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His arms lock me in place. “Hold on,” he says, his voice a degree deeper. What the hell? Why is he still holding me? Does he like me on top of him like this?
“Rough air,” he explains.
Guess not.
The plane b
umps again, and for a split second I’m floating over him. But then I drop, press down on his hardness, and arousal slams into me as our bodies collide.
“We need to ride it out for a second longer,” he says.
Ride it out.
A strange, inappropriate giggle rises in my throat and a crinkle appears between his brows at my bizarre reaction. I swallow—hard—and pull myself together. Good Lord, this flu has me acting completely out of character.
Yeah, blame it on the flu, Khloe.
“How long do you think it will last?” I ask, and when a grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, my cheeks once again flare hot.
What is wrong with me? No matter what I say, it comes out sounding sexual. Why is that? Oh, probably because I’m flat out on top of the sexiest man alive, and even though I just finished losing my breakfast, everything about this guy reminds me I’m still a woman—one who hasn’t been touched in a long time.
“Shouldn’t be too much longer,” he says. “The pilots will adjust flying height to get us out of the wind shears.”
“I’m probably squishing you,” I say, and wiggle as I try to shift to the side of the table.
“Please stop moving.” His hands tighten around my body, and that innocent touch seeps beneath my skin and burns through my blood. “At least we managed to get you horizontal.”
“For your sake, you’d better hope I don’t get sick again.”
He laughs. An honest-to-God belly laugh. “You’ll give me a heads-up, right?”
“It’s possible. But the words might come out too late.” I emphasize the last word to let him know I’m still pissed off at his greeting. And seriously, James totally misled me with this assignment. I thought I’d be attending board meetings and taking notes, but no. I’ll be getting this man his brandy and whatever else his assistant does for him. Why would I need writing skills for that?
“Khloe,” he says, his voice a bit more serious.
I blink slowly, and when my lashes lift, I’m staring at blue eyes brimming with questions. “Yeah?”
“It’s not my business, but you’re different from the other girls who apply for temp work.”
“I was fired recently,” I say.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He goes quiet, his mouth tight.
“It wasn’t my fault.” I roll my eyes and can’t keep the disgust from my voice when I add, “Men in power, they’re all alike.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My boss wanted me to do something, and when I refused, he canned me.”
His expression turns angry. “Jesus, sorry.”
I know what he’s thinking. That my boss wanted sex, or something equally disturbing. The sudden visual of a naked Benjamin batters my uneasy stomach. I think of a naked Will instead, but that just batters another part of my body.
“Yeah, he was a real jerk, but I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to move forward, okay?”
“Just so you know, I would never put you in any position you didn’t want to be in.”
Even though he doesn’t strike me as a missionary sex kind of guy, I glance down at our vanilla position—the only one I’m familiar with, sadly—and take in the two hundred pounds of rock-solid muscles beneath me. Lord, he’s everything fantasies are made of, and a thousand new ones begin to run through my brain.
