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“Yes.”
I feel the heat of her gaze on the side of my face where she’s turned toward me in her seat.
“I’m setting Liv up with David. I think they’ll really hit it off.”
I drop my hand away from my laptop and turn toward her. “David?”
“I wasn’t flirting with him,” she whispers theatrically, looking increasingly out of it as her brows fly up her forehead. “I don’t want to have sex with him.”
“I see.”
“But Liv will. She’ll want to climb him like a tree.”
I turn my attention back to my work. “Okay.”
“Do you know what guys ask me the most?”
I sigh and turn to face her again.
“They ask if my hair down there matches my head.”
My gaze falls to the apex of her thighs.
“It kind of does when I have some. But it’s bare at the moment. Completely naked. Sometimes, I have a strip there, you know, in the middle. Right here.” She draws a line over the seam of her leggings.
I swallow as her pale pink fingernail slides up and down over herself.
“A landing strip…. Oh my god, like planes, get it?”
She laughs loudly, attracting the attention of the flight attendant.
“Everything okay, Mr. Grant. Does your companion need anything?”
“She’s fine,” I grumble as Ava hums to herself, twirling her fingers in the air.
“Okay,” the flight attendant says, not sounding convinced.
Ava leans over and grabs the flight attendant’s wrist, her voice serious. “I’ve never orgasmed from penetrative sex. Have you? Please tell me it’s possible.”
Jesus Christ.
“Maybe another water,” I say, extracting her hand and holding it in mine so she doesn’t grab the flight attendant again.
“Of course, Mr. Grant.”
Ava looks at me with a dopey expression, her eyes hooded. “I love grapefruit juice.”
“I know.”
She rests her head against my shoulder.
“You don’t like it.”
“No, I don’t.”
“But you drank mine.” She yawns, nuzzling into my bicep.
“I did.”
