my erect nipples, I was barely able to hold back my moans. I wanted him – no, I needed him so bad. He ignited something in me that made me crazy.

  With my skirt hiked up around my waist, Hayden’s hands squeezed my ass cheeks and nearly lifted me up off the ground, pushing my back up against the wall. His stubble tickled my neck as he licked that sweet, sensitive erogenous zone just below my ear and his breath felt hot against my soft skin. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist and then he plunged inside my silky depths.

  I was so wet for him. His length filled me completely and my body was totally his as I surrendered to him. The plane hit a little turbulence at that moment and we were thrown around a bit, but what normally would have freaked me out barely even registered. Not even fear of falling from the sky could distract me from my desire for Hayden. In fact, the bumpy ride only seemed to exacerbate my pleasure, each jolt igniting a fresh wave of desire within me.

  Arching my back, I thrust my bouncing breasts toward Hayden and he ducked his head down, capturing a hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue danced over the stiff tip flesh unlike the way he teased my sensitive clit when he went down on me. He drove himself into me with a rhythmic thrusting motion that drove me wild.

  The intensity of it took my breath away and before long, I could feel the need for release building in my loins. I marvelled at the way our bodies seemed to be built for one another, like the universe had planned right from the beginning of time for us to be together. In that moment I felt so close to Hayden – and not just because we were quite literally crammed into the impossibly small bathroom of an aircraft.

  His teeth clamped down on my nipple. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and clutched at his hair as he held me firmly against the wall. His thick member plunged into my wet, wanting body with increasing force and I knew what that meant. He was on the verge of climax…and so was I.

  A moment later when I felt Hayden’s body stiffen and heard his breath catch in his throat, I knew he was there. I clenched my pelvic muscles as tightly as I could in rapid succession, wanting to help him along. There was nothing quite as rewarding as seeing that expression of utter bliss on his handsome face and knowing that I was the cause of it.

  My friend Mina once told me the difference between sex and lovemaking isn’t the level of force or kinkiness involved but rather, the degree of selflessness. She said that sex is about personal gratification, chasing a climax, feeling good. But lovemaking…that’s every bit as much about wanting to pleasure your partner.

  As an inexperienced virgin, I hadn’t quite understood what she meant. In fact, I’m pretty sure I stared at her like she was crazy before clumsily changing the subject to something I knew more about. I hadn’t known what to say or what to think about her strange assertion.

  But I got it now.

  Even though we were brazenly fucking in an airplane bathroom in a quest to join the Mile High Club, there was no question about it. Hayden and I weren’t just having sex. What we were doing was more than sex…so much more. We were making love.

  After he came down, Hayden looked absolutely spent. I knew it wasn’t necessarily the sex that had worn him out so much as all the other stuff that was going on. What I was asking him to do – living under his manipulative father’s roof for our own protection – wasn’t easy for him. I motioned for him to sit on the closed toilet lid, afraid that otherwise he might stumble and fall on me the next time we hit turbulence.

  “Are you okay?” I murmured, brushing my hand across his damp brow. He caught my wrist and kissed each one of my fingertips, his eyes never leaving mine. The electricity between us was undeniable. It always had been.

  He reached for me then, motioning for me to place my legs outside of his. That was so like him, always the considerate lover. He might be exhausted but he was still determined to see to it that I got my orgasm. “You don’t have to…” I started to protest, more than willing to give him an out given how tired he looked.

  He held a finger to his lips and shushed me in the nicest manner possible. “Shh, it’s okay,” he assured me as he positioned my body where he wanted it. “I love making you cum. I want this as much as you do…maybe even more. Just let me do this for you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I sighed through heavy lidded eyes. His fingers were already on my spread, wet sex and as always, they felt incredible. He always knew just how to set me on fire. So I stood there nearly straddling him, my legs spread wide and my gently swaying breasts right in his face as he touched me in all the right ways.

  My thighs trembled as Hayden’s finger drew slow, easy circles around my engorged clitoris. I could feel the sensitive nub positively pulsating with desire. He teased me for a minute, igniting my passions even further, before giving me what I craved. When he finally touched my swollen button, I nearly yelped.

  He rubbed me hard and fast and for a moment, the only sound that filled the tiny space was the wet rubbing of his fingers as they slid through my juices. Then I began to moan, a low, guttural noise I could hardly believe was even coming from me. Hayden perked up then, no longer looking exhausted. Instead, he looked very, very interested.

