‘Do you want me to open the door, Chloe? Because if you do, if you really do, I’ll do it, and I’ll let you go. But if I open the door now, and we go back to our seats having done nothing in here, it will be game over. I won’t play again.’
‘Guys like you don’t have to play,’ I said, all breathy. ‘You don’t have to try to get laid. It just happens.’
‘Oh, I’m trying, Chloe. I’m trying hard. But as I said, time’s up. Now … or never.’
The aircraft lurched again, and I found my arms going helplessly around him. When the plane levelled out, I drew back. ‘Nick, we have to go back to our seats before we both end up battered and bloody.’
He took my hand, put it over his heart, palm flat, the way he’d done that night. ‘I won’t let you get hurt. I’ll keep you safe.’
I swallowed as I looked up at him. ‘Nobody can promise that.’
‘Not if you won’t let them.’ I felt his heartbeat, strong and heavy, as our eyes locked and held. My breath caught and I thought … yes.
And then the plane lurched once more, I staggered backwards, and the moment was gone. I cleared my dry throat. Managed a little dismissive laugh. ‘Yeah, you’re not actually a superhero, Nick!’
He grinned. ‘Sure I am. Erection Man. And you can be –’
‘Vanishing Girl, that’s what I can be,’ I said, and reached for the lock again.
‘What about being my girl, instead?’ he asked.
I froze, staring at the lock. The words ‘Hell no!’ formed in my head. But when I opened my mouth, what came out was, ‘I only just broke up with your teammate.’
‘History is history, Chloe, whether it’s a day, a week, a year, or a thousand years. This is between you and me now.’
‘The announcement – about the break-up – isn’t even out yet.’
‘So?’
‘So, I couldn’t do that to him.’
‘You already did. Time to suck it up, princess, because there’s no going back. You kissed me. And that changed everything.’
I was shaking my head. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Yes, Chloe, it is.’
‘That kiss shouldn’t have happened.’
‘Except that it did.’
‘It was just a … a moment. A lapse. I just needed … That night I needed …’ I was floundering, badly.
The plane listed suddenly, and as I slipped, Nick grabbed me, pulled me in close, and I closed my eyes because something weird was happening to my insides and I wanted to feel it. ‘The martinis,’ I said, trying to sound dismissive. ‘It was the martinis. That’s why I kissed you.’
‘Oh, the martinis,’ he said. ‘In that case, this will be easy. I’ll get you as many martinis as you want. I’ll go and drain the business class bar right now! Or – hang on – I’ll ring the call button and have them bring in a full bottle of gin and a bowl of olives.’
I started laughing. How could I not? Until he tipped my face up to his, and my eyelids fluttered open.
‘Do you need a martini, Chloe?’ he asked,
‘No,’ I said shakily.
‘So how about we start with a kiss,’ he said. ‘And then we’ll move on to sex. The way we should have done, that night.’
‘And what would that have made me, when I was still with Marcus?’
‘Mine, Chloe,’ he said simply. ‘It would have made you mine. The way you should have been a year ago. The way you would have been, if I’d seen you first. But you have to ask me. You have to choose me. The way I’ve chosen you.’
Ooohhhhh. The words hit, so potent. And what Drew had said was in my head. Keep him a deep, dark secret. If he doesn’t perform to your satisfaction, you can return him to the manufacturer and Marcus will never know.
‘So come on, Chloe, cards on the table. What’s it going to take?
‘Confidential,’ I breathed. ‘Nobody can know.’
‘Done.’
‘And … And it’s only while we’re in the Philippines.’
‘No.’
‘Yes! Otherwise I can’t do it. I can’t do it to him. I just – God, I can’t believe I’m even thinking about it.’ I pulled out of his arms.
‘Okay,’ Nick said quickly, and hauled me straight back. ‘Only in the Philippines. If that’s the deal, I’ll live with it. But we’re sealing the deal now, right now, while I’ve got you. So come on, Chloe.’
‘What are we going to do? Play “you show me yours and I’ll show you mine”?’
