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I laugh. I can’t help it. “You want to kiss me now?
“I want to kiss you all the time.” He doesn’t wait until I respond but gets up from the seat and prowls over to me. Heart hammering, I watch him come, knowing there’s not much I can do to stop him.
I don’t want to stop him.
I want Max to kiss me just the way he promised.
He leans on the armrests and bends over until his mouth—those lips—are only inches from mine.
I have trouble breathing.
I close my eyes as his lips rest for a moment against my temple. Slide down to my cheekbone. Move lower to press against the corner of my mouth. “You smell—”
The plane hits a pocket of turbulence and suddenly Max is leaning on me—one hand sliding down and caught between the armrest and my hip, the other coming to rest on my chest.
My breast.
“Oh, wow.” He laughs, pulling away only to have the plane lurch again. He loses his balance, ending up on his knees before me. “I didn’t mean—you smell incredible, by the way—”
I lean in and kiss him.
It’s not the kiss he promised. There’s nothing soft or gentle. I go in hard, mouth open. Wanting. Needing. Demanding.
Max steps up to meet me.
There’s a clash of teeth before the angle is right, before his lips slot over mine, his tongue already in my mouth.
I groan. I can’t help it.
It happens so fast; his mouth is magical, transporting me to another time, another place. His lips are as unbelievable as a fantasy film, but they’re real.
I hope they’re real because my entire body is focused on what is happening here. Focused and reacting… My hands find his shoulders, plunge into his hair, so soft under my grasping fingers. And I’m sliding forward, wanting to be closer, as close as I can…
I don’t hear the flight attendant come in. Don’t hear her clear her throat, try to get Max’s attention. Don’t hear anything because now I’m on the floor with Max, propped between the seat and his strong thighs, one of his hands on my ass, the other—
“Please fasten your seat belts!”
I freeze, mouth still on Max’s, breathing in his breath. “Fuck,” he murmurs, his lips still against mine.
20
Maximus
It’s not easy buckling a seat belt when you’re as hard as Captain America’s Vibranium shield.
Cady, of course, looks as unruffled as a tube of Pringles, even though, not a moment before, she was thisclose to dry humping me.
At least I think she was. I would have been all for that.
And now she won’t even look at me. She sits back in her chair and buckles her seat belt, without even a hint of a smile on that perfect face, that perfect mouth that I now know what it tastes like.
I want more of her taste.
“Cady,” I finally say.
“Maximus.” She glances up, oh so casually, amber eyes darkening to the colour of a fine Scotch.
“What the hell was that?”