  “That’s it,” he coaxed in a low, commanding voice. “Give into the pleasure, Daniella, and cum for me. Think about what we’re doing right under everyone else’s noses. Think about how easy it would be
to get caught – one wrong move and the door could burst open, the two of us tumbling out clothes askew in full view of everyone. The thought of being caught gets you off, doesn’t it?”

  “No,” I moaned, not wanting to admit the truth. I wasn’t that kind of girl. I wasn’t a sex crazed risk taker who’d stop at nothing to get off. Only a short time ago I’d been a twenty-eight year old virgin whose entire life revolved around academia. I definitely wasn’t the kind of girl who fucked her boyfriend on an airplane…except apparently I was.

  Hayden brought something out in me I just couldn’t explain. He pushed me to move beyond my comfort zone, trying new things and relishing in the danger. And now he was going to make me cum on a plane.

  “Your pussy is so wet,” he informed me softly as his fingers strummed relentlessly at my hardened clit. “You’re practically hyperventilating and your legs are shaking. You’re going to cum any minute. Just give into it. Give into me. Go on: cum for me, Daniella…cum for me.”

  As though my body was obediently responding to his verbal command, I felt myself shudder. My abdomen tensed and my thighs trembled. Then sweet, relentless pleasure invaded my very being, ravaging my senses. It was white hot, mind-numbing ecstasy, all-consuming and almost a little bit frightening because it was just so good. It was a wonder I didn’t scream.

  We stumbled out of the bathroom a few moments later. I was sure I looked flushed and my hair was dishevelled – but I told myself that was okay because I was playing the part of a woman with motion sickness. Somehow, Hayden emerged unscathed. He looked as put together as ever in the expensive suit he’d traded for his swim trunks shortly after his father’s unexpected arrival.

  All eyes were on us.

  “She’s fine, folks,” Hayden announced cheerfully, implicitly telling everyone to quit staring. “We’re just going to curl up under a blanket and ride out the rest of this flight,” he added with a charming smile.

  The flight attendant quickly brought over a blanket as Hayden eased me into my seat. It wasn’t necessary for him to help me when I wasn’t actually sick, but the chivalry was sort of nice.

  After sitting down next to me, Hayden pulled the blanket up over our heads. It felt almost like we were two little kids in a homemade fort. Except I could sense a shift in Hayden…he didn’t have that carefree demeanor one would expect of a man who’d just fashioned a makeshift tent out of a blanket.

  “My father and I spoke back in Jamaica while you were packing your things,” he said quietly so that only I could hear. I leaned against him, noting with a twinge of sadness that our naughty encounter in the bathroom had only served to momentarily distract him. It certainly hadn’t made him forget his troubles – not that I would have expected it to.

  “Oh?”

  “He fired Steve,” Hayden said. “As soon as my father found out Steve set him up to purchase a stolen painting, all bets were off. My father took away Steve’s home, his cars, his reputation, his employability…everything. He said it was only fair that he destroy Steve just like Steve wanted to destroy him. He said Steve ought to be thanking him for not involving the authorities.”

  “Well to be fair,” I countered cautiously, “Steve did break the law.”

  Hayden sighed, sounding like a man much older than his years. “I know what it must look like to you. And you’re right, what Steve did was wrong. But I understand his motivations and I appreciate what he was trying to do. In fact, I’m a bit disappointed it didn’t occur to me to hatch a similar plan myself.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t I?”

  I hesitated. I knew how important Steve was to Hayden. He’d been the only real father figure Hayden had ever had, but my first impression of him had admittedly not been the greatest. “Did you really believe Steve when he said he was stealing the money for your benefit?” I pressed gently, trying to be as tactful as possible while still getting my point across. “How do you know he wasn’t trying to take your father’s fortune for himself? Doesn’t that seem more likely?”

  Beside me, I felt Hayden tense. “He wouldn’t do that,” he rejected the suggestion gruffly, shutting down immediately. “I know Steve. He just wouldn’t do that.” Abruptly he pulled the blanket off of us, yanking us out of our special, private little world. He turned his back to me then, shutting me out entirely. “I’m going to nap for a bit before we land,” he informed me.

  But I knew that wasn’t the real reason he was putting distance between us.

  Though my intentions had been good, I sensed I’d crossed a line when I’d questioned Steve’s motives. Hayden was annoyed with me. But could he really blame me for being on edge? Sometimes it felt like my life had become a soap opera and there were too many twists and turns to keep up with. It was mentally exhausting.

