Take Me

This is a work of fiction. All characters,
organizations and events in this story are products of the author’s
imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Take Me

ISBN-13 -
978-1-938745-18-8

Copyright 2013 by Onné Andrews

All rights reserved

Published by Angry Sheep Publishing

Houston, Texas

Smashwords Edition

Photography by lenetstan

Cover design by Onné Andrews

For Anisa and the older hero of her
heart.

Onné Andrews

I scowled at the raindrops pounding against
the concourse window. The thunder growled in return. With the
hidden sun setting, the sky shifted from angry blue-gray to
charcoal. I’d scheduled my flight a day early to avoid arriving
wrinkled and frumpy at tomorrow’s interview.

Instead, I was trapped in Atlanta. My flight
out of Logan had been delayed thanks to the early morning snowfall
in Boston, and I’d missed my connection to Florida. But with this
storm, Mother Nature seemed determined to screw me out of my backup
flight. If I wanted to be the CEO who would take Radcliffe Software
global, I
had
to be in Tampa.

The fine hairs on the back of my neck rose,
and my scalp tingled in a way that had nothing to do with the
impressive electrical display outside. The other passenger waiting
in the airline’s Gold Club suite was staring at my ass again.

I had to give him credit. He was a little
more subtle about checking me out than most men.

And it wasn’t like I hadn’t examined him in
return as he pleasantly, but insistently, discussed the
possibilities of our plane taking off before tomorrow morning with
the concierge.

I estimated him to be in his mid- to
late-forties, but he kept himself fit from the way his trousers
hugged his ass. His full head of salt-and-pepper hair would be a
distinguished silver within the next decade. He had one of those
faces that grew into its masculinity as he aged. I suspected he’d
been too pretty in his twenties for my taste. But now…

I turned around to test my memory against
reality. At least, he would give me a pleasant image to use in the
shower later. Assuming we didn’t drown in Atlanta tonight.

His polite smile crinkled the corners of his
eyes. The dark frames he’d donned to review the paperwork he held
emphasized his pale blue irises. “Doesn’t look like it’s letting up
anytime soon.”

“No.” I reached into my bag and pulled out my
phone. A couple of swipes revealed a swirl of red, yellow and green
on the weather radar. “Great. There’s a high-pressure system
sitting on the coast, holding this front in place. They expect
another couple inches of rain over the next three hours.”

His low chuckle sent tingles from my head to
places that hadn’t tingled in years. After the disaster of my
marriage, I had begun to wonder if I’d ever feel sexual attraction
again.

He closed the folder and slid it into his
carry-on. “It doesn’t look like I’m getting home tonight.”

“They haven’t started cancelling yet.” But as
I gestured at the flight numbers displayed on the board behind the
concierge’s podium, the first bright red “CANCELLED” replaced
“DELAYED” on the screen. “Well, crap.”

He stood and stalked over to the concierge,
who tried very hard not to shrink under his looming presence. “Can
we save some time, and you arrange for my hotel room now?”

“I can’t until they cancel your flight to
Tampa, sir,” she squeaked.

I had to give him credit. Most travelers
would have launched into a blistering tirade even though the poor
girl couldn’t control the airlines, much less the weather. Instead,
he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So you’re on the same flight as me?” I
said.

The concierge shot me a grateful look, but my
question was for my own benefit. I pursued the job in Tampa because
I desperately needed to take some chances in my stalled career.

I knew I needed to take chances in other
areas of my life as well. I hadn’t dated since the divorce, much
less had a man between my legs in six years. He wasn’t wearing a
wedding ring. There was no telltale line on his fourth finger. And
I really wanted him to seduce me, or think that he was.

I wanted to fuck him.

No, I wanted to feel alive again.

“246 to Tampa Bay that was supposed to leave
an hour ago?” His polite smile was back, but this time it had an
assessing quality.

Heat seeped into my pussy. I struggled to
keep my reactions in check. “Unfortunately.”

Something wicked flashed behind his eyes.
“Would you like to join me for dinner?”

“I don’t know.” I drawled out the words. Not
because I was unsure about his invitation. I was absolutely sure I
wanted to do more than share a meal with this gentleman. “I don’t
want your family to sue me if you’re poisoned by airport food.”

“I’m willing to take the chance if you are.”
His smile flared into something more than polite. “Ian.” He held
out his hand.

“Lacy.” I grasped his palm. An image of those
large hands on my naked ass flashed through my brain.

Light blue eyes stared into mine, so pale
they would appear white in the right light. They contrasted well
with his tan. He didn’t spend every minute of his life behind a
desk. His touch lingered on my skin a moment longer than
appropriate before he slid his glasses into his breast pocket.

“So I can’t entice you with questionable
dining choices?” He leaned a little closer, deliberately invading
my personal space.

I didn’t step back. Instead, I stared out the
window for a second. Between the gloom and the rain, I couldn’t see
the directional lights on the tarmac. Everything was uncertain.
Bleary.

Just like my life right now. Maybe I needed
to race through that darkness to find the light on the other
side.

I turned back to Ian and smiled. “I’d love to
have dinner with you.”

* * *

The slight pressure of Ian’s hand on the
small of my back guided me through the crowded hallways. I relished
the contact for more than the feelings he aroused in me.

Voices rose as more brilliant red “CANCELLED”
statuses popped up on the boards. Airline employees kept pleasant
expressions embedded in their faces while their fingers danced on
keyboards, trying to reschedule irate passengers. The little
restaurant Ian steered me toward seemed an oasis of calm amid a
seething mob of frustration.

