The Elite: The Complete Series of Boomer and Player (With Bonus) (55 page)

She moaned and dropped her head back to the pillows as I picked up the pace of my rhythmic circles. I smiled when her moans turned to a string of curses when I plunged my finger inside of her and stroked her g-spot with the tip. The smell of her excitement got me even more turned on and I knew I couldn’t wait much longer. I needed to be back inside her. Filling her. Stretching her. Making her mine.

One of Gemma’s hands dug into the sheet and the other into my back muscles as her body went tight. I plunged my finger a little deeper and pressed harder at the spongy spot and watched her come undone. Her eyes rolled back in her head and after a sharp arch, where her nails dug into my skin, she collapsed and rolled against the bed as each wave washed over her.

It was beautiful.

She grinned up at me once the trembling stopped. “You’re insane.”

“No, you’re just easy.”

“Wha—?”

“Shhh. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I grinned and pushed my way out of the bed. My mind suddenly made up what I wanted to do to her next.

“Stand up,” I said, pulling her hand. She rose from the bed and my eyes devoured her naked body in the morning light. I reached for her hips and spun her around so she was facing the bed. My fingertips sunk into her hips as I hinged her forward. She let me push her over until she had to brace her hands against the bed to keep from falling. Completely bent over, I pushed her feet apart and her ass spread open for me. I took a step back to admire the view, loving how her heart shaped ass highlighted her pussy. It was perfect. Dripping wet and pink from pleasure. I knew she’d be tender and sensitive in the aftermath of her orgasm and would cry and moan and scream with every thrust of my cock.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

I suited up, using one of the condoms we had left over from the night before, and then stepped back to her. Hungry. Ready. I grabbed her hips and she arched her back as the tip of my cock teased her opening. She shuddered and I smiled. Just as I expected.

“Aaron,” she pleaded, her voice rough with desperate need.

“I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. Don’t worry.” I slipped inside her, but used every ounce of control to only give her an inch. She whined and tried to back up against me. “Slow, baby, slow. I want to feel you.”

I slipped further and clenched my jaw. She was so tight, even after she came. The walls of her sweet cunt wrapped around me, fitting like a custom made glove.

My nerves were on fire, spurring me to find relief deep inside of her, and I pushed into her, burying myself as deep as I could. She groaned and arched her back, making her ass even higher and her pussy even tighter. I shut my eyes and pulled out before thrusting back in.

Every thrust was met with a moan. Gemma panted and clawed at the bed as I fucked her hard, deep, and fast. She could take everything I dished out. I really liked this girl.

“I want you to come, Gemma. I want you to let yourself go,” I growled, pushing inside her again.

She moaned and nodded her head.

I slipped a finger between her ass cheeks and smiled as she gasped when my fingertip found her asshole. “Aaron!”

“Trust me.” I pressed into her and then thrust inside her pussy and she moaned louder than before.

“Oh my—”

Before she could finish, I pushed my finger into her another few centimeters and her words dissolved into madness. She screamed when I thrust into her again and with each pulse, she tightened and clenched, clawing frantically at the bed as I fucked her, keeping my finger inside her ass. I was verging on the edge of my own release, and I wanted to make her lose her mind. Gemma moaned and yelped with each thrust and after a few more thrusts she was shaking and trembling. Her legs buckled and I pounded into her one final time, finding my own release, just before she collapsed down onto the bed.

I smiled, full of satisfaction, as I sank down next to her, knowing that there was a very good chance I’d just made a highlighted page in her kinky storybook collection.

Chapter Two

Gemma and I took a quick shower together before she had to rush off to the hospital to start her ten-hour shift in the emergency room. It was hard not to tempt her back to bed, after helping her get wet and soaped up, but she’d kept me at bay, and hurried out the door with a soft kiss and the promise she’d be back after her shift and would bring something for dinner.

If this was what being domesticated looked like—there was a chance, I could get used to it.