‘You see?’ he said, releasing me and reaching for his jeans. ‘I knew you wanted to see mine.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
And holy shit – no pun intended, toilet proximity notwithstanding – did he show me his!
In five seconds max, before I could even reach behind for my skirt zipper, his jeans and underwear were down, and he was standing there with his very impressive hard-on on display. Talk about size! He had length and girth and perfect scale – for a freaking giant! There was so much of it, no way could his T-shirt keep it under wraps. So much, I wondered how I was going to cope, having been celibate for months. But by God I was going to give it a go. I started fumbling behind me for my skirt fastening.
‘No time, and no room,’ he said, and relieved me of the need to undress by grabbing the sides of my tight skirt and wrenching upwards. A fraction of a second later, my pink silk knickers were shoved down.
And he was looking at ‘mine’ – freshly Brazilianed, which I was thinking was a good thing, going by the hungry look on Nick’s face. He was staring so hard, I thought he was doing some kind of mental scan, storing the sight in his memory banks. And despite still having my skirt on, with my silk camisole top intact, my jacket buttoned, my high heels on, I had never felt more naked, or more open. On display, and just plain ready for sex.
It may have been the most bizarre moment of my life. The two of us standing in the tiny toilet cubicle, looking so intently at each other’s sex organs I wouldn’t have been surprised to see little laser-flares shoot out of our eyes. I was longing to touch him. I had never felt so hot and achy in my whole life. And it both scared me half to death, and excited me past bearing.
The sudden in-flight announcement startled us into lifting our eyes. The Captain has turned off the seatbelt sign. You are now free to move about the cabin, and our crew will shortly recommence in-flight service.
We both grimaced. Our privacy was about to come to an end.
‘Chloe,’ he said, and everything in me fizzed at the husky urgency in his voice. ‘There is no way I’ll last through eight hours sitting out there, knowing what’s under your skirt without having it. And I swear, if someone interrupts us before it’s done, I am going to kill them. So we’re going to have to skip the foreplay. Okay? Are you with me? I have to hear you say you want it too.’
‘Yes, yes,’ I said, so okay with the hard and fast option, I would have jumped him in the next heartbeat. ‘Hurry. And if you tell me you’re not packing, I’m going to be the one doing the killing.’
He laughed, but the sound was strained, and so was the look on his face as he reached for his jeans, hiked them up just far enough to reach into the back pocket, and produced a condom. ‘Boy scout,’ he said. ‘Always prepared. Take your panties all the way off – that’s all you need to do. I’ll do the rest.’
So there I was, shoving impatiently at my underwear, stumbling a little as the pink silk snagged on one of my heels but ready to rip those kickers to pieces if I had to. Half hopping, skirt bunched up around my hips, not truly believing I was about to join the Mile High Club, but starting to shake with lust at the thought of it.
The crackle of the condom wrapper caused a new hit of moisture between my thighs. It was like my body was saying, Hello, we’re ready here, hurry the hell up. Even the prospect of a queue of people outside, crossing their legs because we were denying them access to the toilet, wasn’t enough to contain it. God, God, God, I wanted so badly to touch him.
‘Let me put it on you,’ I
said.
He shook his head. ‘Next time. I won’t last if you touch me, and I want to be inside you when I come this first time.’
This first time. Oh God. I had eight glorious days of secret sex coming my way.
Three seconds later, the condom was on. And then Nick set his feet, leaned his shoulders back against the door for support or leverage or who the hell cared why, reached for my hips, and asked, ‘Ready?’
I nodded – it was impossible to get a word out.
You’d think it would have been awkward. Elbows knocking into walls, heads banging together, feet slipping. But nope. As he slid his hands around to my bottom and tugged me in, I knew it was going to be solid and safe and wonderful.
Then he lifted me up, hitched my thighs either side of his hips. ‘Bring your knees up and brace them on the door behind me if you need to,’ he whispered. ‘Do whatever you have to do to feel comfortable, move any way you want – I’ll catch you and hold you no matter what. I’ll keep you safe. Okay?’
