I watch her to gauge her reaction.
“Oh.” A blush rises up her face as she busies herself by trying to make the short blanket cover her legs and chest area. I see right away that it’s not going to work.
“Here, I have an idea.” I reach under my seat, pull out my jacket, and arrange it over her torso. I lean over her to adjust it, hitching it up on her shoulder, as I cover her up.
She smiles softly and thanks me, making me blush—which is so weird.
I clear my throat. “I have to warn you though . . . this is my favorite jacket. Girls don’t usually get to wear it, so you’re pretty special. No drooling if you fall asleep, okay?”
She bites her lower lip, the one I can’t stop looking at. “If I drool does that mean I get to keep it?”
“Depends.”
“On what?” she says, and her voice has lowered.
“On what you’re willing to do to get it.”
Another silence fills the air between us as we stare at each other, but it’s not weird or uncomfortable. It’s hot and electric.
She breaks the tension by laughing. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to, so I guess you can keep it.”
I laugh.
Damn. She isn’t going to make this easy for me.
Feeling a bit flustered by her, I glance down at the Kindle she stuffed in the seat. With all our talk earlier and her fear of flying, I nearly forgot about it. I nudge my head at her Kindle and clear my throat. “I saw what you were reading. If you want to learn how to make a man fall in love with you, I can offer some advice.”
She cocks her head. “Really? I hope it doesn’t involve me wearing leopard print bikinis and mink coats.”
“Touché.”
She smirks, looking pleased, and it makes me want to kiss her.
“Who’s the guy you’re reading this for?”
She stiffens. “There’s no guy.”
“Un-uh. There’s always a guy.”
She sighs. “Okay, maybe there is a guy, but my cousin Marge actually bought this book.”
“This dude, he isn’t into you?”
“He’s into a lot of girls, most of them popular—and I’m not.”
Rose deserves a nice guy. I don’t know how I know this, but I just do. “Maybe you should play hard to get.”
“I don’t play games.”
“Ah, a girl after my own heart.” I study her flawless skin, taking in the way her lashes flutter against her cheeks. Her long hair is twisted up in some kind of knot with wavy tendrils hanging around her face, and I picture how she’d look with it falling over her shoulders, caressing her naked tits . . .
She rearranges her blanket and her scent hits me, honey and vanilla mingled together. It’s intoxicating, and I laugh off an odd nervousness, fighting the urge to press my nose against her neck and inhale.
Weird, Spider.
She clears her throat. “If I want something, I go after it.”
“Maybe you should focus on someone else.” Like me, Mr. Next to You On The Plane Who Wants to Fuck You.
She shrugs. “Maybe. He is hot.”
Anger flares in my gut. I’m jealous. How . . . bloody silly.
“Is he as hot as I am?” I curl my arm, tightening my bicep for her.
She half-snorts. “You’re charming, I’ll give you that. No wonder poor Betty fell for it.”
“Seriously though . . . is he?” I want to know—I need to know.
She stares at me, seeing that I’m serious. Her gaze lingers on my tattoos. “He’s . . . different from you, more conservative.” She waves her hands around. “He plays sports. You play guitar.”
“Ah.” At least now I know her type.
“Is the book working for you?” I ask.
“Haven’t tried it.”
“Then practice on me. Use some of those wiles from the book. Let me be your guinea pig, and I’ll tell you if you suck.”
Her eyes widen. You know that rich green color the ocean gets after a storm blows in? That’s the color of her eyes. I lean in closer, taking in the gold around the inner parts of her irises. My finger touches the pout of her bottom lip. “How do you make a guy fall, Rose?” I murmur softly. “Tell me.”
Her face goes red as she bites her bottom lip where I touched it. Her tongue darts out and licks the spot. She seems to find her equilibrium though as she clears her throat and leans over to whisper conspiratorially. “Be provocative. That’s the one I just read. Pretty silly, right?”
My cock is hard as steel just from watching her lips say the word provocative. “Not at all,” I say huskily. “Show me how you’re provocative.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t even know you.”
“Which makes it even better. We’ll never see each other again.”
“You’ll laugh.”
I grin. “I dare you.”
Glowering, she considers me for a moment then reaches up and pulls her hair out of the bun it’s in, creating a cascade of long brown hair around her face. Thick and wavy, different colors of autumn curl over her shoulders, making me want to pick up one of the strands and run my fingers through it. I picture her on a bed, her hair all spread out on a pillow . . .
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Nice,” I say as I sniff a strand. “Smells like vanilla. Not my personal favorite”—a lie—“but it works.”
“You’re too much.”
“Not enough, never. What else you got? Throw it at me.”
“Okay, how about this.” She pulls a silver necklace out from her dress and strokes the chain as she simultaneously flicks her hair over her shoulder and sends me a heavy-lidded look. She bats those long lashes at me then chews on her bottom lip. It’s a little silly—but I’m turned on.
“Hmmm, you’re okay,” I muse, feigning disinterest.
Her shoulders deflate. “Really? I mean, that’s the best I have.”
And it’s fucking hot.
“Mind if I take a peek at the book?”
She hands it over and I skim a couple pages, checking out a list of to-dos.
One word: laser. Remove all the hair from your body, including legs, armpits, and southern parts. No man likes hair unless he’s a Neanderthal.
You know what guys hate? Small boobs. Get plastic surgery or give up ever finding a guy.
I can’t read anymore.
“Fascinating that people make money off this drivel,” I say dryly.
“Trust me, I’m too smart to put any stock in it.” She shakes her head ruefully. “Now I’m just embarrassed that you think I’m that stupid.”
Clearing my throat, I dramatically read parts of them aloud. She giggles and tries to shush me, but I’m not having it. The other passengers have noticed and are staring.
Finally, with her face flaming in embarrassment, she pops me on the arm and jerks the Kindle out of my hand. “You’ve got to stop! No one on this plane wants to hear about breast augmentation.”
“Oh, but I do.” An idea comes to me. “Kiss me, Rose.”
“What?” She blinks.
“Kiss me. I’m going to show you how to get your guy, and the first thing you need to know is how to use that gorgeous mouth of yours.”