As soon as she left, and I was in the house alone, all the thoughts and worries that had kept me up all night came rushing back to the surface. It had been a lot easier to stamp it all down when Gemma was there, smiling and filling me with warmth and light. Now, alone in the house, it was just me and my anxiety.

I puttered around the kitchen, haphazardly making myself a pot of coffee before warming up a scone from Carly’s, still left over from the day I’d literally ordered everything on the menu. I smiled at the memory of Gemma’s expression when I’d taken her joke seriously and told Carly to box it all up. After scarfing the pastry and downing two cups of scalding hot coffee, I laced up my boots, grabbed my black leather jacket, and shrugged into it as I left the house and crossed over to the museum.

I’d taken three steps, my boots crunching in the gravel, when I came to an abrupt stop.

They were gone.

The protesters—or actors, if my theory about O’Keefe was to be believed—were gone. All that was left of them was their hateful signs and discarded garbage they’d accumulated from the three days they’d been posted outside my museum.

My elation at seeing the empty walk in front of the warehouse was quickly evaporated by the reason they were likely gone.

It was day three. Today was the day I was scheduled to meet with O’Keefe, in particular, the day I was supposed to hand over the contract he was blackmailing me into signing. And with it, the keys to my museum and the entire contents.

The thought turned my stomach but also filled my belly with fire. I stomped the rest of the way, and let myself in through the front doors. The museum was bathed in natural light, but still had an eerie quality, as it was completely empty and dead silent. I locked the front door before starting towards my office at the back of the large warehouse-style space. Even though it was almost time to open up, there was no point in leaving the front doors unlocked. No one would be coming. Not when the museum had been closed for days, thanks to the plane crash and O’Keefe’s efforts to sink the business.

In my office, I picked up the phone on my desk and dialed Lana’s number. She answered on the second ring, her voice perky and as raring to go as ever. “Mr. Rosen! Good morning!”

“Hey, Lana. Listen, the protesters are gone from out front. I need you to gather everyone and get them over here for a staff meeting at one. We need to figure out how we’re going to dig out the museum from this bullshit.”

“Sure thing. I’ll get everyone there on time. One o’clock?”

“Yes. I have another meeting this morning…” I let my voice trail off. After the FAA agents had revealed their findings the night before, I knew it was time to get serious about bringing a lawyer in to help me navigate the shit storm I was lost in. “Just have everyone here. Order lunch from Carly’s. Use the company card.”

“Will do,” Lana chirped, and I could picture her scribbling the notes onto her clipboard that she kept glued to her at all times. There had been times I’d wondered if she slept with the damn thing on the pillow beside her. “See you then.”

I clicked off the call and smiled. She could drive me absolutely insane from time to time—but I had no doubt she could swoop in and help me pick up the pieces. Which was essential if I had a prayer in hell of getting the business back on track.

If I could find a way to keep the museum…

God, this lawyer better know his shit.

I’d made the appointment the night before, based on the recommendation of Frankie, the lady FAA agent that had been at the house. When I’d asked for a name, her partner Gary had gruffly told me that was not up to them to recommend an attorney. He’d told me that they didn’t get involved in that side of things and seemed insulted that I’d even asked. However, when he’d gone ahead to the car, Frankie had pulled me aside and slipped me a business card. She hadn’t said much about it, but I knew she wouldn’t have given me the card without good reason. Especially since she was risking her partner’s wrath by even giving me the contact information.

With the staff meeting in the works and an hour to kill before I needed to leave for my appointment with the lawyer, I sat at my desk and tried to throw my wavering concentration into checking my emails. Since taking over the museum, I’d built up an impressive list of contacts in the aviation world, and was constantly getting tips and information about upcoming auctions and sales on vintage planes that would be a good fit for my collection.

And, if there was one thing that would cheer me up, it would be starting the hunt for a new plane.

However, once the long list of emails loaded, it was nothing but nosy reporters and journalists asking for an interview in regards to the crash. “Great, just what I need,” I muttered to myself, sighing. “More people in my fuckin’ business.”

