Page 6

But my heart is still pounding, and I still feel like I’m drenched in a cold sweat. All the work he did before of calming me down has flown out the window, and my head is full of images of the plane dropping out of the sky.

His hand creeps a little higher then. It’s already on my thigh, but it winds up high enough that he’s not far from where my legs meet. His fingers graze close to that spot, and it’s a shock to my system. I suck in a sudden breath that has nothing to do with fear.

My eyes fly up to him, and he’s already looking back at me. I remember the heat in his voice just a little while ago, when he said he learned a lot from romance novels. I can see that same heat in his eyes now.

Without thinking too much of it, I shift my hips slightly, pulling his hand closer. Quietly, I murmur, “I could use another distraction. Maybe… maybe something more hands on.”

Tate holds my gaze for just a beat longer, searching like he’s trying to make sure I’m sure about this. But whatever he sees in my face must be all the confirmation that he needs because he reaches up and grabs a blanket from the overhead compartment, dragging it down so that he can drape it across my lap.

My heart is racing now for a very different reason.

Under the blanket, his hand slides over and up, until he finds the heat of me through my jeans. I bite my lip as the first press of his hand sends warmth gliding down my spine. Slowly and deliberately he touches me, starting off with slow strokes of his fingers that have me spreading my legs to the limits of my seat.

He presses those fingers against me, trying to find the right pressure, gauging my reactions with a small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. When he presses down on my clit, even through the layers of my clothes, I get hit with a surge of heat.

I bite down on my lip, head spinning with the combination of fear and arousal while the plane shakes around us from the turbulence. It seems absurd to be doing this. We’re on a plane full of people, flying through the sky in the middle of a rough patch of air or whatever, and here he is, trying to distract me this way.

It’s not something I ever thought I would do or even want to do, but I can’t deny it feels good. It’s overwhelming and it takes me right out of my head.

Tate keeps going, his fingers stroking and fluttering, working me up and not giving me a moment to breathe. I squirm in my seat, trying to moderate how loud and fast I’m breathing. The last thing I want is for someone to realize what we’re doing. That would be mortifying, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Not when I can already feel the pleasure riding high under my skin, filling me up like it’s ready to spill over.

“I’ve got you,” Tate murmurs, his voice pitched low—for my ears only. The way it wraps around the words makes me shiver, and I fight the urge to press my hips up and buck against his hand.

That would definitely be too obvious.

He must understand that I need more because the strokes of his fingers get more intense. He lingers right where my clit is throbbing, grinding down against it through my jeans and panties.

I swallow hard, letting the heat rise, letting the sensation build.

All of a sudden it sparks sharp and sweet, and I come right there, making a soft noise that I can’t quite suppress.

The woman across the aisle glances over, her face soft with sympathy. “It’s okay,” she says warmly. “The turbulence is over now. I think we’re out of the worst of it.”

Tate’s face stretches into a grin, and I know mine floods with color, on fire with embarrassment.

“Thanks,” I make myself say back. I can’t even look her in the eye.

A few seconds later, the seatbelt sign clicks off, proving her right. Most people around us breathe sighs of relief, but I’m not even focused on the turbulence right now.

I’ve never done anything like this before. My heart is still racing, and I can still feel the tingly aftereffects of that orgasm coursing through me. I’m flushed and buzzing, and still completely turned on.

I could ignore it, pull out my phone and play one of the games I downloaded to help pass the time. I could read one of the books or listen to a podcast or one of my playlists. All the things I usually do on a flight to keep myself from getting too nervous or bored.

But Tate is right there. He’s warm and handsome and interested at least in doing this right now. It seems like it would be a shame to let that kind of opportunity pass by.

I take a deep breath and stand up, glancing down at him. “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I tell him, letting my eyes linger, hoping he takes the hint.

He gets up to let me out, his hand brushing my arm as I move past.

“Yeah?” he asks, that same smile on his face.

I nod, letting the eye contact linger for just long enough to be significant before I walk down the aisle toward the tiny bathroom.

Once the door is closed behind me, I take a minute to breathe. I stare at myself in the mirror, taking in my still pink cheeks and the subtly wild look in my eyes. I splash some cold water on my face, giving myself a silent lecture to calm down.

There’s nothing to do but wait to see if Tate figures it out. And… I guess to see if he wants to come, even if he does know what I meant. As the seconds creep by, I start to wonder if maybe I misread this whole thing.