Chapter Thirty-Three: Figuratively Speaking

Lincoln

The flight to Los Angeles was already starting off on a bad note. Not only because I got seated in the middle right between Reed and Sienna, but also because, even in first class, I had a kid sitting behind me who kept kicking into my spine with the force of fucking Hercules. I tried to close my eyes and listen to music, then pulled out a science fiction novel to try and immerse myself into a different world. To my avail, the kicking continued, and for the first two hours of the flight, I was miserable.

Reed, sitting to my left in the aisle seat, fell asleep during the first ten minutes of the flight. I guess he gets motion sickness, so he takes a pill that knocks him out. Sienna is sitting on my right in the window seat, her thigh pressed up against mine. She warned me about a thousand times before I met her at the airport to keep it professional. Rachel and Margo are both attending as well, sitting in the row ahead of us, and per Sienna, Rachel has a tendency to blab her mouth, so it was imperative that I keep what we're doing together under wraps for the remainder of this trip.

So, yeah, between the kicking, the middle seat, and having Sienna be off-limits? Total. Fucking. Nightmare.

I let out a sigh and run my hands over my forehead to try and stop the throbbing that's already formed from my frustration. Sienna notices and pops an AirPod out of one ear. "Are you okay?" she asks, and then she hears the kicking, glancing behind over her shoulder to figure out what's producing the noise.

I don't ask her to, but she turns around fully and pokes her head through the threshold of the seats, and says, "If you were going to bring a child who kicks the entire fucking way, you should have purchased economy. Have you ever flown first class before? There are standards up here."

The adults accompanying the child let out a scoff, but neither of them says anything back to Sienna. The kicking subsides moments later. I forget how intimidating this woman really is, but in that pink power suit she's wearing, it's hard to be anything but intimidated. Seeing her stride so confidently through the airport today was a huge turn-on. She turned heads with each step she took in those heels, and although she portrays herself to be this badass woman, there are so many layers to her that I'm enjoying the hell out of discovering.

She's strong and opinionated, but also vulnerable and timid at times. Just when I think I've got her figured out, she does something that makes me second-guess myself, like cussing out a child for kicking a seat in first class.

"I told you we should have taken my jet," Sienna says.

"For the environment, I'd rather have a kid kicking me in the back the entire way than waste all of that money for a six-hour flight."

She arches a perfectly lined brow up. "Suit yourself, Lincoln. I'll let the booger-infested-germ-fest have at it if he starts back up again."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're going to be an incredible mother someday?" I tease.

"Who says I want to be a mother?"

"Well, it would certainly make me relieved then after hearing you call him..." I trail off, attempting to think of the nickname. "Remind me again of the nickname you came up with?"

"A booger-infested-germ-fest?"

I nod. "Precisely."

Her lips twitch, threatening a smile, and then I feel the outside of her thigh press even tighter against mine. It takes everything for me not to grab onto her knee. "Does that bother you?"

I'm so distracted by the feel of her thigh that I forgot what we were even talking about. "What?" I ask.

"The possibility of me not wanting kids."

"Should it bother me?"

She's the one wanting to take things slow, and now she's talking about kids. Sometimes I wonder if maybe her heart is more open than her mind because otherwise, things wouldn't just slip up like that. It makes me...happy to know that she's considering that part of our lives together. She sees a future with me.

Sienna remains silent in her seat deep in thought. I can see the wheels churning in her head. She's panicking. She's wishing she never said a damn thing about kids, and to ease her mind, I say, "If a woman that I was serious with, figuratively speaking, of course, didn't want to have kids in the future, I'd be okay with that if the connection was strong enough."

"Figuratively speaking, of course," she replies.

"Of course."

Again, that ghost of a smile brushes against her lips as all falls back into place between us, the calm and synchronized rhythm that always seems to flow just as Margo turns around in her chair and hisses, "You're lucky Rachel is passed out. Some of us are trying to read, so if you could please keep all of these figurative scenarios out of earshot that would be fantastic."

Sienna lifts her brows in shock. "Is she always this bitchy? She was so nice before at your office."

"Because I thought your hot friend would be coming with you on this trip and I wanted you to like me," Margo replies, not letting me speak. "But alas, she didn't join, did she?"

I lean forward, resting my arm above her seat. "There's a way to get to know her, Margo, and that doesn't include wishing and hoping for a miracle. I already told you where she worked."

"Wait, is she talking about Riley?"

Margo turns back around in her seat. "Sh. I'm trying to read."

"I like her," Sienna decides.

I can't hide the smile off my face the rest of the ride there.

***

I used to love coming to Nash Hotels. I distinctly remember taking road trips or flights with my dad to visit a location that was either doing really well or really poorly. Jett would tag along sometimes too, and together we'd play ding dong ditch when my dad fell asleep, running and screaming through the halls, drawing complaints from the guests. We were young and stupid, not old enough to realize how much trouble we were causing.

I've never visited a location since he passed, and yes, I'm aware that's probably one of the reasons this company is failing. I never claimed to be the best CEO, but with Sienna's help, I'm starting to get better. I'm still not finished with my business plan, but it's getting there. I should have it done within the week.

