by B. B. Hamel
“I’m not,” she said.
I pressed my palm against her stomach and she bit her lip, staring into my eyes. I stared back and slowly pressed my hand down underneath the waistband of her jeans, pressing against her underwear.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked.
“I’m sure as fuck you’re soaked,” I said, finding her pussy.
I was right: she was soaking wet. She took a deep breath as I touched her, softly rubbing her.
“Asshole,” she said. “We can’t do this.”
“No?” I whispered in her ear, slipping my hand under her panties and finding her clit. “You don’t think so?”
“We’re going to get caught.”
“You’re going to come,” I said. “Because you’re fucking begging for it, aren’t you?”
She was breathing deeply, clearly trying not to moan as I began to rub her clit, rough circles on her swollen sex. She was loving it. I could feel her body responding as her hands gripped my arms.
“You love when I rub this clit,” I whispered. “You want me to fuck you rough and hard, but I’m not going to. I’m going to make you come just like this.”
“Nash,” she whispered, “we’re going to get caught.”
“Who fucking cares?” I asked. “The only thing I want is to watch your face while you come on my fingers twenty thousand feet in the air.”
“Fuck,” she gasped as I slipped my fingers deep inside her. “Oh shit, Nash. Fuck. We’re going to get caught. We should stop.”
“We should, but we’re not going to,” I said. “I love this fucking pussy. I love how fucking wet you are. Shit, girl, you’re dripping on my fingers. You want to get off as bad as I want you to.”
I began to fuck her pussy with my fingers, not wasting any time. I wanted to push her over the edge fast and hard, make her come on my fingers.
“Shit,” she said, gasping. “I’m being too loud.”
“You can’t help yourself,” I said. “You can’t be quiet when I’m around. I make you wet and fuck your pussy right.”
She bit down on my shoulder and I grunted. It hurt, but it also made me fucking harder. She kept her mouth against me, stifling the noises she was making. I could tell she wanted to get off so badly, and she was moaning through her clenched jaw. I kept fucking her pussy, rubbing her clit, fucking her pussy, back and forth, pushing her closer and closer.
“Come for me, girl,” I whispered. “You love having this pussy fingered and fucked. You’re such a dirty girl getting off in an airplane like this.”
I continued to work her pussy, my fingers pumping in and out of her. She was absolutely soaked, her pussy dripping, and I imagined how amazing it would be to sink my cock deep into her slick spot. Instead, I wanted to get her off, make her come, make her fucking mine.
“That’s right. Come for me, Selena,” I whispered. “Come for me twenty thousand feet in the air. You dirty girl, letting me fuck your pussy with my fingers like this. Come nice and hard for me.”
Her jaw clenched harder and her whole body stiffened, her hands holding on to my arms. I fucked her harder, faster, with my fingers, and I knew I had her. She bit down harder, pain lancing through my shoulder, but I didn’t give a fuck, didn’t slow down.
I kept going as she came, her body twitching, spasming, pleasure rolling through her. I loved watching her come; it was like fucking fire in my veins and made my cock rock hard.
Slowly she finished, the orgasm passing over her. I slipped my fingers from her panties and pushed them into my mouth, licking my fingers clean.
She shook her head at me, panting. “Oh my god, Nash. You’re so dirty.”
I smiled. “You taste fucking good,” I said.
“We have to get out of here,” she said.
“You go first. I’ll follow soon.”
She turned her back to me and tried to fix herself in the mirror the best she could. A minute later she glanced at me, a look filled with pleasure and lust, and then quickly left the bathroom.
I sat down on the toilet, trying to will my fucking erection down enough to walk back to my seat. The girl was incredible, drove me fucking wild. I knew I was crossing all sorts of lines, making all the wrong decisions with her, but I couldn’t help it. She drove me completely insane with that sexy-as-hell look and that incredible body.
A minutes or two later, my cock soft enough to not stand out like a fucking tent, I stood up and slipped out of the bathroom.
Nothing seemed strange. The stewardess gave me a look, but I couldn’t tell if it was because I had taken so long in there or because she knew what we’d done. Either way, it didn’t fucking matter to me.
I got back to my seat. Selena looked at me. “They definitely know,” she giggled into my ear softly.
“Good,” I whispered back. “I want them to know.”
She shook her head. “Business, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “That was all business.”
She smiled in spite of herself and then slipped her headphones back on. She returned to ignoring me, which was fine with me, but she had a smile on her face.
Damn right she did. Not many girls got an orgasm from Nash Bell at twenty thousand feet.
I ordered another whisky the first chance I got, leaned back in my chair, and enjoyed the rest of the fucking flight.
19
Selena
What the heck was wrong with me?
I was so pissed at him. He was so selfish, such an asshole, and yet the second he got close to me, I completely lost my mind.
True, it had felt amazing in the bathroom with him. I’d kept worrying about getting caught, but that had only made it so much hotter. I hadn’t gotten off just from a guy’s hands before like that, and yet he’d managed to push me over the edge like it was no big deal.
