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“Feebee, if this plane goes down, a seat belt is unlikely to save you.”
I saw him through a widened view.
“Lie, Mercer. At least lie.”
“I won’t ever lie to you again. But I have every faith in this pilot. He was trained by the best. His family and mine go way back.”
“But the lightning –”
“Won’t damage the plane. It’s built to withstand that kind of thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“I promise you.”
Feeling lighter, I relaxed slightly, trying my best to ignore the next shake of turbulence.
“I’m going to do something. It’ll help take your mind off things.” He stood from his chair, turning to place me in it. The leather was still warm from his body. It was comforting.
“You’re not gonna drug me, right?” I had to ask because it wouldn’t be the first time.
“No.” The sardonic smile was back. “We’re about to join the mile-high club, baby.”
Mercer positioned himself between my legs, careful fingers popping the button on the jeans he’d helped me into this morning.
“You know what...” He typed quickly. “You’d be better on the floor. I want you to feel the vibrations.”
One arm sunk under my legs, the other slinking around my back. He laid me down on a red carpet and pulled off my ankle booties. The lower half of my clothing followed, the jeans were tossed to the side. He kept my underwear in his hand, admiring the lacy thong with the same hunger in his eyes that he had this morning when he insisted I needed help getting dressed.
The look on his face told me I wasn’t getting them back, and the fact that he stuffed them into his pocket emphasized that.
He parted my thighs, and I laughed. His expression changed, and he froze, his gaze on me narrowed.
“Parted thighs for the mile-high.” I laughed again, confident he understood my whacky humor after the months we’d spent together.
With a smile on his face, he widened my legs, letting a chill lick at my pussy before his tongue made contact. He leaned over me, careful with my head, as he pulled off my sweater, leaving me in nothing but a lace bra for a single second. His fingers, skilled in everything they did, disappeared behind me and unclipped the bra, removing it on his first attempt.
I lay fully naked before him.
“What if someone comes in here?” I asked, feeling exposed.
He shook his head, descending on me and placing a single kiss on my lips as a way of shutting me up. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth, requesting access, and I opened for him. Enjoying the feel of his tongue against mine and his hands on my body, fingers digging into the flesh in a way that had my nipples pebbling beneath his touch, made me wish I could wrap my legs around him, do more for him during our intimate moments.
I appreciated that he didn’t share those feelings or voice them, at least, always making me feel like I was enough in the moment.
His mouth left mine, peppering kisses down my throat to my breasts. Sucking one nipple between lush lips, he tweaked the other between dexterous fingers.
My back inched off the floor, and we moaned together.
Through a lazy gaze, I watched him move down my body, his mouth leaving a trail over my naked skin until he settled between my legs, fully clothed.
A power imbalance.
“Take off your clothes, too.” I tugged at the shoulder of his jacket.
“Patience,” he mouthed, showing no patience when he refused to wait for a reply.
The first lick of his tongue was like electricity against my skin, sending little sparks through every last nerve ending.
