I kept thrusting her until she couldn't stay on her feet. “Theo, fuck, I’m about to—,” I stepped back, and she gasped, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Sit down, open your legs, and touch yourself. I want to see how you make yourself come.”
I sat down on the chair in front of her, stroking myself as she sat down and opened her legs. She slid one finger in and started pinching her nipple with the other hand.
To see her like this, so effortlessly sexy, so wet forme, it almost made me finish before her, but I took a deep breath and kept watching her. Now she’s panting, and all I can hear is her wetness and her moans.
I stop touching myself as I kneel in front of her, “Don’t stop touching yourself, Samantha.” She nods, biting her bottom lip. I spread her legs open even further and put my mouth on her. She gasped and moaned my name. I licked all the wetness of her, while she kept touching herself, but when I made eye contact, I saw how close she was. I slid a finger in, and she gasped and clenched around our fingers. I sucked her clit and bit her hard enough to make her lose it all.
This time, she didn’t just moan. She screamed my name. And now, all Paris knew that Theodore Jones,—because she used my whole government name—made her come on that balcony.
“We’re not getting any sleep tonight.”
She just looked at me with a smile and said, “I wasn't planning on having a sleepover on my engagement night.”
The morning came, and I don’t recall how many hours of sleep we truly got, if any.
While packing the rest of our stuff, I can see her looking at me with that ‘I have an idea’ kind of look.The one that always meant trouble, the kind I couldn’t wait to get into. She turned toward me, eyes dancing. “So, I have a fantasy.” I raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“To do it on a plane,” she said, like she was ordering a croissant, casual and composed, while my blood pressure spiked. “A former flight attendant wants to join the mile-high club, huh?”
She shrugged, biting her lip. “I might know someone on our flight’s crew who owes me a couple of favors, and knows how to turn a blind eye.” I let that sit for a second, trying not to choke on my champagne. “Oh, so you’re serious?”
“I’m very serious.” I just laughed at her and finished packing.
We made our way to the airport with enough time to stop at the lounge and had a couple of drinks before boarding.
Once on the plane, we get to our seats, and I see her talking to a flight attendant. Sam looks at me and winks. This means she was actually serious about having sex on a plane.
We had an easy take off, we’re sipping champagne, and that’s when she whispered, “Okay, so in three minutes, you’ll walk towards the backlavatory. Try not to look too smug.” She stood up, hips swaying with the kind of confidence that made my sanity slip through my fingers. Her dress clung in all the right places.
I counted to sixty.Twice. Then stood, as calm as a man with a countdown to heaven could be, and walked towards the back of the cabin.
Two knocks. The door cracked open, and she pulled me inside with one hand and zero hesitation.
It was cramped, hot, and completely inappropriate, but it was her fantasy, and who am I to say no to her when I just asked her to marry me? “Finish what you started this morning.” Oh, I did. I slid my hands under her dress, took off her panties, and grabbed her. Put her on the world’s tiniest sink and undid my pants.
She was flushed and gasping already. I teased her and slid into her slowly. She was biting her lip so she wouldn’t make a sound, her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer to her. It was fast, frantic, and so worth the risk. When I leaned my forehead against hers afterward, both of us catching our breath, she giggled and whispered, “Oops, turbulence.”
I laughed, kissing her hard once more before tucking her hair behind her ear. “Fantasy checked,” she said under her breath.
“I hope it’s not the last one I get to fulfill,” I whispered back.
God help me, I was going to marry this woman.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
sam
Two weeks later.
It’s been two weeks after Paris, and the ring still feels weightless on my finger, like I was floating with it, not weighed down by it. Which is saying a lot, considering it was about the size of a small planet and had its own gravitational pull in my hand.
We haven’t told anyone, not even Rose, who’s going to kill me for sure. But I asked Theo to give me some time to really feel all the feels, if that makes sense. It’s not because I want to keep this as a secret, God no.
I wanted to scream to the world that I’m engaged to the most wonderful man on earth. But I know that the second we say it out loud, it will become something else, people will have opinions, and right now? Right now, I just want to be happy.
I know this was fast. I know the math didn’t make sense on paper, ‘met in January, engaged by spring’ kind of fast, not literary, but a very close almost. The thing about Theo and me is… nothing about us ever made sense, and it doesn’t have to.