"Are you okay?" Margo leans over to squeeze my forearm, and Sienna stops wheeling her suitcase, glancing over her shoulder in front of us to watch me carefully. Rachel is right beside her, so she can't say anything, but I can see in her eyes how badly she wishes she could comfort me.

"I'm fine," I tell both of them. "It's just been awhile."

We head for the reception desk inside, and I almost cringe when I see the lobby. Yellow-stained tiled floors and cheap furniture cloud my vision, and when we reach the front desk, I notice all of the cracks in the hardwood.

"Mr. Nash, what a pleasure to meet you." The receptionist sticks her hand out to shake mine. "We were so excited to hear of the plans you have. I've been running this location for ten years now, and I'm ecstatic to see what renovations you come up with."

The woman looks like she's in her mid-forties, with a chip in her front tooth and a round, chubby face. I'm honored she's worked with my company for so long.

"Everything is ready for your media day tomorrow," she continues. "I made sure to have the cleaning crew stay late."

I give her a warm smile. "Thank you. It means a lot."

She slides five plastic cards across the counter for our rooms, and since we left at eleven in the morning to get here, it's only one in the afternoon because of the time difference. I'm in desperate need of a nap after being kicked in the back for two hours.

Rachel, Margo, and Reed get off on the third floor, and when the doors to the elevators close again, Sienna scoffs. "You couldn't put me on the same floor as them?"

"Eh, probably not best to have you on the same floor when you'll be sneaking into my room later, right?"

"We're colleagues for this trip," Sienna reiterates. "I won't be sneaking anywhere tonight."

"Naive little thing," I tease, "thinking you can stay away from this cock for so long. It's been, what? A week now?"

"I think you're just getting yourself riled up at this point. I can control myself for forty-eight hours. You, however, seem to be thinking nothing but dirty thoughts, Mr. Nash."

Even though she's acting like I'm not getting to her, I see how her thighs press tightly together. I notice how she shifts her weight, moving closer to me unintentionally. I'll definitely be having her tonight. I just have to play my cards right.

"Okay, Ms. Stone," I drawl. Her thighs press together again. "Have it your way, then, but just know that my room is right next to yours, so it wouldn't take much for you to slip inside and take what I know you're craving right now."

"I'm not craving it," she lies.

"Okay, then maybe I'll slip into your room instead because I'm craving it." I take a step closer to her in the elevator. "Would you tell me to stop if I did?"

She gulps as she gazes up at me, and when I take another step closer toward her, chest to chest, I have a devilish grin on my lips when she's practically panting. "Would you tell me to stop?" I repeat.

"Y-yes. If anyone caught us, this entire thing could go down the drain, Linc. We can't risk that."

I glance behind me at the red button on the elevator and hit it before I can tell my brain to think otherwise. The buzzer sounds, and when I turn to face Sienna again, she's still taking deep breaths until her eyes drop to my mouth. "No one can catch us in here though, right?" I ask.

And then she pounces. I tug her hips against mine, letting out a groan I've been holding in for too long as my mouth crashes to hers. A week since I've kissed these lips. A week since I've felt this warmth between us.

My hands drag into her hair, and then we stagger backward, her back unintentionally hitting the wall. I skate my mouth over her jaw, her throat, the top of her breasts...

"We shouldn't be doing this," she gasps. "Someone's going to need to use the elevator."

"It's my fucking hotel. We can do whatever the fuck we want."

I shove my hand up underneath her skirt and palm her over her lace panties. She's soaking wet, as predicted. I'm rubbing her with one hand while the other fumbles with the buckle of my dress pants. It's hot now in the tiny space, my thoughts consumed by nothing but her as I hike her up into my arms, legs around my waist, and keep her pinned against the wall.

There's no condom with me, but she's told me she's on birth control. Thank fuck she nods, seeming to be thinking the same thing, so I slam inside her without another word, the wetness overpowering me.

I don't have it in me to make this long. No time for dirty talk. No time for teasing. We're in an elevator, so the quicker the better.

With a fistful of her hair, I tug her head back to force her to look me in the eyes while I fuck her. I thrust roughly, balls fucking deep inside of her, and I groan when I see the look on her face.

Her eyes are heavy-lidded, her mouth slightly ajar as I pound into her. It's the look of vulnerability that I love most, though. When I stare into her eyes, I know that nobody else before has made her feel this way. Just me.

"Linc," she whimpers, half in, half out of it, looking dazed as she quickly comes undone.

I pump in and out as I ride her high, a new wave of wetness rushing onto my cock, and between that and her tiny moans, that's all I need to shoot off like a rocket inside of her.

Both panting and out of breath, there's no time to recollect ourselves. We both push away from each other, her pulling her skirt down as I buckle my belt and zip up my pants before I push the button again to take us to our floor.

"I had to get that quickie out of the way so that I'll last longer for you tonight," I say smugly, still out of breath.

Her mouth twitches. "There won't be tonight, Mr. Nash."

The elevator doors open, and when we head down the hallway toward our rooms, we stop right next door to each other. "If you change your mind, you know where I'll be," I tease. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Sienna."