Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Excuse me, miss? You’re making a lot of noise,” says a woman.
I blink up at the flight attendant. My cheeks hot. “Sorry. I just really love flying.”
She shakes her head, and I get up to splash cold water on my face. I’m burning up inside and out.
I get to the bathroom in the back, and the tiny door opens. It’s Logan. I don’t know why he’s back here in riffraff class, but I instantly feel my body pulling toward him.
I’m so fucking turned on right now. And he’s what I want.
I’m unsure if it’s the look in my eyes that gives away what I’m thinking, but Logan’s expression turns from neutral to simmering in three seconds flat.
I push him back inside and shut the door behind me.
I throw my arms around him and press my mouth to his. My tongue lashes against his as I push my breasts into his chest. He tastes so good, but the feel of him against my body is even better.
I go for his jeans and undo the button fly, knowing full well what’s waiting inside. I’ve seen him naked. With pickles and without.
I slide my hand down and wrap my fingers around his girth. He’s already hard and feels silky and sensual in my hand. As I stroke, he lets out a low growl that only sends more intense pulses surging through my core.
“I want you inside me,” I pant.
He turns me around to face the mirror. I help him work my jeans to my knees. My clit is throbbing, pulsing, and aching for the hard release that’s cued up and ready for his electric touch.
I lean forward a little, planting my hands on the sink. I watch his lustful expression in the mirror—the hungry blue eyes, the sensual lips, the tense jaw. His body, much larger than mine, frames me in the mirror, especially those broad shoulders.
I feel his hand and then something softer, something eagerly nudging at my slick entrance, and then—
He thrusts hard, stealing my breath. Ohgod. Ohgod. I clench my eyes shut. I knew he’d feel good, because a man with such perfect equipment is designed for this, but I never imagined how good.
I tilt my ass higher, allowing him to get deeper as he thrusts again, his intense gaze locked on the reflection of my face as he goes again.
He reaches around, pressing on my bud, and begins pistoning his hips with primal force. I’m already at the edge, ready to fall, when he leans his tall frame into me. He presses his forehead to the back of my neck and grinds his cock inside me. I feel him coming, twitching with small thrusts as he growls. The sound is delicious.
The orgasm tears through me and sucks me inside myself to the center of the pleasure. I feel like I’m collapsing, dissolving into a puddle of nothing. So good. So good.
A loud knock on the door pulls me from the ecstasy of the moment.
Logan kisses my cheek and pulls out, putting himself away. I get my jeans back up and grab a paper towel, dousing it with water to press against my neck and forehead.
I expect Logan to say something or look at me, but he doesn’t. He unlocks the door and waits for me to wiggle out of the tight space.
The man outside smirks at us as we pass him. He knows what we were doing just now.
That makes one of us. I just had unprotected sex in an airplane bathroom with a man who doesn’t like me very much. And I loved it.
I head to my seat with Logan walking right behind me. I can sense him there, even though I’m looking ahead. He has an energy that makes him impossible to ignore.
I sit and watch him disappear behind the first-class curtain without so much as a glance.
What just happened? Because I can still feel him inside me, moving with savage, hungry strokes. I can smell his sweet scent on my clothes. And now I know my worst fear is coming true. He pushed my boundaries, and I want him to do it again.
And I still don’t want to share him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It’s already pitch-black outside by the time we arrive to Miami and grab our rental—some big, black SUV. Logan is quiet, though the mood is anything but calm. His square jaw is tense, and his expression is hard.
Me, I can’t shake the butterflies in my stomach. But it’s more than knowing we’ll be at the coconut farm in forty minutes. My insides are churning because I sense everything about to come to a head. It’s in the air—this, this energy, the emotions, and the pent-up words we’ve been carrying. For the record, I don’t think they’ll be nice words because I see two paths in front of me, and neither leads to a happy place.