Jack chuckled as he loaded her skis and poles into the exterior basket besides the chopper’s skids. Klaus and Yannick followed suit and then, without waiting to be told, climbed into the backseat of their transportation. Jack looked at Chelsea, shrugged, and opened the right-hand side front door for her.
“Grab the handhold at the side of the door and pull yourself up, darlin’,” he said. “Unless you need a push from behind, that is.”
“I’ve got it,” she replied, wondering what he would have done if she’d taken him up on his invitation.
She could hear a smile in his voice, like he’d interpreted the nature of her thoughts and found them amusing. Well, of course he had! A man who looked like he did would have wall-to-wall women more than ready to have their arses manhandled.
“Need to put your legs either side of my cyclic,” he said, grinning as he pointed to a long lever that was positioned right where she wanted to put her legs. “It vibrates once we get airborne,” he added so only she could hear him.
She shot him a lifted eyebrow look but had no choice but to do as he asked. Once she was settled, he helped her to buckle up, his fingers loitering a little longer than was necessary on the buckle that spanned her middle. With another of his annoyingly knowing smiles, he turned away and cast a cursory eye over the guys in the back to make sure they’d fastened themselves in. He then walked around to his side of the bird, climbed aboard, and donned headphones with a microphone attached, through which he could communicate with his passengers. Chelsea put hers on as well but the Dutch didn’t bother. Jack shrugged, implying it was their choice.
“Earth to Chelsea,” Jack said, grinning as he flipped switches and went through his pre-takeoff routine. “You okay there?”
“Fine.” It was no hardship to smile at him, even though she was only doing so for professional reasons. Why else would she? “I’m looking forward to this.”
“You done it before?”
“I’ve done a lot of off-piste stuff but never from a helicopter. In fact, it’s my first time up in one.”
“A virgin, huh?” That damned sexy smile again. The limitations she’d placed on the relationship she planned to have with him were, she could already tell, going to be challenging to stick to. “Ask me nicely and I might give you a private aerial tour of the country.”
“Now why would you want to do that?”
Jack winked at her from behind his Ray-Bans. “I can’t think of a single reason,” he said as he lifted the ’copter smoothly from its pad. But don’t worry, something will occur to me.”
Chelsea bit her lip to stop herself laughing at his corny lines. No point being too much of a pushover. She gasped as the helicopter dipped forward as it took to the air, sending her stomach lurching and making her regret the pastry she’d just wolfed down.
“This is amazing,” she said when she opened her eyes again and looked down at the village spread below them like a snow-covered patchwork quilt.
“Glad you like it.”
Chelsea didn’t like it. She loved everything about it. There was just something about being in this noisy tin machine and placing her life in Jack’s capable hands that fulfilled an unidentified need within her. She loved taking risks. In her line of work, that was a given. She loved the rush she got from driving race cars, competing at martial arts and, of course, off-piste skiing. But this was in another league. If she could afford it, she’d qualify as a chopper pilot herself. It was the ultimate rush.
Remembering what she was supposed to be doing, she glanced over her shoulder at the guys in the backseat, more convinced than ever that she was right about them. They were annoyed to have her tagging along, at having to have a guide, and at the prospect of being videoed. She could see them now, arguing with one another in some sort of silent shorthand. They couldn’t talk over the noise of the rotors but there was a lot of hand gesturing going on.
Chelsea turned back to enjoy the view of the scenery below them, to say nothing of the pilot’s rugged profile. All too soon, Jack brought the chopper down to a smooth landing on what seemed like the top of the world.
“There we go,” he said to her, leaning across to unfasten her harness. She allowed it, even though she was perfectly capable of releasing it herself. Playing the part of the helpless, passive female had never sat well with Chelsea but, needs must. “Go and have a great time. Take care and don’t forget to call into Hadleigh’s tonight. I’ll have a glass of wine with your name on it waiting for you.”
Now let’s play, she begged, somehow sensing she wouldn’t be allowed to set the tempo and rush matters along. If she’d learned one thing about Jack Gower, it was that he took his pleasures very seriously. Oh, and he liked to be in charge in the bedroom. Okay, that was two things, neither of which gave her any reason to be suspicious of him.
But Chelsea was suspicious by nature. It came with the territory.
The bed was sinfully comfortable and she sank into the mattress as she lay on top of the covers like a nervous, virginal bride. She closed her eyes, willing him to join her. Willing him to delay so she could enjoy the anticipation indefinitely.
“Raise your arms above your head.”
Her eyes flew open and there he was, standing directly over her in all his glorious male splendor. He moved as stealthily as a cat and she hadn’t heard him approach.
“What are you going to do?”
“Tie your hands to the headboard.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Haven’t you ever been tied up before, sugar?”
“No. Well, a guy wanted to once but I wouldn’t let him.”
“Will you let me?”
Would she? “I still don’t understand why you want to—”
“Do you trust me, Chelsea?”
“Yes,” she replied without having to think about it. And it was true. Despite her doubts about his activities outside of the bedroom, inside of it he had her complete trust.
“Then let me show you what you’ve been missing.” He twirled something feather-light across her belly, igniting renewed desire deep within her core. “You won’t be sorry and you know I’ll untie you the moment you ask me to, don’t you?”
His soft, hypnotic tone had her nodding before he finished his sentence. The desire to please him overrode every other consideration.
“There’s my good girl.”
He tied something soft around both wrists—it felt like a silk scarf—and then attached the long end to the headboard.
“Answer me, Chelsea. When I ask you a question, I need you to answer with words, just so I can be sure I’m not pushing you too far.” He chuckled. “Unless I have you gagged, of course—”
“Gagged!” Her eyes bugged.
“Gagged,” he said, tapping her thigh, as though chastising her for interrupting him. “And in that situation, we’ll work out another method of communication.”
Holy moly, he made it sound as if they’d be doing it again.
“Yes, I’m comfortable.”
“Good girl. And good girls get a reward.”
He knelt by the side of the bed and played gently with one of her breasts. But the gentleness didn’t endure. He lowered his head, sucked her rock-hard nipple into his mouth, and bit at it hard enough to make her cry out.
“Shush! Control your breathing. Roll with the pain, darlin’, and see what it does for you.”
Before she could respond, he took the same nipple between his teeth and pulled it away from her body until the skin stopped stretching. She opened her mouth to protest, but he covered it with his lips and she lost herself in the intensity of his kiss. The nipple that he’d released in order to kiss her thrummed and tingled, but oddly in a nice way. Jack clearly got off on rough sex. She’d never tried it but all early indications were that it could be rewarding. Might as well carry on. She already knew he was right about one thing. Being deprived of the use of her hands and therefore unable to do much for him meant all the attention would be on her. It was rare, in her limited experience, to meet such an unselfish man and she wasn’t about to complain and pass up the chance.
“Spread your legs as far as they’ll go, angel, and bring your knees up.”
In a trance, Chelsea didn’t hesitate. She felt his hair flopping against her sensitized skin as he lapped and nipped his way down her torso, stopping to give special attention to her most reactive areas. The bed dipped as he climbed onto it. Unable to move from her prone position and see what was going on, she could only assume that the moment had come.
She was wrong. She smelled his addictive citrusy scent as his hair fell across her pussy as he applied his swirling tongue to her labia. She cried out, almost orgasming when he sucked her sweet spot and two fingers found their way into her slick entrance.
“My, my, we are anxious, aren’t we?” he said tauntingly before returning his lips to where she most wanted them to be and sucking a little harder.
She felt more fingers stretching her pussy wide and then—hell no!—surely that wasn’t his entire fist?