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“Guess I should add human pillow to my resume,” I joke.
The weight against my shoulder increases before Dom lifts his head. “I’d hire you.”
A small chuckle builds in my throat, but it gets caught when Dom moves his fingers a half inch higher before sliding his hand back toward himself, dragging a line of heat across the top of my knee.
Thank you, earlier self, for deciding to shave your legs this morning. Also, extra thank you for using that awesome anti-rub cream on your inner thighs today rather than the usual hideous bike shorts.
Not that Dom is going to see my underwear, but at least I don’t have to worry about unattractive shorts peeking out from under my dress.
I swallow and force my eyes up. “Guess you were tired.”
“Guess so.” He drags a hand down his face before narrowing one eye at me. “Or maybe you drugged me.”
I snort. “You’ve found me out. I’m not really a web designer. I’m actually a drug lord.”
He huffs out a laugh, one side of his mouth pulling up. “Drug lord? Do they still call them that?”
My lips part, then I shrug. “I didn’t say I was good at it.”
The other side of his mouth lifts until he’s smiling at me. “I like you, Valentine Gandy.”
I dip my chin, putting my nose against the collar of the jacket in my lap.
That hand moves back across the armrest until his palm is on my knee again. “Don’t leave me hanging, Shorty.”
I tip my head to the side so he can see my exasperated expression. “I guess I like you, too, Big Guy.”
“That’s more like it.” Dom rolls his neck one way, then the next. “How much longer in this sardine can?”
“I’m not sure, but…” I wince in apology. “Can you let me out? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I think I can manage that,” Dom says as he unbuckles his seat belt.
I brace myself for the chill before pulling the borrowed jacket away from my body and following him out of the row.
Dom moves back just enough for me to get past him. And call me a coward, but I keep my gaze averted as I slip past.
Thankfully the little restroom is empty, since I forgot to check that little light above the door to see if it was occupied. And while I do my business, I, of course, think of Dom. And I think of all the movies and books that talk about the mile-high club. And as I struggle to bend down far enough to reach my undies to pull them back up, I wonder how in the hell anyone actually has sex in one of these tiny bathrooms.
Maybe they used to be larger? Or maybe it’s just fiction at its best.
I shake off the image of trying to fit in here with another body and busy myself washing my hands, taking my time as the cold water helps cool my heated blood.
I use two paper towels to dry my hands, then unlock and open the accordion door.
And, just like that, my blood is right back to simmering, because standing in front of me is Dominic. He’s still not wearing his jacket. And now…
Heavenly Harrison.
Now he’s rolled up his sleeves, and he’s undone his top two buttons.
My tongue wets my bottom lip.
This is too much.
“You comin’ out?” he asks me with a smirk in his tone.
My eyes stay on the exposed part of his chest, on the new set of tattoos he’s made visible.
