CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Ella
F redricks Elementary closes for the week of Spring Break. I’m thinking not much will change for Balor and me, other than I don’t have to rush out the door so early. Surely Balor will be busy with work as usual.
Only, I wake up to a blindfold lowered in front of my eyes and next, I’m lifted over a man’s shoulders, my ass in the air. I assume it’s a man, and I assume this man is Balor.
“What are you doing?” I pound on his back.
“I’m kidnapping you,” Balor says with a husky drawl.
“What time is it?”
“Early. The sun’s just coming up.”
“Where are you taking me? I need—”
“I packed everything for you last night after you fell asleep.”
Kidnapping with toiletries. Not too bad.
“Let me dress you.” Balor helps me slide into a long, wool dress and suede boots.
He even piles my hair on top of my head, masterfully twisting the band the way I do it to make a perfect messy bun.
He brings me to the bathroom to let me pee and brush my teeth. Kissing me, he says, “It’s because I know you’ll feel better. I love how you taste, twenty-four-seven.”
Then I’m lifted again, and cool air hits my skin.
I gasp. “Coat! I need my coat.”
“Already in the car, and already warmed up.”
Warmth surrounds me, and the mint scent of Balor’s air freshener tells me we’re in his Rivian.
“Balor, this is amazing. But please let me grab—”
His fingers pinch my mouth. “I grabbed everything for you. I’ve been watching you. ”
Through a camera at times, I suspect.
“I know you’re routine. I packed everything you need.”
“My phone?” I reach for it, not that I can see the screen.
“In my bag.” He revs the engine and kisses my nose.
Twenty minutes later, the car slows to a crawl, and then picks up speed. I catch the sound of a gate.
“This is killing me!” I screech.
“Just another thirty seconds, butterfly.” He makes a sharp turn and then stops again, cutting the engine.
His hands wrap around my head. “Kiss me.”
“No problem.” I lean in and his mouth devours me.
“I’ve never wanted lips as badly as these.”
Licking mine, I say, “Same here.”
“Are you ready?”
“I think...”
“Look.”
I slip the red satin blindfold off, and shock rolls through me. Before I process what the hell is in front of me, my gaze darts around the small airport. More like a private airfield.
“Uh oh,” I mutter.
“Problem?” Balor nuzzles my neck.
“No.” I take a deep breath. “Which plane is your brother’s?”
“None of them. Eoghan and Jillian took it to Vegas again.” He brushes my cheek. “Don’t you see it?”
I look more carefully, and the sleek jet parked on an angle is pure white, the bright sun rising behind it in the east. But across the body of the plane are...
“Butterflies.” I hold my mouth. “They make planes that you can rent with pink butterflies?”
“No. And this plane isn’t a rental.”
My gaze slides to his. “Keep talking.”
“It’s mine.” He grips my hand. “Ours. Yours, really. I had the butterflies added just for you. ”
Blushing, I don’t know how else to process this. I’d gone from being made to feel like rat feces on the bottom of someone’s shoe, to being adored by a billionaire mafia man who just bought me a goddamn plane.
“Is this some kind of early April Fool’s joke?”
“Not at all.” He waves off an attendant coming to collect us. “I have another confession.”
My heart drops. Did he sleep with someone else? Before we met again in that restaurant with my father? Or recently before we committed to each other? I have to be strong. No one’s perfect. “Go ahead. Tell me.”
“My brothers and I are competitive.” He smirks. “Between the plane, the dresses, the jewelry, and your initial escort fee, I’ve spent more than five million dollars on you.”
The amount stuns me. “I don’t want to keep the escort fee. How can I keep a plane?”
Balor thinks about that. “Consider the plane as a way to escape me if I act like a jerk.”
I can’t see him being that big of a jerk. “Your brothers do crazy things like this?”
“In their own way. Given their own circumstances. Kieran tore up his entire front lawn to plant his wife’s favorite flowers. Riordan ran into a burning building to save Priscilla. Lachlan...” Balor stops and turns red. “I’ll spare you his crazy stunts. Darragh wanted nothing to do with us, but moved his whole life home so Ana could reconcile with her father. Eoghan threatened to leave us if we didn’t accept Jillian, who was a prosecutor and tried to throw Ana and Cormac in jail.”
“What? For what?” I shriek.
“ That’s a long story.”
It’s making sense now why Balor had to buy a plane.
“All my brothers did crazy shit. I wanted to make a statement. ”
I glance at the plane, and I should be insulted. But it’s not uncommon for men to buy huge rings to impress friends and family, as well as the bride.
“Where are we going?”
“That’s another surprise.” He winks and gets out of the car.
The back cargo door pops open and I see through the rearview mirror that he’s handing over his leather duffle and a white leather tote. Not the suitcase I’d packed to stay with him.
Balor opens my door, and I take in his charcoal wool car coat and dress slacks. “Ready?”
“That’s an understatement.” I let him take my hand and lead me up the airstairs.
The sharp smell of leather and thick carpet combined with some other airy scent my brain will categorize as new-plane smell hits me.
“Is this plane...new?”
“Aye.” Balor smiles. “Not custom built. I picked it out from a few available.”
“When?”
“The other night, when you were asleep.”
“You left me—”
He presses his lips to mine. “Of course not. I bought it online.”
“With what? PayPal?”
“I wired the money.”
“You bought this sight unseen?” I spin around.
