"What the...?"

Paige had never been on a helicopter. Not even the ones at the carnival. Come to think of it, she'd only been to a carnival twice in her whole life. Both times with her grandmother. Those two times probably took every dime she'd managed to save in a year.

She was the best thing that ever happened to Paige. The person she was today was all thanks to her grandmother. Due to hard work and a firm hand, she'd taught Paige how to find her own way in this world. How to go after all she wanted.

Paige had done that. Fought hard to achieve her goals.

Now love had found her. Several times, as a matter of fact. She'd just been too stubborn, too angry with the world, to grab hold.

Not this time. This time she was going to wrap her arms, legs, her whole f.u.c.king body, around it and never let go.

A golf cart appeared almost as soon as the driver parked near the helipad. The same blue helicopter that had always made Paige growl in jealousy was dead ahead, blades whipping around with a chugging, whooshing sound that sort of sucked at the air.

It didn't look so ugly this time. Or so intimidating.

Instead, it looked rather welcoming. Ready to take Paige on her newest life adventure.

Paige and her boxes were transported to the cart and then driven to the edge of the pad. From there, they ducked and ran for the tin can.

She was disappointed to see the s.p.a.ce inside empty save for another package on the seat. Where was Mayson? Was Paige expected to fly all the way to Jamaica by herself?

Once inside, she was given instructions from the pilot and then they lifted off the ground. She stared down over Galveston, her town, the place she'd been her entire life save for one vacation where her s.e.xual life was changed.

She felt high. Free. Excited.

With a smile, Paige ripped into the box. Blue jeans, shorts, even sundresses, filled the inside. Again, all in a.s.sorted styles and colors. She'd never felt like such cheap royalty.

Tears welled. This was really happening. To Paige. To the girl who had lived her whole life with barely a penny. Who had lived most of her life hating rich people for no legitimate reason. She'd been so callous for too many years, and one person, one good person, was changing her mind faster by the second.

Mayson might truly be the most giving person she'd ever met. And she was getting closer to her. She was going to kiss her. Was going to wrap herself around her like warm sunbeams. Then she was going to beg Mayson to take her again. And again. Until she begged for peace.

Paige found another note. I can't wait to taste you, Fedora.

Heat jabbed between Paige's thighs. She squeezed her legs tightly together and willed this f.u.c.king tin can to get her to her next pit stop. She couldn't get in Mayson's arms fast enough.

Finally, the helicopter set down on a runway. Once again, a cart appeared and rushed to get her and her gifts, then sped her to the main building where a uniformed guard escorted her through a door into a large hall thronged with lines of people and scary-looking equipment.

"This way, miss," he said, steering her to one side where there was an empty lane. "May I have your pa.s.sport?"

As if in a dream, Paige placed her new possessions onto the conveyor belt. It rumbled into life, and everything disappeared into a void behind a rubber curtain.

"Miss?" The guard beckoned her forward through a large arch.

Miraculously, her gifts awaited on the other side. The security guard signaled her to collect the presents, then he handed back her pa.s.sport and led her back through the unmarked door to rejoin the cart. Once she was back on board, it started down the tarmac to where a private jet was waiting.

She could hear the whine of engines as they drew near.

Would Mayson be there? Was Paige wishing for something Mayson couldn't give her right now? She was no doubt in Jamaica, helping people, being a d.a.m.n hero.

A hero she was. She was Paige's hero.

f.u.c.k. Could this cart going any faster?

The stairs rolled down as they neared. Paige held her breath, prayed, begged, for the sight of Mayson.

With a jolt, the cart stopped. The stairs landed on the concrete.

And there she was in the doorway.

Glory G.o.d. Mayson.

Paige bit back a moan as she was escorted from the golf cart, unable to tear her gaze from Mayson, afraid she'd disappear if Paige even so much as blinked.

Love poured through her as she was led to the bottom of the steps.

She was in love with Mayson Montgomery.

And from the look of that dimpled smile, Mayson felt the same. G.o.d, it was written all over her face.

Somehow, Paige managed not to race up every step. And finally, she reached the landing.

Mayson had never felt anything like this.

Happy. She was so happy. Happy in love.

She was never going to let this go. Never going to let Paige go.

Paige crested the stairs and Mayson palmed her cheeks, then pulled her into a kiss. She didn't care who was watching. Didn't care about anything other than slicking her tongue inside Paige's mouth.

Arms draped around her neck and Paige kissed her harder, pressing into her.

Mayson could feel her want, her desire, as she pulled back to stare down over Paige. "What took you so long...Fedora?"

Paige smiled up at her. "All great things come with time. Isn't that what they say, Vinden?"

Mayson pulled her inside the jet with a grunt.

The pilot stepped out of the c.o.c.kpit while the stairs rolled up and the doors closed. He tipped his hat to Paige before settling his sights on Mayson. "We're ready for takeoff."

"Thank you, Peter. We're going to catch a nap during the ride. I'll let you know if we need anything." Mayson glanced over at Paige.

She took Paige's hand while the pilot retreated to the c.o.c.kpit and led her to the back of the airplane. It was a tiny room with a tiny bed, but it had served her purpose over the years. Sometimes, it had been the only place to grab a few hours of sleep while she flew off to yet another destination. Yet another country.

She pulled Paige down on the bed.

Immediately, they started tearing at each other.

Mayson had missed her so badly. Felt for sure she'd lost her again. That Paige hadn't wanted her. But the feel of that heated kiss told her she was wrong.