Safe. That word again. And it was more than okay, to hear it and know it was true, that I could take what I wanted, how I wanted it, and let myself go. So I slid and scrunched and wiggled in his mountain-strong arms, knowing I could. And he didn’t let me slip, even once, not by a millimetre. He just held me, waiting for me to accommodate myself the best way I could, and then, a harsh breath against my neck. ‘Chloe?’ A question, and he waited until I nodded. And a split second later, he was crushing me closer, pushing inside me, connecting so easily, so beautifully that I couldn’t help moaning.
‘Holy mother of God, you’re it, Chloe,’ he groaned, and then he sucked in a breath as I pushed myself harder onto him. He made some slight adjustment to his position, shifted his feet, gripped my bottom harder, slid further in – again – and then … all the way.
Heaven.
I ground myself onto him so hard and tight, he almost couldn’t get any leverage to withdraw and thrust again, but the feeling of him inside me, of being completely full of him, was so divine, I couldn’t help it – I just wanted him jammed in me, going nowhere but there.
He kissed me, once, hard, on the mouth, and then his head dropped to my shoulder as he inched back slowly, as far as I would let him withdraw, and pushed into me again, slowly, luxuriously. ‘I knew you’d feel like this,’ he said in my ear. ‘Hot and tight and wet.’
I groaned, couldn’t keep it in.
‘I can’t wait to get you into bed tonight,’ he whispered. ‘But right now, I have to tell you, I am going to come. Any second. Let me bring you with me.’ Pause, as he twisted, maneuvering himself a tiny fraction inside me, and hit a spot so perfect, I felt the tell-tale tremors start immediately. There. There, there, theeeeeere.
‘Oooooh. Ohhhhh.’ Me, gasping like a crazy woman, and wishing I could lay him out flat and throw myself all over him.
‘Are you coming?’ he asked.
My answer was a wailing, ‘Oh my Gooooood.’ Had my eyes rolled back in my head? Did I care? No, I did not. ‘H–how do you know how to d–do th–that?’
‘It’s the fit.’ Thrust. ‘Perfect.’ Push. ‘With you. Ah, God. It’s too – Too good. Jesuuus.’ And he slapped his mouth on mine, muffling both our cries with a molten kiss, while I exploded in the hottest, brightest orgasm of my life.
He kept kissing me as the fire faded, as my legs slid down either side of him, as he withdrew from me. And then I felt him smile against my mouth. And I found myself smiling back. And we were laughing. And it was perfect.
He pulled my skirt back down. Adjusted the lapels of my jacket. Ran a hand over my hair to neaten it. One more fast kiss, and then he trailed a fingertip over my mouth as though he’d smooth that back into place too – but it felt bruised, and I knew it would be swollen, unable to be magicked back to normal. Still, his tenderness took me by surprise. We’d just had sex, as basic as it could get. Hands-free, sight-free, knees-up, no-foreplay sex in an aircraft toilet – possibly the best sex of my life, but certainly there had been nothing tender about it. So why was he touching me so gently now?
I pulled away, and bent awkwardly to pick up my panties off the floor, but he stopped me.
‘Uh-uh. They’re mine for the flight.’
‘What? No.’ I bent for them again – but he got there first.
‘I need the proof that it really, finally happened,’ he said, tucking them into the front pocket of his jeans. ‘I want to think of you sitting close by without your underwear. I want you to know that the little scrap of silk I’ve got in my pocket is making me remember the feeling of being inside you. And while you’re sitting there, knowing what’s on my mind, I want you to imagine what I’m going to do to you in Manila tonight, when we have a bed at our disposal, and I can use my tongue on you.’ He paused there to give me a groan of a kiss. ‘God, I am hard as a rock again, already. If I’ve only got a week, I’m going to be all over you every chance I get. The minute anyone’s back is turned, whenever you’re within touching distance. I want to make you come a thousand times, so get ready to have my fingers, my mouth, my cock, everything, all over you. Better book in for a week at a spa for when you get home. You’re going to need the rest.’
One more kiss, then he opened the door, pushed me through.
The door re-closed and locked behind me.
