Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
She made her way forward and disappeared behind the galley wall. I shot Locke a look.
“What?” he asked.
I tilted my chin in the flight attendant’s direction, then toward him, before lifting my eyebrows in question. You and her?
His forehead crinkled in confusion before smoothing. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“What? Why is that ridiculous?” I lowered my voice. “She’s beautiful.”
He nodded and responded in the same lowered voice. “Yes. She is. She’s also married to one of my pilots. And even if she wasn’t, I don’t fuck around with my employees.”
I lifted my eyebrow again and grinned. “Aren’t I one of your employees?”
He narrowed his eyes at me and gave me a slow up-down, which made his eyes darken. Then he turned back to the laptop, muttering, “Regrettably.”
I snorted a laugh and glanced out the window at the ocean visible below us. The sun sparkled off the water in a blurry haze, making it look warmer than it was. We’d left the city on a beautiful, clear day, but it had still been cold as fuck. Thankfully, the forecast for Maiori was sun-warm and clear. Exactly what I needed.
“Surely you can find a way to occupy yourself,” Locke said.
“Was I complaining?”
“You’re fidgeting.”
I studied him, unreasonably entertained by the fact that he was so aware of me. “Maybe I’m pent-up.”
His eyes lifted from his screen again to pin me in place. “Maybe you need to go take care of that in private.”
I grinned. “Maybe I could help you while helping myself.”
The stern look on his face didn’t change, but the skin above his collar turned pink. Bingo.
His voice was slow and deliberate. “Maybe you need to stop distracting me and let me work.”
I shrugged and stood up, making a production of stretching so that my shirt rode up right at his eye level. He tried not to look.
He failed.
“Okay, then,” I said cheerfully before heading back to the rear lavatory.
Before I got there, I heard the door to the rear section of the plane close behind me.
I turned to find Locke standing inside the closed door with his arms crossed in front of his chest. This section of the plane had two long sofas on each side that could clearly fold down into a giant bed to make it a bedroom. A stack of luxurious bedding sat neatly folded on one end of the sofa to my right, the sun warming a fat stripe across it.
“Did you need to use the bathroom, too?” I asked innocently.
He didn’t say anything, simply crooked his finger at me and then pointed to the ground at his feet. The muscles in my stomach tightened with heat, and blood pooled low in my groin.
“Oh. You…” I swallowed. “You need a little help after all?”
“Stop talking.”
“Stop fidgeting. Stop talking. So, so bossy,” I said mock-sadly, even as I moved up the aisle to stand in front of him.
His lips were fucking sinful, and I wanted to taste them with my tongue, nip them between my teeth, and suck on them until he made guttural noises.
But that wasn’t what I’d been hired for.
I slowly sank to my knees.
“Good boy.”
Oh dear god.
I glanced up at him, trying to judge if the phrase had been intended to taunt or humiliate me. Locke’s eyes were still heated, and the pink had crawled up his neck to his ears. His cock began tenting the front of his trousers, so I reached out and rubbed my palm across it before testing the shape of it with my fingers.
“I want to make you feel good,” I said softly.
Locke’s fingers moved into my hair. “Then take me out and let me fuck your throat.”
My own dick was impossibly, painfully hard, and my breathing came out in sharp, shallow breaths. I fumbled for his belt and yanked it open, shoving his shirt up and out of the way.
“Easy,” he murmured. “There’s no rush.”
His fingers moved gently in my hair as if learning the feel of it, but as soon as I fished his cock out and put the tip against my lips, his fingers tightened, tilting my head back.
“Let me see you open for me.”
I looked up at him through my lashes and opened my mouth slowly, sticking my tongue out so he could see it wrap around the head of his cock.
“Fuck, that’s good. You want this, don’t you? You want to feel my cock in your mouth. Feel me using your mouth to get off.”
I let my eyes fall closed as I made a sound of agreement and let myself enjoy the clean taste of him, the musky scent of him, and the slight pressure of his hold on my hair.
This was so fucking problematic. I knew it was. Straight assholes like Locke Maris were a dime a dozen, and I’d hooked up with plenty of them. Usually, I didn’t give a fuck how they identified or how much internalized homophobia they were dealing with because I was only in it for a quick release. I wasn’t their fucking therapist, and I’d accepted long ago that the world was full of shitty people whose dick could still give me a killer fucking ride.