  With a sigh, I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, intending to think things through. With so many absurd recent events and odd discoveries floating around inside my head, I didn’t even know where to start. Instead of attempting to make sense of everything that was going on, I drifted off into an uneasy slumber plagued by nightmares.

  Chapter 03

  When we arrived at Henrik Slate’s sprawling Malibu estate, I wasn’t at all prepared for what awaited us. The mansion looked like a castle, massive and meticulously designed. The grounds were perfectly landscaped and the interior was equally as impressive.

  It felt like a gigantic maze I could easily get lost in…and it was the sort of place I wanted to get lost in. It was hard to believe that people actually lived this way, where no expense was spared and no luxury was too over the top. Even more unbelievable was the knowledge that I was now one of those people, a guest in Henrik’s home for the foreseeable future.

  Hayden, unsurprisingly, didn’t share my sense of wonder. As soon as we arrived at the estate, a telling darkness came over him. I could only imagine the painful memories the house that wasn’t a home held for him. But he didn’t confide in me. Instead, he kept whatever he was feeling bottled up and retreated inward.

  I didn’t like the change I was seeing in him one bit. It felt like when Henrik was around, Hayden became a different person – just a shell of his former self. I hadn’t expected that; the only time I’d really seen them together was at the party Henrik had thrown and that had been too brief to make any lasting impression.

  The transformation I saw made me worry for Hayden. It was especially troubling to see the way he was withdrawing from me, but I tried my best to give him space. I knew he needed to work through whatever was going on inside on his own terms. If and when he was ready to talk, I’d be there waiting.

  I just hoped that making him return to his father’s mansion hadn’t been a mistake.

  With awe in my eyes, I wandered from room to room of the breathtaking house, my breath taken away by the beautiful interior design. Expensive antique furniture complemented the artwork that hung prominently displayed on every wall. It was clear that Henrik was indeed a serious art collector. I almost felt like I was in a gallery or museum, and was a little afraid to touch anything at all lest I damage it.

  Though it was exquisite, I could understand what Hayden had meant when he told me the mansion was cold. There were no family photos and in fact, no personal mementos of any kind whatsoever. It didn’t even look like anyone lived there, and it certainly didn’t feel that way. How can an immaculately designed, pristine art gallery feel like a home?

  I was so busy admiring my surroundings and struggling to imagine Hayden growing up in that impossibly formal atmosphere that I lost track of him. I realized I was alone. I began to wander from room to room in search of my boyfriend, a little voice in the back of my mind warning me I was going to get impossibly lost if I didn’t pay close attention to my route.

  After a while, I heard the low murmur of voices down at the end of a lengthy corridor. I recognized one of the voices as being Hayden’s and moved toward it eagerly. He sounded agitated and, the closer I got, the lou
der he spoke. By the time I was standing outside the door he was shouting.

  I peeked into the room just as Hayden was calling his father a selfish bastard and accusing him of tearing the family apart. I hesitated, unsure of whether I should interrupt or leave them be. Just then the partially closed door flew open and Hayden stormed out in a blind rage. If he saw me standing there, he didn’t let on.

  Staring after Hayden in bewilderment, I didn’t even notice Henrik standing in the doorway to what appeared to be a grand, fantastic office full of leather furniture and, of course, more art. He was looking at me.

  “Come in,” he ordered, the dominant personality mirroring his son’s in a way that was interesting if not a bit unnerving. It wasn’t an invitation. It was a command. And since I was a guest in his home and he was my boyfriend’s father, I was reluctant to pick a fight with him.

  Suddenly feeling timid, I followed Henrik into his office. He shut the door behind us and wordlessly selected a bottle from the massive oak wine rack in the corner. It was so elaborate and ornate that it almost looked like a piece of art itself. But that seemed to be par for the course at Henrik Slate’s mansion; it was clear he had rich tastes.

  He sat down in the high backed leather chair and motioned for me to take a seat across from him.

  “I don’t like to drink alone,” he explained as he popped the cork on the bottle and poured a glass. “And I could really use a drink. That boy is impossible,” he sighed wearily with an annoyed shake of his head.

  Looking at him from across the desk, Henrik looked like an older version of Hayden. His white hair gave him a distinguished appearance and his attitude of entitlement seemed to demand respect. But I wasn’t one to give into demands. Respect, as far as I was concerned, had to be earned. And Henrik had in no way earned my respect. I’d be polite unless he gave me a good reason to rip him a new one, but that was it.