There were three people waiting in a line, all of them staring at me. They knew what I’d just done. I was knickerless in public for the first time in my life. And I just did not give a damn, because I had just been given an orgasm that had blown my freaking mind and was now busily picturing Nick Savage ‘all over’ me.
It was going to be a loooong flight.
Loooong … and torturous. Because frequent skirt readjustments were required to ensure I didn’t flash the elderly lady in the seat next to me. And every time I tugged my skirt, I remembered how Nick had kissed me, like it was his last kiss on earth. Which caused a little aftershock to ripple through me. Which caused another skirt readjustment and … Well, you get the picture. It was like a never ending almost-orgasm cycle.
Every time I sensed someone walking up the aisle from the rows behind me, I steeled myself for a touch on my shoulder – Nick’s touch on my shoulder – at which point almost-orgasm would doubtless morph into the full on screaming Yes, yes, yes variety. And how I would explain that to the lady in the next seat, I didn’t know!
But through a whole meal service and one in-flight movie, my shoulder remained unmolested. So … what was going on? I had no idea, but I could hardly bowl on back to row fifty-three and demand to know why the guy who supposedly wanted to be all over me every chance he got not only wasn’t coming anywhere near me, but was spending his time flirting with a veritable sea of flight attendants.
When, finally, the touch on my shoulder came, there was nothing orgasmic about it. Because I knew, even before looking up, it wasn’t Nick. It was too tentative.
Sure enough, it was Derek, wanting to talk work. Which was not a bad thing, because I really needed to get my mind out of the … er … toilet if I was to survive the flight.
I eased out of my seat – with a new respect for commando-going celebrities (being knicker-free in public wasn’t for the fainthearted) – and Derek and I discussed options for interviewing a couple of flight attendants from the Do-It-Right team. We decided the best space was near the wing, where there was a little extra room, and then did a quick roam through the aircraft – me going forward of row forty-nine (for obvious reasons) and Derek going backward – for suitably photogenic interviewees. We settled on Barnaby, an enthusiastic guy in his thirties, and Leila, a gorgeous blonde from the business class cabin who had impressive gravitas for a girl who was all of about twenty.
The interview started beautifully, and may have kept going that way if Leila’s eyelids hadn’t popped open like a couple of champagne corks shooting out of the bottle halfway through. Something – no, obviously it was a someone – was coming up behind me. No prizes for guessing who could mak
e a girl preen and pat her hair into place mid-interview, as Leila was doing.
My pulse kicked and my ears started buzzing as the salty scent of him slid into my nostrils, but at least my freaking eyelids didn’t pop open! On the other hand, I wasn’t processing a word of what was issuing forth from Barnaby’s mouth – but since Barnaby’s mouth was definitely moving, I knew he had to be saying something. And I was going to have to ask him another question when he stopped speaking, hopefully based on what he’d said.
Gah! This was not good.
And then Nick breathed, and I felt it on the back of my neck, and I almost dropped my red folder.
I looked down at my notes, plucked three random questions off the page and bulleted them out – two to Leila, one to Barnaby. I didn’t care what they answered; I’d fix anything clumsy in the edit suite or catch them for another interview on the flight home. I just needed the thing wrapped before I made a total idiot of myself.
I almost sagged with relief when it was over, apparently without anyone noticing how I’d winged it at the end.
‘Hey, Nick,’ Derek said, all hale and matey, as he switched off the camera.
Only then did I allow myself to turn around, a nice fake oh-I-didn’t-see-you-there expression on my face.
But Nick wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at, smiling at, Leila – one of the few flight attendants he hadn’t met, because she’d been confined to the business class cabin.
Business class. Where the facilities were more spacious.
Spacious enough, perhaps, for Nick to use that eager tongue of his on Leila! Who no doubt wouldn’t have to be talked into sex the way I was, judging by the drool pooling in her mouth. (And okay, I couldn’t actually see any drool, but I was sure it was there.)
The combination of Derek’s friendliness, Nick’s smile, Leila’s drool, and the image of the business class toilet facilities zipping into my head irritated me so much, I found myself glaring at Nick.
Escaping Mr Right Page 10