Instead of the typical airport bar and grill,
this nook looked like a four-star restaurant. Snowy linens lined
the tables. Silverware sparkled under the subdued lighting. Real
water glasses stood guard at each place setting.

Despite the tense hubbub in the airport
corridors, few people were in this restaurant. The hostess
immediately seated us with menus. When she left, I found myself at
a loss for words.

It had been so damn long since I’d flirted or
made small talk with an attractive stranger. Hell, I wasn’t even
this nervous about tomorrow’s interview. My impulse to take him to
bed seemed ridiculous now.

The server poured our water. Ian asked for
another minute, then laid down his menu. “Thank you for saying yes.
I’m a little rusty at inviting a beautiful woman to dinner.”

I realized I was staring at him and set down
my menu. “That’s a good line. I haven’t heard that one before.”
Great. My sarcasm was turned up to full. I wanted to kick myself
for letting my insecurities with men get the better of me. I
reached for my glass.

“How long ago was your divorce?”

I choked on the liquid in my mouth. Somehow,
I kept from spewing water across the table. “How-how—” I couldn’t
find any more words to refute his spot-on evaluation.

A wry smile quirked the corners of his mouth.
“I recognize the self-defense mechanism. Used it myself more times
than I care to count.”

“How long has it been for you?”

“Thirteen years.”

I blinked. How could someone as good-looking
as Ian run free for that long? “Does it get easier?”

He shrugged. “She left me with two kids to
raise. I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it.” He leaned
closer. “But I swore once my son was in college, I would start
dating again.”

“You haven’t dated since your divorce?” I
laughed. “I find that hard to believe. Hell, I find it hard to
believe anyone would leave someone as—” Heat blasted my cheeks at
what I’d almost said.

He chuckled. “You know the cliché about the
wife who busts her ass to put her husband through medical school,
then he dumps her? It works in reverse, too.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

He shrugged again. “You still haven’t
answered my question.”

I didn’t want to talk about my past. I’d
worked too hard to put it behind me. But his gaze penetrated my
soul, like he already knew my secrets.

“Five years, and mine
was
the typical
cliché. He was doing the company’s college intern on his desk at
the office.”

“Ouch.” His hand covered mine and squeezed
it. His offer of sympathy didn’t seem as condescending as my
friends, or former friends, had been. “Kids?”

I gave a slight shake of my head. “No, thank
god. We talked about it. But we were both focused on our careers,
and he said it would make the traveling we wanted to do difficult,
impossible even.”

“Let me guess. The two of you never went
anywhere.”

“No.” I stared at Ian’s hand. His heat seeped
into my skin, joined with the energy surging along my nerves. I
wanted, needed, deserved something pleasurable in my life,
dammit.

His lips parted. I desperately wanted him to
say, “Let’s find somewhere private.”

The moment evaporated at the return of our
server to rattle off the evening’s specials.

“Would you like a bottle of wine?” Ian
asked.

I held up a hand. “No, thank you. I have a
business meeting tomorrow morning.” The semi-truth rolled off my
tongue with ease. I didn’t want Ian feeling pressured if he knew I
might be moving to Tampa. This would just be a fling. A one-night
stand.

Except I’d never had a one-night stand in my
life.

We ordered dinner. After our big confessions,
we stuck to small talk. Sports. Current events. This crappy
weather.

All through the meal, we both found excuses
to touch each other. My fingertips lingered on his when we both
reached for the pepper. His calf brushed against my shin as he
stretched.

We playfully wrestled for the bill, but the
way one of his massive hands encircled both of my wrists as he
snatched the slip of paper from my grasp layered a new edge to what
had been semi-innocent flirting.

He didn’t release me. He watched me instead,
gauging every reaction with that piercing look.

God, help me, I didn’t want him to let go
either. I wanted him to hold me down, rip off my panties and have
his way with me on the table.

From the gleam in his eyes, the same scenario
ran through his mind.

“Let’s get out of here.” His low voice left
no doubt of his intent. He released my wrists, pulled out his
wallet and dropped several bills on the table. I took his proffered
hand, and we stood.

It took every ounce of willpower not to jump
him then and there.

Out in the main corridor of the airport, the
crowd had noticeably thinned. The overhead fluorescents flickered
and thunder rattled the huge windows. As we reached the airline’s
Gold Club suite, the lighting blacked out. The emergency generators
kicked on. A sickly glow fill the huge hallway as Ian knocked on
the door.

The concierge opened it and waved us inside.
A relieved smile filled her face. “There you are. Flight 246 has
been officially cancelled. Here’s your boarding passes for the
first flight tomorrow morning.” She handed us each our reissued
paperwork.

“I was processing your hotel vouchers when we
lost power,” she continued in a rush while she retrieved our
carry-ons from the locker behind her. “I don’t have any manual
vouchers here. Would you mind waiting a moment while I get some
from our office downstairs?”

“That will be fine,” Ian murmured.

She darted out the door, and it locked with a
quiet
snick
behind her.

Ian dropped his carry-on. The bag hit the
floor with a muffled thud. “What shall we do while we wait?” His
voice was low, husky, in my ear. His hands settled on my hips. His
clean, woodsy smell filled my head.

I looked up at him. Under the red emergency
lighting, he looked wicked. Dangerous. “Why don’t you show me?” I
whispered.