“And what?”
“I hate you.” I refuse to let him see me cry. “I fucking hate you, and I regret having sex with you.”
“Those feelings are mutual.” He looks me up and down. “I should’ve never let you back into my car that night.”
“Glad we’re on the same page, then.”
“We are.”
“Then leave.”
“I will,” he says, stepping closer. “Right away.”
“The door is behind you.”
“I know that.”
“Obviously not since you’re not moving that way,” I say. “Do you need directions?”
“You’re the last person who should ever ask that.” He presses his forehead against mine.
“Get out, Jameson.” I demand. “I don’t want to spend another second around someone I hate.”
“You’re not going to.” He presses his lips against mine, and I suck in a breath as he kisses me long and hard.
I try to resist, to push him the hell away, but my body begs me to give in.
He gently pushes me backward until my back hits the side of the plane, and I shut my eyes as he deepens our kiss.
“No, I don’t think so.” He bites down on my bottom lip. “Look into my eyes while I fuck all this hate out of you.”
Defiant, I keep them closed, and he bites down harder on my mouth until I obey his demand.
I can feel his cock hardening through his pants, and I rub my hands against it.
He pulls a condom from his pocket and sets it on the wing. Then he pulls his cock out from his briefs, daring me to look away from him and down at what’s waiting for me.
“Spit on my dick.” His gaze is heated, impossible for me to ignore.
I bend down and spit on it, but then I take him deep into my throat without permission.
He grabs a fistful of my hair as I twirl my tongue around his tip, as I take a mouthful of what I’ve missed.
“Fuck…” He groans and gently pushes my head away. “Push up that goddamn dress.”
I do as I’m told, folding the fabric up to my stomach.
Rolling the condom on, he lifts up my left leg and slides into me all at once, filling me with bliss.
I wrap my arms around his neck, and he glares at me with every stroke.
“Fuck you,” I breathe. “Fuck. You.”
“You don’t mean that.” He squeezes my ass with his other hand, punishing me with an even harder rhythm. “Say you don’t fucking mean that.”
“Yes…”
“Yes?” He smirks, pushing me further to the edge.
