“What does it look like, sweetheart?”
What had happened to his fear of flying? Was it really only going up and going down, and once in the air, he didn’t care? “Maybe you need me to hold your hand again so you’re not worried about whether the plane hits turbulence and falls out of the sky.”
“Is that supposed to help?”
“Wouldn’t holding my hand calm you?”
He smiled, laughed at her actually. “Close your eyes.” Which was what he did, preparing to ignore her.
She pursed her lips. They had a two-hour drive after arriving in Chicago. He’d admitted to a nice catnap that afternoon. But she hadn’t been able to sleep a wink last night or during the day.
What was the whole takeoff-your-panties thing? He drove her crazy. Absolutely insane. She didn’t know what he was thinking most of the time, so she may as well get some sleep before she drove herself crazy thinking about why he’d said it.
She’d begun to fade, the soft rustles of the other passengers, the faint snores, coughs, and other miscellaneous sounds seeming to blend into one comforting drone. Mellow, relaxed ... a warm hand slid between her thighs. Max’s eyes flew open.
Blanket pulled to his shoulders, eyes closed, Witt’s head lolled in her direction. Anyone else would have thought him deep in dreamland, but he nudged her legs apart.
The man was a cop. He shouldn’t be doing stuff like that, not with a planeload of people around. His hand action had to be illegal, maybe immoral. Certainly risky. But Max didn’t stop the slow climb of his fingers along the inside of her thigh.
You’re not stopping him because you like it.
Cameron. Why did he have to choose this moment to make himself known? Go away.
His chuckle seemed to fill the cabin, then whoosh out some unseen crack in the fuselage. Max slid down in her seat and parted her legs, letting Witt take what he wanted. She didn’t care if it was kinky. It felt good. Witt felt good. Rolling her head on her seat, she looked at him, and this time his eyes were open and blue-hot.
The blanket muffled the soft chink of a snap popping on her skirt, and his finger brushed her pubic hair.
“Getting much better at taking direction, aren’t you?” he murmured so softly she had to read his lips.
“I promised you I was going to change.” She’d promised him she’d try, which for her meant she wouldn’t fight him as much, wouldn’t take him for granted all the time, and occasionally she’d give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she wouldn’t even fight him about getting a room together. Now seemed a good time to put all her good intentions into practice. Especially when... “Ooh.”
His eyes blazed. He’d found the right spot, and she’d rewarded him, however unintentionally, with the sound he said he loved. He didn’t break eye contact, stroking around and over her clitoris, then down, inserting a finger for a brief second before coming back.
She sucked in a breath and pushed back into her seat, her left hand closing around the armrest nearest the window.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered, but her lids were already doing that of their own accord, as if somehow attached by a string to the increasing delight between her legs. The better the sensations became, the harder it was to keep her eyes open.
His hand barely made a ripple beneath the blanket, but it sent delicious shockwaves to the deepest parts of her body. She bit her lip against the louder more vehement ooh that wanted to come out.
She put her hands beneath the blanket, tugging it high around her shoulders and creating a small tent over her lap. Slipping off a shoe, she pulled one leg up on the seat and tucked it beneath the other. Then she closed her eyes and gave herself up to him.
Arching her back drove her clitoris hard against his finger. He slid in her moisture, a tremor of warmth working its way inside her. She was unbelievably wet and hot with the whole kinky idea of letting him do this in public. The naughtiness. The fear of being caught if the stewardess suddenly ambled by.
Witt penetrated her with one finger, then another, delving deep. She almost flew out of the seat. Her body flexed around him. She sucked in a breath, stifled a moan, frantically wondering how she’d keep her mouth shut when she came. Rocking slightly, she set a rhythm, begging him to follow. She couldn’t help placing one hand over his and pushing down. The new pressure sent a rush of warmth, a flood of moisture.
Then he pulled back, found the button of her clitoris, and worked it with such expertise that Max squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip, and came in a kaleidoscope of colors. She held her breath until the last of her shudders slipped out through her fingers and toes, then she exhaled slowly, and collapsed against the seat.