Chapter 40
HANNAH
When I told Happy I didn’t want to spend a minute longer than I had to in the state of South Carolina, anywhere near my mother, he said he’d take care of it.
And when I walked out of the bathroom, showered, wearing a sweatsuit, my hair a tangled wet mess, I was met with Happy standing there in his suit pants and white button down, our bags packed, ready to get me out of there.
Now, as we pull up to a private airfield just outside of Charleston, where there’s a small plane waiting, I cast him a confused glance.
“I told you—I’ve got you, baby. Always.”
“Yeah, but a private jet?” I gasp. “Happy!”
He chuckles. “Calm down, Baby Draper. It’s my dad’s. It’s how I got down here this morning.”
My eyes widen. I knew Jonny Slater was famous. I didn’t realize he was owns a private jet famous.
When the car pulls up on the tarmac, Happy hops out first, holding his hand for me, and I take it, allowing him to help me out.
And it’s moments like these that make me realize that it’s a damn shame I didn’t give him a chance sooner because, despite his fuck-boy past, the man is a gentleman, a sweetheart to the core.
“Good evening, Mr. Slater.” A raven-haired flight attendant greets us at the top of the steps, smiling at me. “Hannah, I presume?”
I nod. “Hi.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says genuinely. “My name is Chelsea, and I’ll be looking after you this evening. Please, make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring you some refreshments.”
“Thank you.” I smile, allowing Happy to take my hand and lead me into the cabin. It’s small but luxurious, with soft lighting, plush tan leather, and travertine finishes. I suddenly feel way underdressed.
“I should’ve kept my dress on,” I whisper.
Happy looks back at me with a smirk. “What? Why?”
“Wearing sweats in a private jet feels like blasphemy. I’m not a Kardashian.”
“You can take ’em off if it’d make you feel better,” Happy says with a shrug, sagging down in one of the tan leather chairs, the grin curling his lips.
I roll my eyes, playfully swatting a hand at him, but before I can take a seat in the chair across the aisle, he grabs me by my waist and pulls me onto his lap in a move that steals the air from my lungs, the look in his eyes intense.
“I’m sorry,” he says, surprising me.
“Sorry?” My brows knit together. “For what?”
“I’m just so sorry that… that is your mom.” He winces.
A thick swallow works its way down my throat.
“And I hope you know that she’s wrong in every way.
And that you are enough, and you always have been,” he says, staring deep in my eyes.
“You’re beautiful. You’re kind. You’re selfless.
You’re funny. You’re so damn smart. You’re enough, Hannah.
You’re more than enough. And people like your mom do not fucking deserve you. ”
“Thank you,” is really all I can say because I’m actually speechless.
Happy positions me on his lap so that I’m facing him, and his hands trail up from my hips, cupping my cheeks, steadying me with a serious look.
“And I need you to know that I will never again stand back and let anyone disrespect you like what I witnessed back there. Not your mom. Not assholes like that Baby Gap looking motherfucker, Peter. Not even your dad. You’re mine now, Baby Draper.
And I will crack a skull for you if I have to. ”
“Wow, that was—” I pause to consider my words. “Violent… but sweet.”
He grins. “You know me. I’m a lover not a fighter. But when it comes to you and my Lucky girl, I’m a pit bull, and I will fight to the fucking death.”
Overwhelmed with an emotion I’ve never felt before, I wrap my hands around the back of his head, tangling my fingers through his soft hair, and I lean in, pressing my lips to his, our kiss deep and unhurried, full of such meaning, making it so much more than just a kiss.
“Um, excuse me?”
I startle, almost jumping off Happy. He grabs my hips, keeping me right where I am, grinning casually up at the flight attendant as she stands right there, smiling as if catching us making out is no big deal.
But this is Jonny Slater’s jet; she’s probably immune to whatever happens in this aircraft.
Ew. I hope it’s been recently sanitized.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Slater,” she apologizes. “The captain is ready when you are.”
“I could get used to flying private,” I say twenty minutes later while sipping a glass of champagne at forty-five thousand feet.
I’ve only ever flown commercial, and never anything more than premium economy.
But relaxed back in a leather recliner, my socked feet kicked up, and a whole mini bar full of drinks and snacks? This is the life.
Happy moves to the lounge in front of me, grabbing my feet and pulling them up into his lap, his thumbs pressing into trigger points I didn’t even know I had, causing me to stifle moan.
“You ever joined the mile high club?” he asks with a cheeky smile, his dark eyes dancing beneath the dimmed lights of the cabin.
“No!” I balk, quirking a brow. “Have you?”
He snorts. “No comment.”
My eyes widen. “Oh, God. It wasn’t with—” In case Chelsea is nearby and might hear me, I don’t say her name, instead nodding to the door she’s been coming and going from.
Happy’s brow furrows. “What? No! She’s married to the guy flying this thing, by the way.”
My shoulders relax, but I offer a rueful smile because that was a massive generalization.
“Besides, this isn’t about me,” Happy says, leaning forward and grabbing my hands, pulling me up from my chair and back onto his lap. He presses his lips to the base of my neck, right where the pulse point is. “This is about you…”
“Happy!” I chastise him half-heartedly. “Chelsea might walk in.”
“Nope. There’s an unwritten rule,” he murmurs against my skin. “While we’re in the air, she doesn’t come in unless someone presses the call button.”
