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Roselle felt his dick stir, but then he caught Brenda’s glare and it went limp again. “Nah. Not right now.”
“Okay then,” she said with a wink.
Brenda tilted her head and raised a questioning brow. Oh, so this bitch was on a first-name basis with her husband. When did that happen?
Most likely, she guessed, when she’d dozed off about two hours into their flight.
Still . . .
I know this messy bitch is not trying to flirt with my man knowing I’m standing right here.
LaLani turned to Brenda. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. You can’t,” Brenda said nastily. “But you can make a note that Roselle over there is a very married man. Please and thank you.”
LaLani smiled. “That fact is duly-noted.” She matched Brenda’s stare. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”
Brenda gave a fake smile. “No, sweetie. Not at the moment.”
“Very well.”
As LaLani moved back toward the galley, Brenda sneered at her, and Roselle shook his head, but said nothing.
“Baby, huh? So that’s how we’re doing it, Roselle. Huh? Baby? Since when?”
“It’s a figure of speech. Damn. It meant nothing,” Roselle said nonchalantly. “Why you always tripping, Bren? All she was doing is her job.”
Brenda rolled her eyes. “And I doubt anywhere in her job description does it say for her to fall into your lap and suck your damn dick.”
Roselle laughed. But the imagery made him shudder inwardly. He’d love nothing more than to see her fine-ass on her knees, her mouth wet and open, and his dick pressed to the back of her throat. He’d fuck her mouth dry. Knock her tonsils loose. Skull-fuck the shit out of her.
He looked at his wife. “Stop being so melodramatic, Bren. You’re always looking for shit to fight about.” He shook his ahead again. “But you know I love your crazy ass, right?”
She sucked her teeth. “Maybe.” She stepped out into the aisle. “I’m going to walk around. See what’s going on. Don’t have me come back and find you grinning in that ho’s face again.”
“Yeah, a’ight,” he said over a chuckle. And then he reached out and grabbed her by the forearm, pulling her to him. “C’mere.”
He pulled her closer.
“What?”
He gestured for her to lean in.
She huffed, bending at the waist. “What is it, Roselle?”
“This Hendrick’s got me feeling some type of way.”
Brenda raised a brow. “So.”
“You know what it is, baby.”
She frowned. “And?”
He reached around and cupped her ass. “You wanna earn your points into the mile-high club tonight?”
She saw heat flash through his eyes, and she knew that look very well. She slid her hand over his crotch, and smirked. As she’d thought, he was aroused. She squeezed the bulge under the button fly and teasingly licked her lips and squeezed his dick over his Robin’s jeans. Then she leaned in a little closer and kissed him softly on the lips. Mm, yes. Fucking in the friendly skies would be a delicious thrill. She’d love nothing more than to get fucked in the cockpit. Getting fucked on a plane had always been one of the things she wanted to cross off her sex bucket list.
She and Roselle had experienced a little hand play under a blanket in their seats on a flight to Jamaica once. And another time, she’d given him some wet sloppy head, while the other passengers slept on their flight to Hong Kong last summer. But fucking on this aircraft would take their sex life to another height. And yet she pushed out, “No,” before slapping Roselle’s hand off her ass and then mushing him in the head. She walked off, leaving him sitting in his chair, sipping the rest of his drink and stroking a hand over his jeans.