Paige ground against her while clothes were thrown in every direction. When Mayson was naked, Paige crawled over her, those eyes boring into her. "I want this bed burned after we land. I never want to know how many women have joined the mile-high club in the center of this thing."

Mayson chuckled and pumped upward. "You give me more credit than I'm worth. You will be my first, Paige. And my last." She kissed her, hard, savoring Paige's hums vibrating against her lips.

"Liar." Paige hissed against her mouth, her fingers probing between Mayson's legs. She teased her opening with the tip of her finger, then pushed inside her. "But as long as you promise to keep the fighting clean and the s.e.x dirty, I'm willing to overlook it."

Mayson arched and clutched at her, her heart full, her body full. She wanted this for the rest of her life. Paige. These emotions. This love.

G.o.d, this feeling, everything about them, was amazing. She never dreamed it could feel like this. She was swallowed whole by it. Devoured by its clutches.

Paige pushed in and out, her tongue invading and warm.

Mayson rode her, arching onto her fingers, until the o.r.g.a.s.m robbed her. She clamped her jaw and hissed through clenched teeth while her insides pulsed and spasmed.

Then she rolled Paige onto her back and kneed her legs apart. She didn't waste time driving inside her. She'd thought of nothing else for a d.a.m.n week. Her thoughts had been consumed with Paige, of this moment, of this exact scene.

Now Paige was beneath her, staring up at her with those pretty green eyes.

Paige jerked her fingers into Mayson's hair while she drove in again. And again. Until Paige lifted her head off the bed and bit down on Mayson's shoulder to m.u.f.fle her cries.

When she sagged, Mayson feathered kisses along her cheek and jaw. "You're beautiful, Paige. I've missed you."

Paige opened her eyes and smiled. "I missed you, too."

Mayson kissed the tip of her nose. "I felt it, Paige. The explosion."

Paige grinned and tears welled in her eyes. "I felt it, too. In New Orleans. At the theater. The lingerie shop." She pressed a kiss against Mayson's lips and whispered, "In your bed. It's been there all along. I was just too self-absorbed with the hunt to feel it."

Mayson cuddled into the crook of her neck. "I can't let you go again."

Paige welcomed the weight of Mayson and wrapped her arms around her head and back. She squeezed Mayson while her heart mended. She'd never known it was broken until now. "You better not. I'm in love, Mayson. With you."

Chapter Seventeen.

Mayson balanced herself on a scaffold under the tormenting Jamaican sun and pulled the trigger on the nail gun. The sounds of construction echoed around her. Other nail guns popped in the distance, hammers drove against wood, and voices bellowed for supplies over the racket. But the most beautiful sound of all, was Paige...laughing with the children.

Mentally summoned once again, as she was at least every five minutes, Mayson swung her gaze in Paige's direction. No one could look more gorgeous wearing dirty shorts, a sweat-soaked T-shirt, and a do-rag.

Without a doubt, she was the most breathtaking woman Mayson had ever known. And she was all Mayson's. From the second she opened those pretty eyes in the morning to the last breath of s.e.xual ecstasy she expelled every night before bed, she was all Mayson's.

If she didn't stop watching her, wanting her, thinking about her, she was going to nail herself to the frame of this house. Wouldn't her crew get a kick out of that?

Mayson was so in love it hurt sometimes. The thought of Paige gone, out of her life, made rage and agonizing pain bubble through her. It probably wasn't healthy to live every moment of her life aching for someone who was right before her, but Mayson was without willpower to stop the emotions. She didn't know how to. Was positive she never wanted to.

She now believed in love at first sight. Believed in stars aligning. And she believed in soul mates.

Paige, and the aching love Mayson had for her, was living proof that it existed.

They'd jumped hurdles to find each other. They'd waited for each other.

Now they'd found each other with a little help from something far greater than they would ever understand. There was no love story greater than this one.

Paige glanced up to catch Mayson watching her. She gave Mayson that s.e.xy smirk and tapped the silver watch Vinden had bought for her.

Yes, she knew it was time for their lunch break.

Not that she'd be eating.

Well, not food, anyway.

Mayson pulled the power from the nail gun, laid it down on the wooden planks, then climbed down the ladder. When she reached the bottom, Paige was waiting.

She pushed a teasing kiss against Mayson's lips, dropped the do-rag on the ground at Mayson's feet in invitation, and then walked toward their private trailer.

Mayson hastily unclipped her tool belt and dropped it on the ground next to the ladder, then followed that s.e.xy sashaying a.s.s.

G.o.d, would she ever get enough of her? Would her appet.i.te for Paige ever be fulfilled?

No. Never. For the rest of her life, she was going to crave Paige Burton.

Besides, Paige's followers were probably waiting with bated breath for her next blog on "Paradise in the Ruins."

Oh, the woes of being a s.e.xual blogger's guinea pig.

Not!.

About the Author.

Larkin (larkinrose.com) still lives in a "blink and you missed it" town in the beautiful state of South Carolina with her much-adored partner of eighteen years. Together, they have seven children, eight grandchildren (number nine on the way!), two ankle biters (one of which thinks she is queen of the household, the other who obeys her every command. Yes, we taught them well), one lucky cat (really lucky cat), and another furball they have to continuously scoop out of the old neighborhood. And a coven of wild birds who sit patiently in the trees for their feeders to be filled. Though not quietly.

Larkin has written six novels and several short stories, and has enough voices (or fantasies?) in her head to produce many, many more.

Happy reading!.