Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Why did she have to come again?” I mutter to Travis, casting a glare her way.
He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “I have no idea. Think she’s fucking Marcus. I need her for work, too.”
“Of course,” I huff.
Travis slaps my bottom, shooting me a grin that sends shivers up my spine before walking toward his bandmates at the back of the plane while Reagan and I get comfortable. Reagan leans in, her voice low. “I can’t get enough of him. You’re going to have to live with the fact that I have wicked sex dreams about your boyfriend.”
I shove her playfully, a giggle bubbling up from my throat. “I could give you just a touch of an idea what he’s like in bed.”
Reagan’s eyes widen with excitement. “Do tell, I need some actual visuals.”
I lean in and whisper things in her ear that aren’t fit for nearby ears. She gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth and then bursting into a fit of fanning her face and sighing. “What are you two gossiping about?” I spin around to see Travis leaning against the seat behind us, a devilish grin on his face. My cheeks flush with heat, and Reagan sputters her drink.
“Can we have a little word, baby?” he asks, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down my spine.
Reagan squeaks and claps her hands together.
I grin up at him and stand, following him to the back room of the plane. It’s tiny, barely enough room for two people to sit. He shuts the door behind him and then presses me against the wall, his body hard against mine.
“You ought to be careful talking about me like that,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.
“Oh, well, you shouldn’t be listening,” I whisper, my breath hitching.
“I like to know what you think...”
“Why?” I breathe, biting my lower lip.
“Because it makes me crazy hard,” he growls, thrusting his hips against my pelvis. I groan, my body responding to his touch.
“There’s no room,” I protest.
“Oh baby, we make room,” he insists, his voice a low rasp.
He grips my hips and spins me around, pressing the front of my body into a small gap. My bottom is the only thing exposed, and Travis grips my dress, slowly inching it up. He slides his hand down, squeezing my bottom and growling with satisfaction.
“You are beautiful here...” he murmurs, his voice a velvety caress.
I practically purr, my body melting under his touch. He slides my panties down, kissing my shoulders and sending ripples of excitement up my spine. When he’s free of his pants, he swipes his finger between my folds from behind, coating them in my arousal, and then he’s inside me, deep and hard. I press my hands to the wall, squashed in this space, but nothing matters. His hand curls around the top of my neck and slowly drags down my back, causing me to shiver. He thrusts his hips, not hard because he doesn’t have the room, but that’s okay because I don’t mind it slow like this.
In fact, it’s so fucking hot it makes my knees wobble.
“God damn, you’re so fucking hard,” I whimper, pushing back into him.
“God, baby, I love it when you talk filthy...” he groans, his voice a ragged whisper.
A knock sounds on the door. “Trav?” It’s Marcus.
“Marcus, fuck off, man,” Travis growls, his voice tight.
“Are you getting laid in there?” Marcus yells out, loud enough for the whole plane to hear.
“Fuck off!” Travis snaps.
“Travis is getting laid in the fucking closet! Woooo!” Marcus whoops.
I flush and press my forehead to the wall. “Oh my God.”
“Fuck him. I’m not going to stop,” Travis murmurs, his voice thick.
“Don’t... don’t stop,” I beg, my body aching for more.
He slides in and out faster, not caring if anyone can hear. I’m building higher and higher; he reaches around to stroke my clit, slowly thumbing it until I explode around him. I shudder and cry out as my orgasm rips through me. Travis isn’t far behind, grating out my name as he releases into me, his cock pulsing. When he pulls out and helps me stand straight, I’m a little dizzy.
“You dizzy?” he asks, spinning me to face him.
“A little,” I admit, my voice breathy. “It was an awkward position.”
I offer him a smile.
“Come on, it’s stuffy in here,” he says, doing up his pants. He helps me with my panties, and when we’re straightened up, we step out to a round of cheers. My cheeks blaze as everyone claps and pats Travis on the back. He laughs, that rich, velvety sound, and helps me back to my seat.
We all sit chatting as the flight goes on. At one point, the boys pull out their guitars. I notice Reagan cozying up against Harley, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. I give her a wink—he’s definitely hot. Why the hell wouldn’t she?