“I have a pretty good eye.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the cockpit.
“Do you know how to fly the plane, too?”
“No. But...” He knocks on the door.
The cockpit comes into view and the number of gauges boggles the mind. “Wow.”
“This is Arden, the pilot,” Balor says, looking smug. “ Your pilot.”
“Hi...Arden.”
“Hello, ma’am.” He tips his cap.
“Wanna tell me where we’re going, Arden?” I ask him, since Balor doesn’t want to tell me.
“That’s part of the surprise.”
My throat tightens. “What?”
“You pick, butterfly. These are your wings.” Balor kisses me.
“I don’t deserve this,” I say on a shaky breath.
“Yes. You do. You’re my woman. I want to do all this for you.”
“Why?”
“To prove to you how I feel.”
I back into a seat near the door. “It’s just so much.”
He lowers in front of me. “It’s not. You’ve just been conditioned to think that.”
Maybe he’s right. Looking around the plane, I think of Jillian, Katya, her sister, Ana, Priscilla, and Isabella, Balor’s brothers’ wives. With those stories of what their husbands did, it comes into focus. They’re not celebrities. They aren’t supermodels. They just had something about them that made their husbands fall for them.
By talking to each of them at the bridal shower, I discovered how different they all were. And down to earth.
Is it possible that Balor and I just connect as well as they did? I feel how we fit together.
This extravagance is how he shows what I mean to him.
I deserve this the same as all the O’Rourke wives.
Good Lord, I’m going to be one of them.
“Ready, butterfly?”
“Absolutely.” I smile and say, “Let’s figure out where to fly this thing.”
THE ANSWER IS OBVIOUS .
While heading south, Balor and I shower in the private bathroom suite.
Feeling fresh, I go through the packed bag and dress in a casual pair of jeans and a light lavender sweater.
Looking out the windows, Balor says, “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Paris, or London, or maybe Italy?”
“No.” I press my back into his chest while we curl up on one of the leather sofas. “Not right now. This is perfect.”
“You’re perfect.”
Looking down, I smile. “The Gulf of Mexico looks so amazing from up here.”
“Sure does,” Balor answers, talking on his phone. “All taken care of? Great.”
“I can’t believe this!” My heart kicks up to a crazy beat. And I don’t think it will ever stop.
FIVE DAYS LATER, WE climb back into the plane wearing mouse ears, beads, and for me, a pair of Tinker Bell wings.
“That had to be the fastest trip around the Magic Kingdom,” I say about our guided tour on a golf cart and skipping the line for every ride we missed the first day, because all we could do was walk around and stare in amazement.
Balor rented an Airbnb in an exclusive high-rise that overlooked the park.
We also hit Epcot, Universal, Sea World, and finished with a visit to Cape Canaveral where we met with astronauts and got to sit in a spacecraft!
Now I’m ready to go home and sleep in Balor’s bed.
“Did you have a good week?” he asks, brushing the hair out of my face behind the headband.
“The best. You?”
“Amazing. Because I got to spend this with you. Now, and not with seven brats and my cranky da.” He kisses me.
“I won’t tell Shea you called her a brat.” I sink into Balor’s arms and close my eyes because it’s dark and there’s nothing to look at outside.
“We should be in New York in four hours, folks,” Arden announces from the cockpit.
We eat takeout on the plane from a restaurant with a six-month wait for a reservation. After we finish, I’m so satisfied, I just nod off.
I wake up, and Balor is helping me into his Rivian, which he left at the airport. Twenty minutes later, we’re back in his townhouse, climbing the stairs.
This didn’t feel real. And yet, it was the five best days of my life.
So far.
THAT NIGHT WE MAKE love and wake up Friday morning and fuck again. Naked, sweaty, writhing, clawing at each other, and grunting like animals. The sex also gets more intimate between us each time.
“Christ, this is so hot. Fucking you while you’re pregnant with my baby,” he growls into my ear. “You’re so wet for me, Ella.”
We’ve been going at it like this all week.
I’ve been taking as much of Balor as I can get. I’m going home tomorrow. I don’t live here. Balor is my boyfriend and we’re having a baby. That’s how my mind sees it, even if packing my clothes will bring tears to my eyes.
My father is due home Saturday night. I have to be there.
Balor grips his headboard with one hand and squeezes my ass with the other, fucking me with the force of a freight train, groaning and growling.
“Fuuuuck,” he roars and spills inside me. “God, that was so good. We’re so good together.”
I wrap my legs around him tighter. “We are.”
“Are you happy?” he asks, nuzzling my neck.
“Of course I’m happy.”
“I don’t mean from the plane I bought you, or all the good sex,” he says wryly, sneaking a look at me.
“Oh. Then no. I’m not happy.”
“Brat. On your hands and knees.”
Biting my lip, I flip over, ready to beg for his cock in my ass, when my thoughts are cut short by someone pounding on Balor’s front door.
“Who the fuck is that?” Balor bites out, looking at his phone. He stares at his security camera app and mutters, “Uh oh.”
“What?” I say, choking on sobs building in my throat, thinking it’s Wes. It’s all been too good. It had to come crashing down.
“Get dressed. Right now .”
“What? Who’s at the door?” I pull on my yoga pants, waiting to hear my ex’s name fall off Balor’s lips with venom. Right after he used that mouth to give me immense pleasure.
He just stares at me stone-faced. “It’s your father.”