Looking away, I try not to blush.
The plane begins its ascent and the roar of the engines is loud. Fenton whips out a file from his briefcase and gives it a once-over. Again, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. He’s going to work on this trip, but do I just ride along until he wants to give me attention? I have no idea and it’s killing me. I can’t ask him yet, anyway. It’s too loud. So I pull my Kindle out of my bag and try to become invested in a second-chance romance about a rock star, but it’s nearly impossible sitting next to him. Each time I become engrossed in the words, he moves and my senses are assaulted by his proximity. The third time this happens, I search the ebook for “cock” and start reading a sex scene. The anticipation, the build-up, of finally being alone with him is getting the best of me and I need some form of undoing. If that has to be done via fictional character, then so be it.
The heroine is taking the hero’s cock in her mouth when a low rumble radiates beside me. Startled, I look up and see Fenton smirking.
“What?” I push the power button on my e-reader and place it on my lap. I realize the jet has leveled off and it’s quiet in the cabin. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just wondering what you’re reading.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he says, his eyes darkening, “Your entire posture changed. Your lips parted, your breathing became labored. I’m intrigued.”
“I don’t think you’d be interested in this.”
“Trust me—if it gets that kind of reaction out of you, I’m definitely interested.”
Dragging in a lungful of air, I remember Presley’s pep talk on the way here and decide I have nothing to lose.
I switch on the tablet and find the page. “She drew his cock into her mouth, stroking his shaft as she licked a pool of semen from the tip.” I glance over my shoulder and his eyes are wide. I wink. “A growl escaped his throat as she stroked his velvety shaft, running her tongue—”
“Enough.” He snatches the Kindle from my grasp and places it on his briefcase. “Fucking hell, Brynne. Do you want fucked right here?”
“Maybe?”
He shakes his head, his chest rising and falling in tempo with mine. A low growl sounds from his throat as his hands drag roughly down his face. He’s flustered, his knuckles turning white as he grips the arm rests.
I did this to him. I worked this man into a frenzy.
The longer it takes him to get himself together, the more heady the feeling becomes. It’s a powerful thing, knowing a man like him wants you. I want to keep reading, to force him to react, but I can’t because he’s taken the Kindle from me. Instead, I watch him turn to face me, his features wearing a determined look.
“We aren’t doing that here.” It’s a simple statement, one I’m not sure he’s one-hundred percent behind.
“Isn’t that what you brought me here for?”
He watches me out of the corner of his eye and chuckles, a low, cautionary ripple. “You have no idea. But I don’t want to do that in front of an audience, and believe it or not, there are a handful of people on board at the moment.”
I didn’t think of that. Or maybe I did and didn’t care. But after his admonishment, I realize how silly it would’ve been. I rest back in my seat and try to get a grip.
“And, for the record, that’s not the only reason I asked you to come.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really. Maybe we should talk about the next few days?” he asks.
“Yes,” I exhale. “That would be great, actually. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, or well, anything. It’s nerve-wracking.”
“I don’t want you feeling that way.” His eyes search mine. “I don’t want you to be nervous, Brynne. I want you to enjoy this trip and relax and have fun. So if anything bothers you or you feel awkward, please tell me. Promise you’ll tell me?”
I nod.
“All right. I have a lot of work to pack in to the next few days. I’ll be gone a lot and I might ask you to accompany me to a dinner or two. But I’ll give you notice if that’s the case. These trips just fluctuate and are hard to predict. When I’m gone, feel free to enjoy yourself. Whatever you need, any expenses you encounter, just charge them to our room and I’ll handle it.”
“I—”
“That wasn’t a question,” he grins. “It’s cut and dry. When I’m not working, I want you to be with me. If there’s a show you want to see or somewhere you want to eat, we can do that. But I do want you available to me completely at those times. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper. It shouldn’t seem as hot as it does to be at someone’s beck and call, but I can’t deny the heat singeing my veins. The look he’s flashing me is doing everything but actually penetrating me, and I need the release. Desperately.