I shudder from feel of his breath fanning against me, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Chelsea made the rule herself after walking in on my dad more than once. So, we all abide, and she doesn’t have to risk copping an eyeful of my old man’s saggy balls.” He chuckles, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot that makes my toes curl.
“Oh my God,” I laugh through a moan, tilting my head to the side to give him better access to my hot spot while he toys with the hem of my sweater, inching it higher and lighting up my skin with feather-light grazes of his fingertips.
“Feel what you do to me, Baby Draper?” Happy gruffs, shifting his hips, his hard length pressing against my core.
“Uh-huh.” I bite down on my bottom lip to stifle my sounds, but it’s hard. He’s hard. As stone. And I can’t help but grind against him, suddenly needy in the way only Happy Slater makes me.
Happy moves his hand between my thighs, rubbing me through my sweats. “Is this needy pussy nice and wet for me?”
I moan, nodding, because I am so fucking turned on right now.
“Let’s get these off,” he says, pushing my pants down over my hips. And all inhibitions and concerns of flight attendants walking in are gone, and I’m suddenly bare from the waist down.
“Now,” Happy says, gently smacking my ass and shifting beneath me, laying back on the couch, “come sit on my face like I’ve been dreaming about ever since you mentioned it at the wedding. I wanna hear you scream at fifty thousand feet.”
My jaw drops, and I swear, I almost come as he lies there just grinning at me all expectantly. Moving over him, I hover, but instead of easing into it, he snakes his arms around my thighs, grabs my ass cheeks, and forces me down until I don’t know even know if he can breathe or not.
“Oh, shit!” I gasp out when his tongue unleashes on me, licking me everywhere.
He groans, and the vibrations only add to the sensation as he growls at me, eating me like he’s been starved all day.
I steady myself, gripping the back of the couch with one hand and threading my fingers through his hair with the other, my hips moving of their own accord, searching for more, for all, for everything he can give me.
When he slides his tongue inside me, I throw my head back with a rasped, broken groan, riding his face while he fucks me with his tongue, the bridge of his nose grazing my clit in the most delicious way.
“Holy fuck,” I sob. “So… fucking… good.”
He doesn’t speak. I don’t think he could even if he tried.
And I miss his filthy words, but the way he groans and moans and growls, the way he grasps my ass to the point of pain as he rocks me over him, is everything.
His tongue alternates between fucking me and licking me with firm, determined strokes from my ass to my clit and back again.
He wraps his lips around my clit, sucking hard.
The coil of need low in my belly tightens as spots dot the edges of my vision. I’m a writhing, panting mess, so fucking close it’s almost infuriating because I want to come so bad, but I also never want this feeling to stop.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I whimper, my thighs quaking with my impending orgasm as I fuck his face, tearing at the longer lengths of his hair. “Oh, you’re such a good fucking boy, owning my pussy with your perfect tongue.”
Happy groans in response, slapping my ass cheek hard and palming it roughly.
“Oh, fuck, I’m going to come, baby.”
Happy mutters something unintelligible, sucking hard on my clit. And that’s all it takes before I’m tumbling over the edge headfirst, as bliss erupts in my belly, thrashing on top of him, and crying out without a care who hears me.
When I’m too sensitive, I move off Happy, gasping for breath, and he relents, wriggling out from under me. And when I see his face, covered in my release, my mouth falls open and my cheeks heat because holy shit, I almost drowned him.
“Oh my God!” I scoff, reaching out and wiping at the mess on his chin. “I’m so sorry.”
Happy stops me, instead sticking his tongue out and licking up as much of my cum as he can reach before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning as he licks his skin. “So fucking sweet,” he utters.
I should be embarrassed, but he seems to love it so much, it’d be a waste of energy for me to worry.
“You are… fucking perfect, Baby Draper.” Happy grabs me, pulling me to him and kissing me. And I moan at the way his tongue glides into my mouth like he owns it, tasting myself on him.
I pull him closer, trying to deepen the kiss, but he cups my cheek, holding me back as he pulls away just enough to look at me, his dark, glazed eyes searching mine for a moment.
“What is it?” I ask, suddenly worried by the shift in his demeanor.
“I need to tell you something—” He stops himself, raking his teeth over his swollen bottom lip.
I stare at him, waiting, not even breathing. But just as he opens his mouth to talk, the seatbelt signs in the cabin illuminate with a gentle yet startling chime followed by the dinging of the speakers.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Slater,” the captain’s deep voice comes through. “We’re entering some rough weather over Maryland, and it’s suggested that all passengers please return to their seats and fasten their seatbelts, and we’ll be through the worst of it in a matter of moments.”
I scramble for my discarded clothing, quickly pulling my panties and sweats on with Happy’s help before we both move back to our designated seats and fasten our seatbelts, just as Chelsea walks through the door with a generic smile, tiding up and securing any loose items in the cabin.
I turn to Happy to find him already watching me, tugging on his bottom lip, the look in his eyes faraway and contemplative. “What did you need to tell me?”
He offers me a small smile, shaking his head once with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It can wait.”
He turns his head, and I watch him as he looks out the window, at the erratic flicker of what I assume to be lightening flashing through the darkness of night outside.
And as the plane bumps and shudders with turbulence, falling out of the sky is the last of my worries because knowing that Happy has something he needs to tell me is enough to take my mind off everything else as I imagine nothing but the worst.