Layover (Open Skies #1) - Becca Jameson Page 0,15

Okay. Hmm. Then I guess you, uh…”

“I’m not ready to discuss it with you, okay? It’s kinda weird and personal and I’m still wrapping my head around it.”

“Okay. Sure. I get it. It’s not like I’m well-versed in any sort of kink anyway. I’m just, well, I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“Thank you. That means a lot. Really. I appreciate it, and thanks for looking out for me, even though you’re a date-and-a-half too late,” Libby joked, chuckling. “Now, text me his number so I can call him before he gets his panties in a wad. As you obviously know, the man doesn’t like to be challenged.”

“Got it. Good luck. Be careful.”

“Be careful? You just went to a great deal of trouble pointing out he was a good guy and I was in good hands,” Libby teased.

“He is. I meant with your heart.”

Libby flinched. Destiny was right. There was little concern for her physical wellbeing. Her heart was another story.

The moment Libby ended the call, there was a knock at the door. She shuffled over and opened it to find a teenager holding a narrow vase with a single rose in it. “Delivery for Libertad Garcia.”

She smiled as she took it from him. Apparently, even though she hadn’t tracked Jason down until just now, he’d found her information. The man had been busy this morning. Impressive.

As she shut the door, she leaned in and inhaled the scent. It wasn’t until she’d carried the rose over to set it on the counter that she noticed there was no card. Nothing. Just the rose.

So, the man was romantic and mysterious.

And dominant, she reminded herself.

Chapter 6

Jason smiled when his phone indicated there was an incoming text. His little imp had kept him waiting. It was five minutes until noon. He wasn’t surprised. He’d expected as much.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and dropped onto his couch, keeping the face of his phone against his jeans for a few more seconds. He needed to get himself under control. He’d never been this interested in a woman before. He didn’t want to fuck it up.

Finally, he lifted his phone to read her text.

Reporting in as demanded before noon, Sir.

He nearly swallowed his tongue. His cock jumped to attention. Holy shit. She’d even called him Sir. It wasn’t a term he had ever demanded from a submissive, but he liked the sound of it. Except for her tone, which he could easily discern. He smiled as he responded.

What a sassy little girl. Do you have any idea what happens to sassy girls?

He waited, wiping his palm on his jeans, his other hand shaking. How the fuck had this little imp gotten under his skin? He wanted her so badly he was chomping at the bit.

Finally, a response.

No… But I’m sure you’ll inform me.

He smiled again as he typed.

Count on it. I’ll demonstrate in fact. With my palm. Tonight. I’ll text you my address. Be here at seven.

He knew he was being presumptuous. He also gambled that she would not turn him down. He’d bet his last dollar she would rearrange any plans she might have had to get to him.

Cocky. What if I’m not available tonight?

Make yourself available. Seven. Sharp. See you then. Oh, and baby girl, if you wear panties to my house, you won’t see them again.

He followed that text with his address, guessing she wouldn’t respond.

She didn’t.

Now he just needed to occupy his time for the next seven hours so he wouldn’t lose his mind waiting for Libby to arrive.

Chapter 7

What the hell was she thinking? Libby was decidedly out of her mind. Showing up at Jason’s door this evening had to have been the most hairbrained idea of her life.

Sure, she’d had a one-night stand. Yes, it had been the best sex of her life, hands down. Yes, she realized she would never experience anything even close to that again. Still…returning for more was ludicrous. She already knew based on her reaction to Jason the night in his hotel room and last night outside the bar that she would melt the moment he opened the door. He brought out something in her she hadn’t known existed. It both scared her and exhilarated her.

She stood on his front porch for several moments, wringing her hands together while she stared at the door. She was still working up the nerve to knock when the door opened. Of course. He easily could have seen or heard her pull into his driveway and