Page 58 of Sour Notes

She smirks up at me, and pats my chest, her stunning eyes dancing with amusement. I take the chance to slide a hand into her soft dark waves and use my thumb to tilt her chin up, closing the gap between us.

“What did I tell you about calling me puppy, you minx? Keep it up and I’ll show you exactly why they call me the wolf.” My voice dips, rough and low, watching her teeth sink into that sexy lip before her mouth curves into a smile again.

“You’re so big and bad, Wolfie.” Her eyes meet mine, still dancing with mischief.

“And territorial,” I grind out, tightening my hold in her hair. Tugging her head back a little further, I can’t help but sink my own teeth into her plump bottom lip before giving in and chasing the taste of her.

Everything falls away the second our lips clash, tongues battling for control. I yank her tight against me, my fingers sinking into the delicious curve of her ass.

Her hands splay on my chest, clutching my pecs as she pushes closer, a cute little sound escaping her.

Groaning in response, I lift her off the floor, every gorgeous inch of her pressing against me, while she devours me.

She tugs on my hair, and I growl against her lips, the need to grind my rapidly hardening cock into her growing by the second.

I don’t give a flying fuck about TSA Pingu, our bags, or even our families right now. I want to sink so deep into her, I never come up for air.

Her drugging kisses have me addicted, and I already know I’m gonna spend my life chasing her high.

“Uhh, Miiiiia?” Mia’s mom calls out.

No. Not fucking now.

“Mia!” Maria’s voice sounds sharper now, breaking us apart. Our eyes stay locked as I slowly slide her back down my body, until her feet touch the ground.

“You’re great at this fake boyfriend shit, Swayze,” she whispers, gripping my shirt tight, her violet eyes a little dazed.

Fake.

One stupid little word.

Four letters that ruin everything.

Breaking eye contact, she shakes her head before looking over at her mom.

“Fuck,” Mia huffs out a breath before shoving off me and hurrying toward the end of the TSA bag check row.

Oh hell, what now?

I glance over at our moms and almost choke on my tongue. Standing in airport security watching a TSA officer wave around what I’m assuming is Mia’s purple eight-inch vibrating—yes you heard me, vibrating—dildo wasn’t on my bingo card for today.

Mia’s cheeks, still flushed from our kiss, are now the exact shade of a tomato while Maria starts educating the TSA agent on the virtues of sexual exploration.

“Surely you’ve seen people traveling with personal massagers before. My daughter has a very stressful job, we’re traveling for her twin’s wedding, and she’ll be seeing her vile cretin of an ex too. Believe me, she’ll need to relieve some stress.”

Jesus fuck.

I walk over to the group gathered at the end of the aisle, slipping my hand around Mia’s waist.

“Kill me now,” she groans, burying her face in my chest.

Ignoring the warmth that spreads through me at her move, I survey the situation in front of me.

Why the fuck does she have a vibrator in her carry-on anyway?

And maybe more to the point, how the hell's it turned on? I thought it was just me in that current predicament.

“Look, here’s her boyfriend. He’s law enforcement, you know? And I’m sure her taking a massager has nothing to do with his… performance. Just look at him.” She waves her hands in my direction like she’s moonlighting on the home shopping channel and flashes me a smile. “Wolfie, my boy, can you tell this nice gentleman to give Mia back her toy so we can go get dinner? We’re starving.”