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“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered as he leaned over. “Skylar, look at me.”
She shook her head, refusing to open them.
“Babe, please. Look at me.” He squeezed her hand, willing her to open her eyes.
Her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath, letting it out through her mouth. She did that a few more times before she cracked her eyes open and looked to the side at him.
“See, everything’s fine. It was just a little drop.”
“A little drop,” she huffed but opened her eyes fully. “It felt like more than a little drop.”
“Are you scared of flying?” he asked. She didn’t seem to be. He couldn’t recall anything that would have made him think that during the flight to Vegas.
“No, I’m not afraid of flying,” she spat. “I’m afraid of falling.”
“Well, I think you’re safe from that today,” he chuckled.
Just then, the pilot came over the speaker, “Sorry about that, folks. We hit a patch of turbulence, but it should be smooth sailing for the rest of the flight to Abbotsford.”
Skylar leaned back in her seat, rested her head against the back and closed her eyes.
Dyllan shifted as well, moving to take his hand back from her, but she held on tight.
“Nope, you’re not going anywhere,” she said, eyes still closed.
Flashbacks coursed through his brain at her words. Flashes of laughing as they picked out rings in the hotel shops, stumbling as they made their way from the chapel.
“What are you going to do now?” Skylar asked, giggling as she held on to his arm.
“What do you think? I’m going to do what all husbands get to do on their wedding night,” Dyllan smirked as he tried to hold them both up.
“Is that so, and what would that be, husband?”
“I think you know, wife.” He didn’t hide the lust laced in his words or the way his body reacted to her. He wanted her to know exactly what she did to him.
“And if I want to go back to the bar?” she asked with a coy smile.
Dyllan grabbed her tight, pulling her flush up against his body. “You’re not going anywhere, wife.”
“Dyllan?” her sweet voice brought his thoughts back to the present.
“Sorry, what was that?” He shook his head.
“Drink?” She looked at him questioningly as the flight attendant waited on him for his answer.
“Oh, uh, beer, please.” If he was going to make it the rest of the flight, he was going to need something stronger than pop.
Placing his sweater over his lap, he lowered the table in front of him. Skylar removed her hand from his as he accepted his drink, placing it on his thigh as she waited for her wine. The heat from her palm seared his skin through his denim.
“Thank you,” she said to the flight attendant as she took a sip, watching as the cart moved to the row behind them. She leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes, humming in contentment.
He watched as her face relaxed. She looked so peaceful, angelic. His heart rate picked up as his gaze trailed down her neck, focusing on the soft rise and fall of her chest. She wore a royal blue sweater that cut low enough for him to see the top of her glorious breasts.
He nearly jumped out of his seat when her fingers flitted across this leg, coming dangerously close to his semi-hard cock. It jumped, too, seeking her attention, drawing closer to her.
Down, boy.
Sneaking a glance past Skylar to his friends across the aisle, everyone seemed to either be sleeping or engrossed in a book or movie. Thankful no one was there to witness them; he stilled as her hand got more adventurous, slipping underneath this sweater, hidden by the table in front of him.
