The Gideon Affair

She’d reached out to Phaedra Bellamy. The poor girl was being dragged through some icky stuff, and she wanted to help. Mickey proved what a stellar human being he was when he volunteered to get Moira on her side. Alan Sperry’s trafficking charges exposed a scary, dark world where young girls, and guys too, were traded as commodities and forced into high-end sexual slavery in the world of mansions, private jets, and yachts in the Mediterranean.

Paige hadn’t realized that Phae was only nineteen, about to turn twenty. She handled herself so well that her age wasn’t important. But the press liked to spin and spin and spin when it came to salacious gossip, turning Phae into the presumed target of the traffickers. That wasn’t exactly true. Alan had wanted her for himself, as a toy he could share with his butt buddies, Markus and Joa

But they were leaving in a few days for Denver and from there, their schedule was wide open. A weather snafu in Montana had moved the start of filming to the begi

Nothing too big or flashy—after all, part of the fun was doing the whole RV camping thing. They didn’t want their ride to scream CELEBRITY, so they eventually settled on a motorcoach that wasn’t big and ostentatious but also wasn’t tiny and cramped. And best of all? It was a Thor motorhome, which started a thousand jokes, one-liners about Thor’s mighty hammer, and Asgard with loads of emphasis on the ‘ass.’ She could not wait.

Booking a private jet to take them from Los Angeles to Denver was probably overkill—it wasn’t that long a trip—but the expense had been worth the experience. Especially with his cool-as-a-Popsicle assistant and fiancée pretending to be his personal flight attendant. After takeoff, when they were able to move around, she’d served him lunch complete with a linen napkin meticulously placed on his groin, adjusting it several times, in fact, until it was just right. She even flashed him—wearing white lace boy-short panties—and calmly inquired if he’d be requiring access to the cockpit during their flight.

He’d very nearly choked on his sandwich.

A huge weight lifted once they left L.A. behind. He was sick of the constant paparazzi presence wherever they went. Paige was handling it better than he was, having acquired this Zen-like attitude and an empty smile that the gossip sites found boring after a while. She never reacted to any of the trash talk the photogs used to force a camera-worthy reaction out of them.

Only once, when that shithead blogger who tried to one-up him had gone digging in her past, had she reacted at all. Getting her contact info had been easy. The studio gave it out all too freely, and from there, Dave what’s-his-name had a field day. Since there wasn’t anything lurking in Paige’s personal story that smelled like a scandal, he wrote a callow piece that disregarded her Cornell degree and focused instead on her high school cheerleading career. Publishing her yearbook picture and another one of her in full seventeen-year-old cheerleading glory had set her off. Big time.

He had done the sensitive guy thing and let her vent, then roasted her nonstop with every cheerleader joke and meme he could find. He smiled remembering how he’d teased her endlessly until she gave up, threw in the towel, and went through a private and very memorable performance of a dozen different cheers. He had no idea she’d been a rah-rah girl.

Though the chartered Gulfstream was comfortable, there wasn’t a guarantee of privacy or enough room for them to make love in the air. So they settled on the sofa with Paige quite boldly straddling his lap while they played Kill, Fuck, Marry and laughed their asses off.

“Have fun with this one. Thor, Captain America, and Tony Stark.”

“Seriously?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Patsy and I did this one a couple of times, so the answer is easy.”

“That’s what they all say.” He pinched her butt and gri

“Okay, smartass. Here goes. Tony Stark gets killed ‘cause if anyone could figure out how to come back from the dead, it’s him. Then Thor, of course, gets the fucking. A chance to try out the hammer of the gods? Pfft. Where’s the choice, hmm? Which leaves Captain America suited up at the altar because, of the three, he’s the best husband material.”

Not bad. Not bad at all. “Bravo, Miss Turner. Well done. Now me. Give it your best shot.”

She peered at him and chuckled. “Princess Leia, Hermione Granger, and … Black Widow.”

“You’re a cruel, heartless bitch.” He had a thing for all three. Served him right for telling her that.

She rocked and rolled on his lap with a wicked giggle, reaching between them to stroke his cock through his pants. “So you’ve said. Now quit stalling and kill someone.”

“Damn. All right. Um, Black Widow has to die, I’m afraid. She’d kick my ass without breaking a sweat and my ego can’t have that.”

Paige laughed with real glee. “Continue.”

“I think I’d have to fuck Leia because she’d have some otherworldly shit going on and could probably teach me a few Tatooine sex moves.”

“I like the way you think, Mr. Ba

“Which leaves me Hermione to marry. For the same reason Captain America got the nod, she’d be the most loyal and would be a great mother. And that brain of hers? Shit, babe. All the smarty stuff turns me on.”

“Oh, great. So the most talented witch of her age is my rival? She could leviosa me without blinking an eye. How the hell can I compete with that?”

He knew one way. “Take your panties off, sweetheart. You won’t need them.”

Her face turned in the direction of the closed cockpit. “Really?”

“We’re forty minutes into a two-hour flight. I think we’re good.”

Like the queen of all she surveyed, his fiancée floated off his lap with fluid, ladylike grace and presented before him.

“As you wish, sir,” she snorted playfully. “Full cabin service is part of the charter experience.”

Twirling his finger in the air, Edward looked her up and down as if she was marked for sale and drawled, “You know the drill. Turn around.”

Paige laughed gleefully. “My ass is not on the menu, Mr. Ba

“I know. We’re saving that for our Ass-Gardian adventure.”

Her eyes flared, but she didn’t react to the taunt in any other way. Slowly turning, she glanced over her shoulder for good measure. “Just checking to make sure I have your full attention.”

He grabbed his dick and rubbed suggestively, making the bulge tenting his slacks more prominent. “Oh, Miss Turner, rest assured, you have my full, hard attention.”

Watching her peel the white lace off her ass and down her thighs, after a quick shimmy to dislodge them from between her legs, made his mouth go dry. Jesus god. Her ass was spectacular and those legs … they did him in every time. Keeping them straight, she bent over completely and made a show of stepping out of the flimsy underwear.

Before she straightened, Edward sat forward; flipping the skirt she wore up till her bare bottom was revealed, he stroked the soft skin of her haunches. Bent over as she was, legs slightly spread as she gripped her ankles and barely kept from wiggling her ass, he had the most fantastic view of her pussy.

“Face me,” he growled. Her expression when she turned around almost made his cock split the fabric of his pants to get to her. “Come closer.”

He watched her face as he put his hands on the insides of her legs and raised them till they disappeared beneath her skirt. She was breathing erratically, her pupils dilating, and if he was right, she was already dripping for him.