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I follow him toward the first class sleeper pods. The cabin has individual fifteen-inch flatscreens, glasses of champagne, and plush blankets draped over each seatwithoutthe crinkly plastic wrapping.
“Why are we dropping our bags off in here?”
“Because we’re sitting in those seats right over there,princesa.” He gestures to two of the sleeper pods next to each other.
“Forget what I said about paying you back.”
“Don’t worry about it. I got all those credit card points. Remember?” Nico shoves the carry-ons into the overhead compartment, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal tanned abs. My pulse thrums in my fucking ovaries.
“Is this really happening?”
Nico sits in one of the cushioned chairs and rolls down the divider between his seat and mine. “It’s not going to start happening if you keep standing there. Sit down.”
I pluck the complimentary pouch of goodies and the cashmere blanket from my seat before sliding my butt onto the leather.
“Why didn’t we fly like this to Brazil?” I slather the free La Mer balm all over my lips.
“Because there wasn’t an extra first class ticket on that flight. I had to trade my seat for the only available economy seats on board.” Nico shrugs.
I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by his generosity and thoughtfulness. He compromised his flight so easily, without even knowing if I’d go on the trip with him.
“That’s really sweet, Nico.” Obviously, I’ve flown first class in the past, but lay-flat seats, cashmere, and hundreds of dollars of skin care have never been part of the routine. “Do you do this often? What am I even asking, you must, especially since you’rerichrich,” I muse.
“Every once in a while.”
Definitely arichrich person’s answer.
I yearn to pull out my phone and see how much these tickets cost. They have to be way more expensive than the economy seat I was going to purchase to New York, and that ticket had two layovers.
No, it doesn’t matter. Remain present.
“Lil, stop spinning your wheels over there and enjoy this.” He winks at me. “Actually, I have something for you.”
“There’s more?” This is next-level treatment. Usually, my dates pay for a thing or two and spend the rest of the trip reminding me how generous they are. But Nico isn’t a date; he’s afriend.
I’m beginning to sound like a nuisance in my own head, but if I keep saying we’re just friends, it’s bound to stay that way and I can ignore the flutters of anticipation every single time he goes out of his way to make something feel special for me.
He tugs open the zipper of his backpack and pulls out a box with a neatly-tied satin ribbon. I set down the pouch of luxuries and snatch the gift from him before unwrapping it.
“Seriously?” I suck in a breath, immediately closing the box.
He leans over the partition, shoving his grinning face close to mine. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his amber eyes. “I know yours is out of commission.”
“This is a couple’s vibrator, Nico.” I hand him the box, but he pushes it out of his vicinity.
“Let’s try it out right now,” he says with a provocative smile.
Nerves and arousal alight in my chest like a shot of liquor. How does he always manage to throw me a bit off balance when I’m typically the one in control of situations?
“No way.” I tuck the gift under my seat and flag the flight attendant for one of those glasses of champagne.
This is going to be a long trip.
Three complimentary flutes of bubbly and only forty-five minutes into our eleven-hour flight later, I shut the restroom door and return to my pod. Nico watches me with the excitement of a child being told they’re going to Disneyland.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I hiss before shifting in my seat. The toy moves inside me, the silicone ribbing already teasing my clit as I try to get into a comfortable position.
One of his corded arms reaches over me, closing my sleeping pod door. It feels like we’re the only people on this plane.
