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I bit my lip painfully and tried to compose myself, letting go of the lever and hoping that it locked back into place.
The plane chose that moment to bump, causing several passengers to cry out in surprise.
Me? I cried out—but it had nothing to do with the turbulence, and everything to do with the goddamn suction that she just treated my dick to.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathed, trying not to reach for her hair.
Turbulence shook the plane again, and this time a whimper left my mouth, once again disguised in with the other passengers’ cries.
I took deep breaths, trying to will my come to stay where it was at for just a few moments longer. Then my willpower snapped.
Whoever was in the seat in front of us leaned their seat back, which pushed Henley forward. Straight onto my cock.
She took another inch that she likely would have never taken, and I saw stars.
I couldn’t even scrounge up enough willpower to care.
I couldn’t even muster an ‘are you okay?’ Not a pat on the forehead. Not anything.
Why?
Because I was coming.
I was coming hard, down her throat, and she was swallowing convulsively around me like she was devouring her last meal before she died.
Her throat muscles flexed and convulsed as she swallowed, and my belly started to clench and release right along with the pulse of my cock.
My release flew out of me like an explosion, and I had a second of thought that maybe I should’ve warned her before I’d come.
But, again, that thought was fleeting seeing as I couldn’t even tell myself to breathe.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, staring at the emergency lighting like it was something new and alien-like.
And just before I was reaching under the blanket to wrap my hand around her chin, the fasten seatbelt sign went off.
“All passengers and personnel free to move about the cabin,” the captain’s voice said over the speaker just as the lights turned on overhead.
Henley stood and dropped the blanket on my lap to cover my naked cock.
“I’m going to the restroom,” she whispered to me.
I fiddled with my pants and shoved my semi-hard cock back into my jeans, wondering if I’d ever be able to ride on an airplane again without thinking of this particular experience.
My guess? Probably fucking not.Chapter 21The older I get, the earlier it gets late.
-Henley to Alana
Henley
We arrived in the maternity ward just in time to hear a very loud, “Go fuck yourself!”
Rhys didn’t hesitate, just kept right on barreling along, passing doctors, nurses, and mothers-to-be as he made his way to where he knew his sister to be.
“No!” the woman cried again. “I will not have this baby until my brother is here!”
It was then that I knew the woman screaming was Renata.
But before he’d pushed through the door, he stopped and knocked loudly, calling out, “Rennie?”
“Rhys!” Renata cried out. “You, there, cover up my vagina so my brother can enter.”
I wouldn’t laugh. I. Wouldn’t. Laugh.
“I don’t care if the baby’s face is right there. It’s my understanding that they breathe through the umbilical cord until they’re out. And you better be careful about what you say. I can read lips, you fool,” Renata snarled.
I licked my lips and tried not to burst into a fit of giggles.
“Jesus, Rennie,” Rhys said as he pushed through the door, holding it open for me. “The least you could do is act civilized.”
That’s when a half cup of ice flew past Rhys’ face, barely missing his body by inches.
“I cannot believe you come in here, after not seeing me in half a year, and think that it’d be okay to lecture me on how to treat someone who thought it’d be okay to say ‘bitch’ underneath her breath!”
I turned the corner just in time to hear her continue. “Get away from my vagina. I don’t want you near it anymore. My luck, you’ll fuck it up.”
I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it.
That laugh was wiped off my face when the woman who’d been kicked out turned, and then muttered a nasty word underneath her breath. Not loud enough for anyone to hear, but damn near perfect in my line of sight.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” I stepped aside. “But she’s not an s-word. She’s Italian. There’s a difference between being of Mexican heritage and being of Italian heritage, in case you were wondering.”
The woman’s eyes turned up to meet mine.
“And yes, I can read lips, too.”
No one said a word as the woman continued to file out.
“So…” Renata said. “Who wants to go find me a new doctor?”
“That was your doctor?” I breathed, worried now.
“There’s a nurse practitioner out there. She’s delivered many babies before,” a nurse said at her side, looking as happy as could be.
Before either Renata or her husband, who was huddled in the corner looking white as a sheet, could answer, Renata went into another contraction.
