Page 62 of A Billionaire Between the Sheets

CHAPTERTWENTY

Paris.

It was like a dream come true, and Olivia couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

Deacon leaned in and took her hands. “I’m going to make a guess here and say that you’re crying because you’re happy. If that’s not the case, tell me now—before the captain gets this bird in the air.”

She sniffed. “It’s just that I’ve wanted to go to Paris ever since Michael told me the story of walking along the Seine.”

“Then why didn’t you, Livy? You had the money and a private jet at your disposal.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because I was always so busy with French Kiss.”

“I think consumed is a better word. With French Kiss and Michael.” He gently squeezed her hands. “I know you idolized him, Olivia. To a young girl, he must’ve seemed like a god. But, like all men, he had his faults. And one of them was wanting you to be as consumed with French Kiss as he was—so consumed that you forgot that there is an entire world out there that has nothing to do with sales reports and bottom lines.”

Uncomfortable beneath his intense gaze, Olivia turned to the window. The plane taxied down the runway, gaining speed until the scenery became a blur, then lifted and fought against gravity and wind currents until it reached the right elevation and was able to level out. Olivia felt the same way. She felt like she had spent her entire life fighting against unknown forces just to find that space where she could finally enjoy the ride. She was brought out of her thoughts by the caress of Deacon’s thumb on her knuckles. She turned from the deep blue of the skies to the deep purplish blue of Deacon’s eyes. And suddenly everything inside her leveled out.

“So tell me, Ms. Harrington,” he said with a slight tipping of his lips. “What else do you want besides a trip to Paris?”

It was a good question. At one time she could’ve easily answered it: Her father’s return. Michael’s love. French Kiss’s success. But now her mind seemed empty of want…save for one thing.

Unable to help herself, she leaned across and kissed him. His lips were as hot as the rest of him, and she moistened them with her tongue before hungrily taking advantage of their softness. He made to release the clasp on his seat belt, no doubt so he could take control of the situation, but Olivia pulled back and shook her head.

He sent her a quizzical look, but allowed her to take his hand from the clasp and rest it on the arm of the seat. After unbuckling her belt, she did the same with his other hand, curling his fingers around the soft leather of the arm.

The flight attendant appeared, carrying a bottle of champagne. “Can I get you anything to eat, Mr. Beaumont…Ms. Harrington?”

“Maybe later,” Olivia said with a smile. “Right now, Mr. Beaumont and I have some business to discuss.”

“Of course.” The attendant placed the bottle of champagne in the holder on the minibar. “Just buzz if you need me.” She pulled the pocket door closed behind her.

Olivia turned to find Deacon watching her. “Please don’t tell me we’re going to spend the entire trip talking about business,” he said.

“What else would we do?” Slipping off her high heels, she got out of her seat and knelt in front of him. “Now the key to any good business meeting is knowing when to take charge and when to keep your mouth shut.” She smiled at him as she spread his legs and moved between them. “This time I’m in charge, Mr. Beaumont. Got it?”

One eyebrow arched, but he kept his mouth shut.

Slowly she slid her hands up his forearms. The muscles beneath flexed, and everything inside her melted like polyester beneath a hot iron. This was a man. She slipped her hands to his knotted biceps. A real, honest-to-goodness man. And for this moment, he was all hers.

She caressed his body beneath the silk of his shirt, her hands gliding over his shoulders and along his collarbone until she reached the open collar. Button by button, she opened the shirt to reveal his hard pectoral muscles and the sprinkle of dark hair between. She kept unbuttoning until she reached his waistband. With a tug she freed his shirt from his jeans.

Deacon watched through half-mast eyelids. He had the longest lashes, a thick fringe that would make any woman green with envy. But once his shirt was open, Olivia didn’t spend a lot of time admiring his lashes.

Spreading his shirt wide, she let her gaze wander over his masculine perfection before she leaned in to place a kiss in the hollow of his throat. Beneath her lips she felt the vibration of his groan and smiled. She liked being in charge with Deacon. She kissed her way along his collarbone, then down to one pectoral muscle. He didn’t make another sound, but he shifted in the seat, his knees pressing into her sides as if to prod her on. But she took her time, gently kissing all around the tiny nipple before she took it into her mouth. She sucked, and his hips lifted. She rolled his nipple against the roof of her mouth, and his hands white-knuckled the arms of the chair.

“Livy,” he groaned.

She ignored his plea and moved lower, along each abdominal muscle to the waistband of his jeans. The fabric was worn enough that she could easily unbutton it with just a twist of her fingers. The zipper was a lot harder. Metal tooth by metal tooth, she inched it down to reveal the hard length of him beneath the stretched cotton of his boxer briefs. She spread the denim and, using only a finger, traced his erection from base to tip.

His hips lifted as far as they could beneath the seat belt. “Livy,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “you’re killin’ me, babe.”

A giddy feeling joined the desire that gripped her body, and wanting to make him lose it even more, she slid her hand into the opening of his boxers and freed him. She caressed the smooth skin along the shaft before rubbing a thumb over the moisture on the tip. The sound he released was a mixture of a groan and a moan. She lowered her head and took him into her mouth. But after only three strokes, his hands came off the armrests and tangled in her hair, gently tugging her away. Within seconds he had his seat belt off and Olivia on her feet with her skirt pulled up. When he saw that she didn’t have on any underwear, his expression was priceless.

“Thank God,” he breathed as he pulled her down to straddle him. After only a minor adjustment, he entered her with a hard thrust that had her moaning much louder than he had. “Shhh.” He placed his lips against hers. “We don’t want to distract the crew.”

The funny part about it was that Olivia didn’t care whom they distracted. She wanted Deacon, and she wanted him now. But having sex in a leather airplane seat wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be. Her knees were pinned between the arms of the seat and Deacon’s hips, and she couldn’t get the leverage she needed to move. Fortunately, Deacon was through being a follower. With a firm grasp on her thighs, he got to his feet and carried her toward the bedroom at the back of the plane. Unfortunately, just then the plane hit a patch of turbulence that had Deacon stumbling and bumping her into the paneled wall.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern.

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