Sexy Berkeley (1) (4 page)

I must remember to send a 'thank you' note to wonderful Uncle William. Without him, we'd be stuck in economy and I'd never have had my enthralling make-out session with Sexy Berkeley here. I'll leave that bit out of the note.

Daniel Berkeley strolls down the aisle, staring at me, smiling the sexiest 'I-want-you' smile I've ever seen. 
Whoa! 
There's that tingle again, god damn it. He stands in front of me, gazing down into my eyes. "You really are a beautiful woman, Beatrice."
Swoon
.

My cheeks blush. "Why, thank you, Daniel. You're pretty beautiful yourself."

He sits, smiling, "So can we meet up while you're in Los Angeles? Go for dinner maybe?"

Oh, please don't tempt me, it's a path to destruction. I must be strong! "Daniel, as much as I'd love for you to do all of those naughty things to me, this is just a bit of fun to pass the time until we land in LA. Nothing more. It'd only get complicated if we meet up."

"Well, that's a real shame, Bea. It's going to be hard, literally..." he winks as he continues, "to think that I'll never get to peel those sexy jeans down your legs, see your hot naked body, taste you..."
Drooling...

"Hey! I think that's about as much of that talk as I can take."

He leans forward, taking my hands in his and I get a waft of his delicious smell again. "Kiss me," he says, his voice low, mellifluous. And it's not like he has to ask twice, I'm in there like my life depends on it. His tongue slowly joining mine, they move together, stroking, massaging, our lips parting further, allowing deeper access.

Picking up pace, it turns urgent, we can't taste the other enough, our teeth clash, an erotic, raw indication of our unsatisfied desire. Our hands searching, mine stroking his broad, muscular shoulders, his on my face and neck, trying to find some release from the agony of wanting.

"Fuck me," he whispers.

The whirlpool of electricity behind my pelvic bone is excruciating. Tingles run up my spine and through the soles of my feet, the goose bumps on my skin, painful. Every sensation craves release, I've never felt so powerless. I reach forward to touch him, there. He's hard, ready and...
wow
! He's a big boy! The fabric of his suit between our skin, an unwelcome barrier, the zip, an immense temptation. Should I? Could I? 

"Whoa," he says as he takes my hand and brings it to his mouth. He kisses the palm and presses it against his cheek, peering up at me. "If you continue to touch me, something will happen and I don't relish the thought of walking through LAX with a stain on my pants. I want to touch you though, baby, so badly. Yo
u couldn't have worn a skirt?" he shoots me a gorgeous, cheeky smile and I melt.

"If only I was!" I fan my face with my spare hand and look to the ceiling.

He holds my hands in front of him. "I'm going to have to sit back at my seat soon, ready for landing. Are you going to be ok while we land?"

"I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you. I'm surprised that there wasn't much turbulence during the flight, actually."

"Oh baby, there was, I just think you were a little pre-occupied to notice," he raises an eyebrow and smirks.

Is that what this was all about? Was he just pre-occupying me so that I wasn't afraid? I hope not, although, it did work, if that was his intention.

"If you need me, throw your hand back and I'll hold you."

"Thank you, I'll see how I go."

All too soon, hot-lips is back in his seat and we're approaching the runway. I'm surprised that I'm only a little tired, considering it's about three in the morning, GMT. I plan on getting to Gemma’s house, unpacking and enjoying a cup of tea before heading straight to bed. It's about seven pm here so that should work out well.

The landing was smooth, and I managed to remain relatively calm. I raised my hand once as we were seconds from touching down, to search for Daniel's, which quickly swamped mine and held it firmly until the aircraft slowed. He's either really smooth, or actually quite compassionate. It's no odds to me either way, but, for the sake of the women of California, I hope it's the latter.

As everybody stands to retrieve their hand luggage, Daniel looks at me and smiles. "I suppose this is it."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, thank you so much for helping me with take-off and landing. And all the fun bits in the middle." I blush and smile, looking down at my toes.

