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He smirked and set his book to the side, careful to bookmark it first. “No one can see us back here.”
I breathed his name, glancing around. Sure enough, no one was paying any attention.
He held up a blanket, draping it across my lap after I buckled. “This will let my hand go wherever it pleases,” he whispered in my ear, pretending like he was only leaning over to slide the window cover open.
Heat roared through me as the blanket settled over my legs. When Bash had insisted on picking out my outfit that morning, he had claimed the tracksuit would be super comfy for traveling.
He had conveniently left out the fact he planned to do dirty things to me, and this outfit would give him the easiest access with its borderline embarrassing lack of life left in the elastic band of the pants.
And yes, he definitely planned ahead.
This wasn’t spontaneous.
Bash had chosen my outfit, taken time to think about where to sit, and how he could get away with his hands on me with no one seeing. In his meticulous—borderline overthinking—way, he found a way for us to connect during a hectic travel day.
This deliberate rendezvous was just as sexy as a spontaneous one. It meant he cared enough to plan. That I was on his mind just as much as he was on mine.
He pulled me out of my thoughts with a hand on my thigh. “Everything okay?”
I nodded, and he rolled his lower lip between his teeth.
The movement—a sign he was losing his composure—had me growing hotter and wetter, hoping he would let go a little and give me some relief.
“Here.” He bent forward with a soft grunt as he popped out the footstool from beneath the seat in front of me.
I had never been on such a nice plane. There were benefits to working for a professional hockey team. Propping my feet on the footrest, I instantly saw that his chivalry was rooted in practicality. The tilt of my hips spread me open better than if my feet were resting on the ground.
Anticipation curled inside my belly, and I leaned closer to Bash, my eyes searching his.
“Soon, Em. Soon,” he whispered.
We sat back while the plane took off, but the moment it was obvious the rest of the team was engrossed in other things, Bash’s hand slid under the blanket.
My breath caught in my throat, and he smirked, dropping his mouth to my ear. “You’re going to be quiet for me. Okay, Em?”
I nodded, doing my best to keep my face straight as he bypassed the weak elastic and palmed me over my panties. I shifted, pressing hard against him.
“If we were alone, I’d kiss you here.” His breath traveled over my neck, and I imagined his lips there, holding in a moan. “And here.” His breath trailed along my jaw, and I squirmed, pushing even harder against his hand.
His lips quirked into an enchanting smile, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he slid my panties to one side and skimmed his finger over my clit.
These whispers were killing me. I needed relief. I needed the pressure he could give me.
My breathing was ragged as he played me open, slipping one of his deliciously warm fingers inside. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop any noise from coming out of me. The pressure I had desperately needed was so deliciously heavy that I wasn’t sure I could breathe through the pleasure building in me.
“You’re so wet for me, Em.” His whisper sent shivers down my arm and I held my breath, afraid of crying out as his thumb pressed my clit.
He had me on edge, strumming inside of me in long, delicious strokes, knowing the places that would send me over the edge as soon as he moved a little faster.
His coordination was off the charts as he stroked me inside and tapped my clit. Literally tapped. Like he was trying to tell me something through Morse Code. As soon as the tapping got me close, he circled my clit, sending licks of heat through my core, giving me a second finger as I bit my lower lip and squirmed closer.
His eyes locked on mine and the intimacy sent me over the edge. “Quiet, sweetheart.”
I could barely make out his voice above the throbbing pulse of my climax rushing through me, but I obeyed.
I listened to him, murmuring as if we were simply carrying on a conversation as I rode the high of his fingers as they extracted the last pulses of pleasure from me. I played along, nodding like I knew what he was saying.
“Good girl,” he murmured and my body buzzed, loving that I pleased him.
