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“Wouldn’t be as much fun that way.”
“They’ll throw us off the plane!”
I raise a skeptical brow. “We’re over the Pacific Ocean right now. And why would they want to throw us off the plane?”
“Because they don’t want to see my ass over your lap!”
“You don’t know that. They might like the view.”
Her cheeks go back to red. “They’ll have us arrested for indecent exposure when we land at SFO.”
“Not likely. And even if they did, we’d be let off with a warning.”
She crosses her arms in front of her. “So this has happened to you before.”
“Get over here.”
“I didn’t agree to this!”
“You didn’t object when I laid out the consequences. In fact, you said, ‘Okay, okay. What’s the big deal?’”
She pauses because what I said must sound familiar. “I did?”
“You did.”
“I thought you were joking.”
“Well, I wasn’t.”
She purses her lips. “Who says you get to make the rules, anyway?”
“I do.”
She rolls her eyes. “You realize that makes you a despot?”
“Do I care?”
She has a what-have-I-gotten-myself-into look in her eyes.
I cup her chin and bring her face within inches of mine. “I suggest you do what I tell you before I decide to do more than give you a spanking.”
She frowns, then tries a different tactic. “We could do more than a spanking in the privacy of the bedroom.”
“I like the thought, but I already have plans for our room.” I release her and pat my lap. “Come on, now.”
“No,” she resists. “Decent people don’t—”
I pull her over my lap.
“Oh, sh—!” she cries out, then covers her own mouth.
I smack her rump through her dress. She strains against me, but I have one hand holding her down by the neck.
“Darren, please,” Bridget says.
I slip a hand beneath her dress to caress her ass and growl, “I’m thinking we initiate you a second time into the Mile High Club.”
“Seriously, let me up!”