I guessed I was a part of the mile-high club. Or at least close enough.
Once the plane landed, we hustled through the terminal and right outside. Fortunately there weren’t any paparazzi this time, and so the drive out to Providence from the airport was pretty uneventful.
I was still annoyed with Nash, but that anger’s edge was pretty blunted from the way he’d handled me. We weren’t exactly chatting it up, but I was trying not to actively ignore him anymore.
The hotel was just off campus, and we arrived around five in the afternoon. Liv was there when we got out of the car. I had no clue how she managed to arrive before we did, or even how she got there at all. It was actually pretty creepy.
“Okay, you two,” she said, “signing is in two hours. Will you be ready?”
“Signing?” Nash grunted.
“Yes. You have a book signing at the campus bookstore at seven.”
“Shit,” he said. “No rest for the wicked.”
“Nope. There’s also a special dinner and cocktail hour for Department of Defense donors afterward.”
I raised an eyebrow. “We’re going to that?” I asked.
“Nash is the face of the department these days,” Liv said.
“I have to shake hands and pretend like I give a fuck what some old people say,” he grunted, annoyed.
“Go get ready,” Livy said. “I want you both there.”
She turned and walked off. I looked at Nash. “How did she beat us here?” I asked him.
He grinned at me. “I have no clue. I think she can fly.”
“Maybe she owns a jetpack.”
“Teleportation.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Has to be.”
We laughed and walked into the hotel together.
A couple hours and a nice, hot shower later and I was sitting at a table in the campus bookstore next to Nash.
The line stretched out the door, just like the line I had stood in only a few days ago. That was a strange thought. Only a few days ago I had been just another faceless undergrad in a line, and now I was somehow married to Nash Bell, my face plastered all over gossip magazines.
Lying to America wasn’t s
o hard. All I needed to do was pretend like I was in love with the biggest asshole I knew. He could be charming sometimes, especially when we were doing a publicity event, which made it a lot easier. Still, day-to-day, he was just a crude, arrogant jerk.
“Okay,” Nash said. “Unleash the hordes.”
Livy nodded to the security guard, who opened up the small rope gate and started to let people through.
“Oh my god,” the first girl in line said. “Nash, I’m such a big fan. I love your book. And I love your interviews.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” he said. “Who do I make it out to?”
“Tracy. Oh my god. I love you.”
“Love you too, girl.” He signed the book as she squealed with delight.
He glanced back at me and I made a face at him. “Are they all like that?” I asked as the girl left.
“Pretty much,” he said, grinning.
Young, attractive girl after girl came up to Nash asking for signatures. There were a few men mixed into the crowd, but just like back at my school, you could tell exactly what the target audience was.
Nash was a freaking sex symbol. I didn’t know how or why that had happened, since he wrote a memoir about the military, but it had happened. Probably because he was very charming during interviews, and since he was so damn attractive.
Ten minutes slipped by that way. Person after endless person came up to him, smiling stupidly, some saying inappropriate things, some just staring at him.
“Nash, can I just, can I touch your arm?” one girl asked.
He laughed. “Sorry, can’t do that. Guards will flip shit.”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe I asked.” She paused as he signed his book. “Please?”
He laughed again and flexed. The girl practically screamed as she touched his flexed muscle and didn’t even spare a glance for me.
“You love this,” I said to him.
He rolled his eyes at me and turned to the next willing and eager young girl.
Girl after girl approached him. Some wanted pictures, some wanted to touch him, and one girl even offered him a blowjob in no uncertain terms.
It was like I was invisible.
Some strange feeling was growing in my chest the whole time. I didn’t really understand it, but I was getting jealous. No, maybe that wasn’t the right word. Nash was free to do whatever he wanted since he wasn’t my real husband. No, I felt disrespected.
Didn’t those girls know he was married? He kept telling them that, over and over again, whenever they suggested something that crossed a line. Not to mention I was sitting right there next to him, smiling at these girls like I cared about them, like they weren’t hitting on my husband right in front of me.
It was completely bizarre. To his credit, Nash never broke character. He wasn’t a jerk to his fans, but he gently reminded each girl that he was married and couldn’t follow her back to her dorm to pile drive her all night long.
It was totally gross, but I was starting to understand why Nash had been sleeping around and drinking so much before we got married. These girls were literally throwing themselves at him, and I bet it was probably pretty hard to say no after a while.
Not that any of it excused his behavior. He was still a player and an asshole; there was no changing that. But at least I understood where it all came from and how he could let it get so bad.
Two hours slipped by like that, and the line seemed like it was never ending. We were nearly finished for the night when a pretty young girl, maybe a freshman, stood in front of the table.
“Hey there,” Nash said. “Want me to sign?”
She nodded shyly. “Can your wife sign, too?”
I was taken aback. All night I had been ignored by every single person in there, and now suddenly someone wanted me to sign a book. Frankly, I was flattered.
“Well?” Nash asked, looking at me with a grin.