"Beatrice, it was my pleasure, and I mean that sincerely. It seems such a shame that we have to say goodbye now. Shall we?" He holds out his hand to let me walk towards the exit ahead of him.

"Thank you."

When I get to the ramp, Tilly is waiting for me and we all stroll together towards passport control.

"Tilly, this is Daniel Berkeley, he was sitting behind me."

"Well hello there," she purrs with a cheeky wink.
Oh my god, Tilly, did you have to?

"Daniel, this is one of my best friends, Tilly Burton."

"Miss Burton, a pleasure. Where are you two headed? I'd love to offer you a ride, if I can?"

"Thank you for the offer, but my brother-in-law is collecting us, so we're fine for a lift. You could always take my lovely friend, here, out for some dinner though?"
Oh dear lord!

Before Daniel gets a
chance to respond, I intersect, "Thank you Tilly, for your interference, but I'm sure Daniel is a very busy man, and I am quite tired, so would like to get settled at your sisters and go straight to bed." 

"Suit yourself," she sniggers, and I glance at Daniel who is looking ahead with a smirk.
God, how embarrassing.

As we approach passport control, Daniel stops. "Well, ladies, unfortunately we'll go through separate lines here. Miss Burton, it was a pleasure meeting you, I hope you enjoy your vacation. Miss Hart, could I have a quick word over here please, before I go?" He motions to an area at the side, away from the steady flow of passengers.

"Oh, of course. Tilly, could you wait here for a second?"

"No probs, enjoy!" she smirks.

Daniel takes my hand and ushers me to the side. "Bea, do you really have to go? I would love to take you for dinner."

"I'm afraid so, Daniel."

He rests his briefcase at his feet and leans back against the wall. Placing his hands gently on my hips, he tugs me slowly towards his taut body. Sparks fly, yet again, I swear my knees would buckle beneath me if he wasn't holding me against him. A hot flush engulfs my body. "At least let me have one last kiss before you disappear?"

"What about all of these people?"

"Fuck the people," he whispers with a grin, and reaches up to curl one hand around the back of my neck. He pulls my face towards his into a mind blowing, panty-dropping, hardcore snog. My arms wrap around his neck, wanting as much as I can get.

A small groan escapes his throat and it sends shivers down my spine. I feel the tingle all the way down there and the warmth starts to pool in my core. I want him so much. How can I feel this way about a man I only met a few hours ago? I want, more than anything, to agree to meet up with him in LA, but I know it will cause more harm than good. Unless, of course, he's shit in bed, and that would actu
ally solve all of my problems, but I'm not letting it get that far, I'm on holiday. I need to tear myself away from this man and forever remember how exciting this flight to LA was, and leave it at that.

I've no idea how long we've been pressed up against the wall. I begin to realise where we are and slowly break away before airport staff have us removed.

He opens his stunning turquoise eyes and exhales loudly. "Whoa."

"Indeed. Thank you again, Daniel, for everything. I'm glad I met you."

"You too, Bea. Enjoy your vacation. I don't suppose you could arrange to be on all of my business flights? They will seem so terribly monotonous now."

"I'll do my best, although, sadly, I think it somewhat unlikely," I pout and step back, holding his hands.

"Beatrice, it is, unfortunately, time for us to go."

"Goodbye, Daniel."

He kisses my hand and I take one last look into those beautiful eyes before turning to walk back to Tilly. He strolls down towards passport control and looks back once before he's gone.

"Crikey, that was some game of tonsil tennis you had going on there, Bea, are you sure you don't want to see him again?"

I clasp my hands together over my heart and briefly close my eyes. "Oh Tils, you have no idea how much I want to see that man again, he was... unbelievable. But I can't do it to myself. This was fun, but if I see him again, I know I'll like him even more and I'll have to leave the states in nine days feeling miserable. Holiday romances always make me feel like crap when I return home. That is the last thing I want right now. I want a fun, fabulous holiday with my old chum knowing that I had the most exciting flight of my entire life on the way."

