So beautiful.
“Cancel that ticket, baby. You’re not flying commercial.”
VLOG ONE: Carmen.
Okay, so I’m about to land and I’m pretty nervous.
It’s been a long time.
I’m not too worried, though.
Teddy and I are pretty locked in.
*sigh*
Still. It’s been so long.
I know he loves me, I just hope he still likes me.
Ciao, Theodore!
Arrival Day.
My life had been pure hell without Carmen Reyes.
The number of fantasies I’d racked up about having her back in my arms…yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d be locked up if anyone ever got a look inside my head.
Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to wait much longer to hold the real thing.
The noise from the engines faded as the private jet taxied to a stop on the sunlit tarmac. I was seconds away from ripping the damn doors open with my bare hands.
Three fucking years.
Three years of short weekends in L.A., late-night video calls, a million text messages, and enough phone sex to short-circuit a satellite.
All of it stopped today. It was a short pause, but I was grateful for it.
And finally—finally—the doors cracked open. I moved fast, stopping at the base of the stairs, fists clenching and unclenching like my body couldn’t decide whether to keep it together or lose its mind.
Then I saw her.
Carmen appeared in the doorway, and I fought to maintain my composure until she was safely on solid ground.
She swayed a little, hugging a champagne glass like it was a prized possession. Either she’d made excellent use of the in-flight bar, or the jet lag was kicking her ass. Maybe both, judging by the tipsy little grin she gave me.
I missed her so much that the sight of her made my chest tighten to the point of pain.
Even dressed down in a simple gray tracksuit, she looked like something I dreamed up last night when I couldn’t sleep because my mind kept imagining all the things I’d do to her.
Her blown-out, darkened blonde curls reached the bottom of her ass and bounced with every movement. She’d let her roots grow out and blend gorgeously. The lowered zipper of her jacket slightly exposed her cleavage, and the matching bottoms rode just below her belly button. Fresh, manicured hands and whitened teeth beamed in the sunshine as she smiled and waved at the crew.
“You’re gripping that glass pretty hard, Sweetness,” I called up to her.
Without missing a beat, she raised it in a mock toast—and then drained it in one long, defiant sip before handing it off.
“You wish that was you, huh?” she teased.
I laughed, low and rough.