“Sure,” I said. “Of course.”
Nash signed and then passed the book to me. “Who do I make it out to?”
“Jessie,” she said.
Jessie, stay cool, I wrote.
Stay cool? What the hell was I thinking?
Before I could fix it, Jessie snatched her book back and scampered off.
Nash looked at me, smirking hugely. “Stay cool?”
“I panicked!” I said.
He laughed, shaking his head. “You sign one book and you write something so absolutely lame.”
“It was a mistake,” I said, blushing.
Livy stood up from where she was sitting and looked at the line. “Okay, we’re really sorry, but we’re done for the night. We’ll be back tomorrow for a longer session. Please come back then.”
The line was clearly annoyed, and there were lots of moans and groans and grumbles, but the security people did a good job of keeping the mob in check. We stood up and followed Livy out the back way where a limousine was waiting for us. We didn’t normally take a limo, and so I was immediately suspicious.
“Okay,” Liv said, “this is taking you to the dinner. You have a change of clothes inside.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“This is a serious dinner,” she said. “You two can change in the car. I’ll take a cab behind you.”
“That’s okay, right, wife?” Nash asked me, grinning hugely.
Bastard. He was enjoying this.
“Of course,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Great. See you two there.” Livy walked off.
“After you,” Nash said. I climbed into the car, feeling incredibly annoyed.
Nash followed me. Inside, he had a tuxedo hanging up and there was a dress there for me.
“Great,” I said. “I get to get changed in the back of a limo in front of you.”
“Sounds great to me.” His grin was maddening.
“Who even picked this out?”
“Liv, I’m sure.”
“Is this dress mine?”
“Probably not. I’m sure she expensed it.”
I shook my head, mystified. “You go first.”
The limo pulled out into traffic. “Gladly.”
He stripped off his shirt, throwing it at me. I laughed as he pulled off his pants and did the same.
“You have no shame,” I said.
“When you look like I do, there’s no reason for it.”
“So cocky too.”
He grinned at me. “I see the way you look at me. I know what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah? What am I thinking?”
“You’re remembering what I can do to you. In the plane, in the hotel room. You know I can make your body feel incredible anywhere, anytime.”
I bit my lip and looked away. He was right. I had been staring at him, and I was thinking about the way he felt when he touched me.
“Just get dressed,” I said.
“Are you sure?” He moved closer to me. “That driver won’t look back here. We can do whatever we want.”
“I want to get dressed.”
“Why so tense?”
I shook my head. “Just get dressed.”
“Okay, wife. Whatever you say.”
I listened as he pulled his shirt and pants on, buttoning them up and working on his tie. He took a few minutes, but when he was done, I looked back at him.
“How do I look?” he asked.
“Handsome,” I said honestly. He cleaned up very, very well.
“Thought so.” He grinned at me. “Your turn.”
I looked at him for a second. “Cover your eyes.”
“Why? Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Look, we just sat in a room while horny college girls threw themselves at you for two hours. I’m not in the mood for this.”
He burst out laughing, and I really regretted saying that.
“Are you jealous?”
“Not jealous,” I said. “More like disrespected. We’re supposed to be married, right?”
He nodded. “You can’t ta
ke it personally.”
“I know that,” I said, frowning.
“Those girls can’t help themselves. They’re like you, completely smitten with me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just look away, please.”
He did as instructed and even put his hand over his face. “Good?”
“Stay that way.”
I pulled the dress off the hanger and studied it. Navy blue, low cut, and probably pretty short, but it was my size. I pulled off my shirt and wiggled out of my pants, tossing them aside.
“Stay covered,” I said.
“I’m just thinking about you over here,” he said. “About your pink, perky nipples. Your perfect tits. The way your ass works as my cock pushes deep inside you.”
I unhooked my bra, tossing it aside. I felt goose bumps down my flesh as my bare skin was exposed to the cool air. Or maybe it was because of the way Nash was talking to me, the dirty things he was saying. I knew I was soaking wet, but there was nothing I could do about that.
“I can picture it now, that face you make as you come. And the way you beg my name as I’m fucking your tight cunt. You know your pussy is perfect, right? You’re always soaked for me, always tight, always ready.”
I didn’t say anything, just slowly pulled the dress on over my body. It fit, though barely. It was tight and almost too short, cut low to show off my cleavage. I noticed a necklace on the seat across from us and pulled my hair up into a bun to put it on.
And Nash just kept talking, kept driving me wild. I wanted so badly to throw my legs around him and ride his cock in the back of this car, let him fuck me rough and hard, make me come.
But we couldn’t. I couldn’t do that, couldn’t keep breaking my own rules. As much as I wanted him, this was strictly business between us.
The more I said that to myself, the more it was so obviously a lie.
“I want to press my tongue against your clit, Selena. I want to taste your soaked pussy, hear your moan, and make you come. I love how your body works, your skin sweats, and your lips pout.”
Chills ran down my skin. “Done,” I said.
He looked at me. “Shit,” he said.
“What?”
