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“That’s good. Hand this to Patty at the door and have a great vacation!” she says, giving me a new slip of paper.
I thank her and jog down the tunnel leading to the plane where Patty, a stout woman with a frown marring her face, is standing. Placing the new ticket in her outstretched hand, I wait patiently for her to guide me to my seat.
“Come on, let’s get you on the flight before the passengers complain … more.”
Oh boy, this is going to be fun.
Patty directs me down a short aisle and through a set of navy curtains. My brows furrow in confusion and I look back over my shoulder, catching sight of the economy seats just beyond the swaying fabric separating business class from the rest. This can’t be right. The other attendant said I was getting the last open seat on the flight—likely something uncomfortable, right?
“Here you are, 8A.” Say what now? Patty points to an empty seat that looks worlds away from the seats I’ve flown in before. This one screams luxury with overly padded cushions made of what looks like buttery soft fabric, gadgets and gizmos I have no idea what to do with but I’m excited to find out, and best of all, the seat reclines flat. Holy hell, this is going to be heaven. Damn if I’m not giddy for this surprising twist.
“Are we departing now that the final passenger has found her way to the plane?”
Oh damn.
Danger. Alert.
A shiver slices through me, eliciting a flurry of goosebumps that skitter up my arms and down my spine. I snap my mouth shut to seal in the keening noise pushing up my throat. Whoa, that’s different. I’ve never been turned on by a voice before. I mean, yeah, I find various accents attractive just like the next person, but a physical response like my thighs clamping together? Nope. Definitely never experienced that.
My throat works, bobbing up and down as I swallow roughly just in case that pesky noise tries to evacuate my mouth again, without my permission. I relax my face into a neutral expression before glancing over at the man sitting next to me—the man whose voice could narrate some seriously sizzling smut books that would lead to a shortage of batteries and silicone. Yes, please.
The irritated scowl pinching his face does nothing to detract from his stupidly beautiful features. Someone definitely crafted this man after the Greek deities, that’s for sure. Strong jaw peppered with a few days worth of shadowing and thick locks the color of midnight lure you in, but it’s his gaze that traps you without remorse. A beguiling torrent of heat and irritation flares in his amber eyes, stealing my breath and holding it hostage.
“We’ll be leaving shortly, sir, not to worry,” Patty says, breaking the spell between us.
The grumpy god flicks his attention to the flight attendant, and air whooshes back into my lungs. Note to self, don’t look directly in his eyes for the rest of the flight.
“Are you sure? That’s the same line we were fed fifteen minutes ago. If we’re expected to arrive on time, I expect the flight to leave on time,” he says icily and I choke back the giggle building in my throat. Now is not the time to garner his attention again. But seriously? What’s his problem? A few minutes isn’t going to make a difference.
Slipping off my bags, I stow them overhead and drop down into my seat. Quickly, I pull out my phone to text the babes before the no electronics sign comes on.
Rumor
Made it onto the plane just in the nick of time. They upgraded me to business class—yay me. Unfortunately, I’m sitting next to Mr. Grumpy Pants. The stick up his ass has got to be a mile long.
* * *
Harper
Glad you made it in time. Sorry I couldn’t be there this morning, my boss called in a panic and I had to handle his meltdown.
* * *
Harper
Remind me at dinner on Thursday that I’ve sworn off alcohol for a month. No, six months. Trying to fix broken code while nursing a hangover from hades with your boss screaming in your ear is not something I ever want to experience again.
A giggle tumbles out of me and I relax back into my seat, toeing off my sandals and tucking my legs beneath me. Harper isn’t one to drink in excess, poor thing is probably hurting pretty bad today. A throat clears next to me, close enough that I can hear the low rumble underlining it. I swing my gaze towards the sound, falling head first into amber eyes pouring over me like honey warmed by the sun.
Idiot. Trapped again.
My fingers dig into the padded armrest. Her sweet lavender scent coats my tongue, filling my lungs as if she’s embedding herself within me. I clear my throat—infusing the growl rattling through my chest in it. Who does this woman think she is? Does she think rules do not apply to her? First, she’s late, delaying the plane and everybody on it, and now she’s blatantly ignoring the flight attendant who’s asking her to turn her phone off.
Vibrant green eyes full of innocence and curiosity sweep across my face and I swear my cock tries to punch a hole through my jeans. Fuck. I subtly adjust myself, placing the complimentary pillow over my lap while keeping the redhead with a mouth made for fucking locked in my sights. God, she’d be fun to break. Unfortunately for me, there’ll be no play on this trip. I’m going back to Puerto Vallarta for one reason only. Not that it matters anyway, I have conditions. Contracts for the women I engage in a sexual relationship with and something tells me the wild girl next to me isn’t one for following rules. I doubt she reads the fine print.
“Ma’am, turn off your cell phone and buckle your safety belt, we cannot depart until everyone has done so.” The flight attendant's voice is clipped, and I can’t say I blame her, this is the third time she’s said it.
The doe eyed bambi blinks slowly a few times like she’s coming back to her body and shakes the fog from her head. Bouncing curls dance over her shoulders and my fingers itch to wrap the red strands around my fist and tug until she’s moa–Carajo, what is this girl doing to me? I’m clearly a decade her senior and my tastes are … particular.