I absently began deleting the messages one by one, when a sharp ringing sound pierced the silence. The sound ricocheted around my office and I jolted to my feet, a twinge in my side reminding me that sudden movements still weren’t a good idea. The sound registered as the buzzer at the back door, where trucks would drop off deliveries. Usually airplane parts, boxes or brochures, or random office supplies. Lana always handled these things, so I had no idea what was due to be dropped off, but headed back to open the door to the hangar where things were usually received, since it had the most free space.

The buzzer rang again. “Fuck, give me a minute,” I growled under my breath.

I jerked the side door open with my good hand and found myself staring eye to eye with Gary, the FAA agent, and this time, he’d brought a whole pack of buddies with him. “What the hell is this?” I asked him, craning to look past his stocky body, to assess how many others were standing behind him. From the initial count, he had brought along a dozen other agents. Or, at least, I assumed them to all be agents as they were all dressed the same and wore the same jackets. Frankie was among them, and flashed a quiet smile in my direction, before re-locking her jaw in a stern expression that matched those around her.

They obviously weren’t here for a tour…

“Mr. Rosen,” Gary said, his clipped tone snapped my attention back to him. “This is a warrant to do a thorough search of the premises as a part of the FBI investigation in regards to the crash.”

“FBI?” My mouth flopped open. “What the hell do they want?”

Gary looked annoyed, as though my question was beneath him. “Someone tampered with your fuel lines, Mr. Rosen. There’s no way that was an accident. As we discussed yesterday, someone was trying to harm you, and possibly more than just you, and in the process, a lady died. This has turned into a homicide investigation.”

“Oh my God…” I raked my casted hand over my hair as the unbroken one still braced the heavy metal door open. “This is insane.”

“Just let us do our job, Mr. Rosen. We can handle this from here.” He made a move to step past me and I stood aside, holding the door as they all filed in. Only as they were passing through did I realize that some of the jackets had the FAA emblem, while a handful of others were wearing the FBI logo. The group was a fifty-fifty mix from my initial count.

When they were all inside, they fanned out, not bothering to ask me for the location of anything in particular as they began their search. Gary and Frankie hung back to continue with me. “How long is this going to take?” I asked, looking at Frankie. “I have my entire staff coming in for a meeting this afternoon. This is the first day without a horde of insane protesters at my door and I’d like to get back to work.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Gary interjected, taking control away from her. “There’s no set timeline here, Mr. Rosen. It will take as long as it takes. We removed your so-called horde outside to make sure we could get this done as quickly as possible, but there’s no guarantee how long it will take. This is a crime scene, now. This place is to stay closed to anyone other than our team and the FBI agents working with us.”

My irritation threatened to boil over as I realized that I’d traded a pack of angry protesters for an angrier mess of government officials. “That was you guys? How’d you manage to get rid of the vultures?” I asked, jerking my chin towards the front of the museum.

Gary smiled. “The FBI can be very…
persuasive
.”

I nodded. The protesters probably weren’t getting paid enough to make it worth getting tangled up with the FBI. “All right. Can I go back to my office? I have a meeting in an hour, but I was trying to get some work done in the meantime.”

Gary nodded. “Well, no. Not until we’re finished with the investigation. And…don’t leave town.”

“What? You think I did it? Seriously?”

“I didn’t say that. We have to keep all lines of communication open.”

“Fine. You’ve got my number.”

With a nod, Gary and Frankie left to catch up with the other agents and I stalked to the exit. Logically, I knew they were there to help and that I had nothing to fear, because I had nothing to do with the cause behind the crash. I wanted to know who was behind it just as much as they did—although, my gut already had a very clear idea who was responsible—but it annoyed me that my business couldn’t begin to get back on track as they rummaged through every last inch of the place, in search of clues that I’m sure O’Keefe was too crafty to leave behind.

.

There was still a good chunk of time before my appointment, so I headed down toward the beach. A little salty air would do me some good to clear my mind before what was bound to be a difficult meeting with the lawyer.

Chapter Three