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It was stunning, and the moment I’d seen it, I’d known that Nat had to have it. I didn’t know why; I’d simply known that that was the ring she would wear in Italy.
“Is something wrong?” I asked when she sat there staring at the ring, saying nothing.
“No, no,” she said. “It’s just…”
“What?” I asked, picking up her tiny hand in mine and pulling the ring out of the box.
“It’s the ring I would’ve picked for myself if I had the choice, and that—it just took me by surprise, that’s all,” she said, putting her hand up to her throat.
“Oh,” I said, blinking a little bit as I reached for her hand. “Well, it’s yours, even after this event is over. It seems I already know you more than I should,” I finished with a wink.
She stared up at me for a moment, and I held a flirty expression while I knew both of us were trying to ignore what emotions were trying to take over. Emotions that we were both foreign to. Emotions that could get in the way and fuck this entire show up if we weren’t careful.
Chapter Ten
NAT
This fake engagement ring was one of the most stunning things I’d ever seen, and far from being fake in everything but the department of why I had it on my ring finger in the first place.
After Spencer slid it on, I couldn’t help but feel something, even if it was superficial. I honestly didn’t care about these sudden sentimental feels that’d slapped me in the face; I was rolling with it and enjoying it for the moment.
Who knew? It was probably the damn ring, combined with the luxurious nature of flying in Jim Mitchell’s private jet, that had me acting like this, but again, I wasn’t pushing these feelings away.
I stood up ever so slowly and walked back around the table, standing in front of Spencer so that we were practically nose to nose. In my tall Gucci boots, I was just a few inches shorter than him, and if I tilted my head up, I could brush my teeth against the ridge of his jaw by barely trying. I didn’t know why I expected to be able to do any work on this flight; after all, I’d known ahead of time that I’d be alone in a confined space with Spencer for the first time since our weekend-long fuck fest.
“Before we go any further,” I said without removing my mouth from his jaw, “I’d just like to know one thing.”
“What’s that?” His voice was hoarse, and I looked down at his hands. I couldn’t help my smirk when I saw that they were clenched into fists, his nails pressed so tightly into his palms that they could very well be cutting into the skin.
“Which of the surfaces of this plane would you like to take your fake wife on first?”
His eyes popped open, and he grinned widely. He leaned forward and pressed me into the edge of the table so hard that it pushed achingly into my thighs.
He chuckled throatily before reaching out and running his thumb over my collarbone. I shuddered as the goosebumps erupted all over my skin in a single, rippling wave as though I were getting a preview of the pleasure to follow.
“I mean,” he said, reaching up to slip his fingers under the hem of my sweater, “I will gladly take your sexy ass anywhere on this jet, but—”
“No,” I said, reaching to hook my fingers through his belt loops, pulling him forward and pressing him against me, indulging in the hardness I felt straining against his pants. “No buts. Where are you going to fuck me, Spence?”
“Well, this is Jim’s personal jet,” he said through his teeth, and I couldn’t help but grin as I heard the strain in his voice as I moved my hands over the muscles in his jaw that were so tense, I thought they were in danger of snapping. “I don’t—well, I’m not…”
“You’re the one who opened this whole thing by asking me if I wanted to join the mile-high club,” I said, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. “Isn’t that one of the main draws of having a private plane? Being able to fuck without fear of the FAA?”
“It’s a bonus,” he said, shutting his eyes, “to Jim, I’d imagine. But—”
“In this entire time I’ve known you,” I said, flipping us around so that his ass was the one pressed up against the table and smiling when his eyes popped open in surprise at the maneuver, “I’ve never imagined you were afraid of Jim.”
“I never said I was afraid of that man,” he groaned as I slid my hand under his waistband. “Though, he did mention to keep the fucking on the plane to one confined space.”
“Well,” I said, backing away while keeping my fingers wrapped around the cock that had begun to throb and pulse, letting my hand move leisurely up and down his length, “you can just tell Jim that while he may have some say over where you have sex, he has no say over where I have sex.”
He narrowed his eyes and grinned before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine hard. I lost my breath in the kiss, reaching up to cup my hand under the base of his skull and drinking in his intoxicating taste. I let him bend me back, swallowing down the different flavors of him before finally pushing him back onto the table.
This was my opportunity to take control after all the moments he’d observed, felt, touched, and tasted me during that weekend.
I used my unoccupied hand to undo his belt buckle and hastily pull his boxers down, allowing his erection to spring free of the silky, navy-blue briefs underneath his expensive suit trousers.
My ridiculous brain very briefly thought, Damn, I appreciate a man who values good underwear as much as I do before I was distracted by Spencer’s velvety-soft lips against my neck. I shut my eyes at the sudden influx of dampness that flooded through me at the feeling of his mouth on me, almost making me forget about the initial plan I had for him and his pleasure.
