8. Brooke
I startle awake and realize my face is mashed into a very expensive suit sitting snug across a very rock-hard chest and a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. Fuck. If that isn’t bad enough, I feel a pool of drool at the corner of my mouth and what I am sure is a damp spot on his suit.
I sit up and try to subtly wipe my mouth, but it’s impossible when he is looking right at me.
“I’m so sorry.”
His expression is unreadable.
And, of course, he doesn’t say anything.
“I must’ve been tired.”
He lifts that sexy eyebrow. “If the snoring was anything to go by.”
My eyes widen. “No!”
“Yes.”
I’m horrified. But then I remember we’ll be landing soon, and I won’t ever have to see him again. I push my hair off my face and settle back into my seat. Maybe I could spend the rest of the flight pretending to read.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I say, as if it matters.
“Relax, you were only out for ten minutes. And only snoring for a couple of minutes. Five at the most.”
My cheeks flush, but I must still be inebriated because I laugh.
“You’re being nice.”
“No, I’m being honest. They’re two very different things.”
“And here I was thinking you were going to be another jerk like the first guy who sat next to me when we first met. But it turns out you’re a nice guy.”
His lips twitch.
“Why does that amuse you?” I ask.
He leans forward and his lips brush my ear as he whispers, “Because I’m not a very nice man.”
His words should be a warning, but the way he says them sends a wave of heat through me.
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” I croak, reaching for the champagne bottle because my throat is suddenly dry.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asks.
I take a hearty mouthful of champagne because I feel caught in his heat. In the intoxicating scent of him. Power. That’s what he smells like. Un-fucking-reachable power. It’s not because of his suit or the powerful body wearing it. And it’s not because of those dark eyes or the strong jaw and the big hands. No, it’s because of the way he moves with absolute confidence, like he is the boss, and no one would dare fuck with him.
He sits back, but his heat still engulfs me.
This is probably his pick-up line. He gets some poor unsuspecting woman all worked up by being all-powerful and mysterious, and then bam, he reels them in for a night of gymnastic sex and orgasms before fleeing into the night, never to be seen again.
Okay, that doesn’t actually sound too bad.
“Does that usually work?” I ask, ignoring the thrum pounding between my thighs.
“Does what work?”
“Being all dark and mysterious and whispering dangerous things into a woman’s ear.”
Again, those perfect lips twitch with amusement. “For what purpose?”
“To get them all excited for you so they’re easy for the picking.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re excited for me?”
“What? No!” Oh hell. “I was saying it came across as a line you might use on women.”
He gives me that confident, close-lipped smile that oozes self-assurance. His eyes gleam through his long lashes, and it’s then I realize I am probably looking at the most handsome man on the planet.
Okay, Brooke, put down the champagne.
Thankfully, the captain interrupts me from thinking anything else stupid. Like how much I’d like to see this man naked.
“This is your captain speaking. We are beginning our descent into New York City and will have you on the ground shortly. Just want to say thank you for flying with us today. We trust you’ve enjoyed your flight and hope you’ll fly with us again.”
Oh, landing.
This is going to be fun.
Reading my body language, Lev says, “Landing is a breeze.”
I grip the armrest again. “Says the man not flying the plane.”
I feel the plane descending and grip the armrest tighter.
Lev leans over. “You’re doing real good.”
I don’t know if it’s the descent of the plane that makes my stomach flip and dip or the fact that Lev’s lips are so close to mine.
“Oh boy…” I whisper breathlessly.
“Hey…” he says, pressing two fingers beneath my chin and turning my face toward his.
The next thing I know, his lips are on mine, and they’re warm and comforting and taste oh so sweet. Our lips part, and his tongue sweeps in, and two fingers turn into two strong hands cupping my jaw. His kiss becomes demanding and heady, and oh my God, this man knows how to kiss.
It’s like he is kissing every cell in my body. Every nerve and fiber dances with pleasure at the sensual, commanding way he moves his mouth over mine.
I groan. Loudly.
Because damn.
The wheels hitting the tarmac barely register, and the rush of the jet engines is nothing compared to the rush I feel inside as he kisses me all through the landing.
It’s not until we’re safely on the ground and taxiing toward the airport that he pulls away and gives me a dark, lustful smile. But he doesn’t say anything. Just sits back in his seat and covers my hand with his.
A hand he doesn’t move even when we’ve stopped, and the seat belt sign turns off.
I turn to look at him, and a pair of midnight-colored eyes gleam back at me.
He grins wickedly. “Need a ride somewhere?”