"Good for you, love. I totally understand." Tilly gives me a reassuring smile and we continue to passport control.

Walking through arrivals a while later, we find Gemma’s husband, Jay, waiting for us. We head straight for the car and arrive at the house in no time. Gemma is hopping up and down on the doorstep as we arrive and Tilly practically falls out of the car to get to her. I help Jay get the suitcases out of the boot and make my way over to the reunited sisters.

Gemma releases Tilly and offers me a warm hug. I've always gotten on well with Tilly's older sister, they're so alike, if you love one, you'll find it hard not to love the other. They even look the same, only Gemma has blonde hair, where Tilly's is golden brown with a cute, heavy fringe. They both have identical hazel eyes and dainty, elfin features. Tilly is tiny at 5'3" with a very petite frame, and Gemma is much the same, maybe a touch taller. She moved to LA about eight years ago, but the pair have remained just as close as they always were.

"Where's Jack?" Tilly asks her sister.

"He's sleeping now, I tried to keep him up but he was too tired. He'll be up bright and early to pester you tomorrow though."

"Good! I can't wait!"

Hmm. I picture a three year old bursting into my bedroom at some god forsaken hour, jumping on my bed and screaming at the top of his lungs. Oh dear god, is that what I've signed up for? I seriously hope not. I try to push that thought to the back of my mind and hope for the best.

We walk through the huge, beautiful lounge towards the sliding double doors that lead out onto the deck. The outside lights glisten in the water of the pool in front of us and the warm breeze makes a wonderful change to what we're used to at home. To the right of the pool, a couple of wide steps lead up to another sun deck, belonging to the pretty pool-house.

"This is stunning, Gemma, I love it!"

"Thank you Bea, I'm glad you think so. We built the pool-house for friends and relatives coming over from the UK and wanted it to feel like a holiday haven, so I hope you like it inside, too."

"I'm sure I'll love it, thank you so much for having me at such short notice."

"Nonsense, Bea, we're happy to have you. It's about time you came to visit!" she replies, warmly. 

"I'm actually starting to feel exhausted now, so I think I'll probably head in to unpack before hitting the hay, that ok with everyone?"

"Of course, love," Tilly replies, "you go and make a start and I'll be in in a bit."

Jay has left my suitcase in the pool-house for me so I head up the steps towards the french doors. I take a look at the pretty little house, it's a white, wooden house with a tiled roof. Very quaint. The front has double french doors with full length windows on either side.

I open the doors and walk into a stunning, nautical themed lounge room, the slatted wood walls and floor have been lightly white washed and a giant hessian rug covers most of the floor. The two plush sofas with washed-navy and white stripes, are crying out for me to kick back and take a seat. The curtains at the windows and doors match the fabric of the sofa and a pale blue chenille throw sits on the arm of each chair.

The stylish, white, antique furniture, housing a selection of navy and white vases, pots and candle holders, compliments the room perfectly. The table in front of the sofas has a pale blue vase filled with beautiful, short stemmed white roses. My favourites.

To the left of the french doors is a round white dining table and four chairs. The table is already set, with a vase of white roses in the centre. It's just like a mini show home. It's all very much my taste, I love it!

Beyond the table is a small kitchen which I'll explore later, and to the right of the living area is a small but ever-so-pretty bedroom. The walls are again white washed, and the double bed is the fluffiest, cosiest bed I've ever seen. A door leads to the small bathroom which has another door, giving access the lounge
, too. This really is a haven, I feel so lucky to be here.

I put some of my clothes in the chest of drawers in the lounge, making sure I leave room for Tilly's clothes, and hang most of my other bits in the large wardrobe in the bedroom. It took much less time than I thought, so I wander out onto the deck to soak in the lovely LA evening, before bed.