The Art Of Revenge (Thalia Nash and Brandon) novel Chapter 23

The Art Of Revenge

Josh’s Pov

Finally, we were free to go on our honeymoon; unlike other couples, we did not go on the same day as our wedding. I had a lot of loose ends to tie up in my firm and a lot of stuff to straighten out.

Jessica was very pi**ed at me but I was going to make it up to her. Mom was moved into a lovely private home for dementia patients. I hired the best team of nurses and doctors in the world to care for her. I gave them precise instructions to keep me informed if anything changed or if there were any issues.

My father and his girlfriends vanished on the day of the wedding. He couldn’t even wait for the wedding to end before congratulating us and leaving.

But I’d become accustomed to his irresponsibility and was the one who was usually cleaning up after him. In celebration of Gentex’s takeover, he claimed he needed to party his life away.

He was somehow taking full credit for it, even though it was his plan and I was only carrying it out. But thanks to him, my future generation was set up for a good life. Maybe I didn’t have a right to be upset with him.

He’d spent years plotting and grooming me in order to nail it. Perhaps he needed a break and some quality time with some sl**ts. He was getting old and tired, soon he was going to go back to caring for his wife at the end of the day.

I sighed as I finished packing, Jessica strolled in, beaming. “Please, babe, hurry up,” she urged as she kissed my cheeks. She was ecstatic to be going to Canada; she had always loved the snow and wanted us to spend our time there at an upscale ski resort.

Skiing or snow was not my thing; I enjoyed the water and would have preferred Hawaii, but I had to compromise for my wife; a happy wife equals a happy husband.

“Are you done packing Mrs. Nelson?” I asked as I drew her closer to me.

“Yes, Mr. Nelson, you are the one packing like a little girl,” she said in my ear. I grabbed one of my t-shirts and started paddling her bottom as she raced around.

“You’re the little girl, around here” I continued to yell.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nelson,” she began, the words coming out of my mouth being so comforting. As she let out a high-pitched screech that pierced my ears, I seized her and pinned her to the bed. I traced kisses all over her neck. “Stop, stop, we’re running out of time, Josh,” she said.

“Just one round, Mrs. Nelson,” I implored.

“Josh, we can do that on the jet,” she replied with a grin on her face. “Have you ever tried it at a high altitude?” she inquired, her voice sultry. I came to a halt and gazed down at her; she was dead serious.

I’d never had an org**sm at such a high altitude before. I leaped to my feet and resumed my packing, causing her to burst out laughing. I was done in minutes and immediately sweating from the possibility of having sex in the air.

I was so excited, we really needed the break too. I summoned the maid, who carried our baggage to the car while we held hands. We couldn’t take our hands off of each other or have enough of ourselves.

We were passionately kissing each other as soon as we got inside the car. After getting impatient of waiting for a green light, the driver had no choice but to begin driving. It wasn’t as if he had no idea where we were headed.

We kissed and caressed each other all the way to the airport, where my private jet was waiting and all fueled up. To get us off of each other, the driver had to tap the window four times.

We couldn’t stop staring at each other or keeping our hands to ourselves. It was clear that we were meant to be together. Her wildness always met my arrogance on the halfway mark. A match made in heaven.

The driver had already put our baggage on board as we headed to the jet. My boy was already hard, Jessica had to place herself in front of me to cover my b*ner. It was a long humiliating mini-walk to the jet, the short distance between the car and the Jet felt like a hundred-meter sprint.

The two pilots gave us strange looks, but we ignored them as I chased behind Jessica, who had decided to embarrass me by sprinting inside the plane and displaying my hardened junk. She was going to put in a lot of effort. I was thinking to myself as I chased her down like a duck.

I was very much aware that she was aching and drenched, which explained why she was fleeing; she couldn’t hold on any longer, and I was going to punish her.

I quickly boarded and followed her to the back of the plane, where no one could hear us. She was thinking the same thoughts that I was. Even though it had only been minutes since I last touched her, I was already yearning for her.

I caught up with her and threw her on the couch, but she pushed me away; she enjoyed playing hard to get. I felt like I couldn’t get near her fast enough, then I grabbed her and she strained against my body.

As I drove her up against the back of the jet, my shirt was already drenched from my sweat. She shoved her petite body against my large chest, the muscles solid beneath my shirt as I pressed hard against her.

The warmth of her fingertips on my exposed skin sent another burst of energy directly to my already hardened boy, making me ache with a tiny moan.

As I began stripping her bare, I had to feel her warm skin beneath my fingertips, stride by stride. We stumbled when the jet moved, but that didn’t bother us or cause us to stop because the movement only added to the thrill.

We both lived for the danger and excitement. For a long time, I’d yearned for such an experience. I drew her t-shirt up just enough for my hands to get underneath it, tugging her breasts.

I encircled her waist with my hands, her skin soft and silky to the touch, as I searched for the curvature of her waist and the firmness of her breast which were hard from my touch.

As her mouth slid behind my ear, she took a harmless bite and I let out a groan, she slowly began sucking my ear lobe, I tightened my grip and drew her closer. It was a tasty form of torture. As her touch warmed my flesh, I groaned.

She couldn’t wait any longer, so she yanked down my jeans and filled herself around my hardened length. The Jet slowed to match our pace as we were about c*m. The soaring jet pushed us back, nearly slamming me, but I didn’t feel it because a surge of pleasure was still coursing through my veins.

I clutched her in my arms, shielding her from any slams. We burst out laughing when the captain ordered us to belt up in our seats over the intercom.

It was as if we were rich, spoiled teens who had just fallen in love and stolen our parents’ aircraft, fleeing to an island to begin a life of defiance.