Chapter 36
He’d texted me the time. Told me just to pack for a few days away, he had taken care of the rest. Even arranged with Raymond for me to have a few days off — he’d promised to come in and do an event before the screening of ‘The Way We Move’, exclusive to Figments bookstore.
I had laid out everything. There was just the waiting. The agonizing wait. My knee bounced on the couch as I checked the clock every three minutes. Waiting for his car in the driveway, waiting — and praying — that his presence would calm my nerves.
It wasn’t just the red carpet, or the flight, or going back to pretend… It was sort of… everything? My stomach was doing little flips.
This was huge. The first time I went away with Joel, he’d told me how I would never amount to anything more than a bookseller. Mocked me for my fear of flying. Left me at a restaurant because I took too long.
Shit.
I’d been doing so much better when it came to that. Ansel wasn’t Joel. He’d shown me again and again (and again) that he would not hurt me the way Joel did.
But trauma doesn’t choose how it rears its ugly head, it just does. The anxious knot in my stomach jumped when the doorbell rang.
Ansel stood on the other side of the door, baseball cap backwards, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “This isn’t fair.” I whispered, taking in the sight of him. “You didn’t tell me to dress down for the flight.” I was in a dress with a leather jacket slung over my shoulders.
“You look perfect,” he said with a grin as he took my overnight bag from me. “Ready to go?”
I nodded, hopefully I looked more convincing than I felt.
I’d flown before… I didn’t love it, but I’d manage. We were in first class, another luxury I’d never experienced before.
We were among the first people on the plane…
I was going to be okay.
I could do this.
“Window or aisle?” Ansel asked.
“Oh, uh… I don’t care.”
“Slide in then,” He was carrying all of my bags, hat still backwards. Smile still devastating. After I sat down, he followed, closing a small privacy screen behind us. The seats were comfortable enough. This would be okay.
I’d been on planes before.
Takeoff was rough, but Ansel assured me it would calm down. All the flights were bumpy to begin with, but leveled out.
This flight, though? I was one bad patch of turbulence away from clawing straight through the armrest.
Three hours. Three hours of recycled air and the constant reminder that thousands of feet separated me from solid ground.
My knee bounced restlessly, nails dug into the armrest.
“Junie.” His voice came soft, low, and far too knowing, hand cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed along my cheekbone gently… I might have melted into him, had we been on the ground and not shaking on a metal death trap.
“I’m fine,” I muttered. I wasn’t fine. I was far from it.
Ansel’s other hand slid over mine, warm and steady, stilling my trembling fingers, if only for a moment. “You’re gonna rattle the whole damn plane like that.”
My eyes flicked to him — baseball cap turned backwards and that infuriating grin tugging at his mouth.
“You’re enjoying this,” I hissed.
“Maybe a little,” he said easily. His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “But mostly? I don’t enjoy seeing you wound up.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, voice just for me. “Let me help.”
My stomach flipped. “Ansel—”
But he was already waving down a flight attendant. “My girl is cold; can we get a blanket?” He asked with his charming smile, and she handed him a soft, folded blanket less than a minute later.
My girl.
God, just those two words curled around my ribcage.
With an effortless motion, he draped the blanket over both of our laps, adjusting himself in his seat so he was closer to me.
“Blanket’s right here. Nobody’ll know. You just gotta be quiet for me, sweetheart.”
My eyes widened. “Are you—? No. Absolutely not.”
His grin tilted, slow and lethal. “Junie.”
I shook my head fast, too fast. The idea of him…
Absolutely not.
But his grin… The way his fingers lingered over my skin. What he was suggesting was ludicrous. Indecent.
Illegal.
And yet, he raised an eyebrow at me, wetting his lips. “Come on, kid. Let me calm you down.”
And… God help me, I nodded.
The blanket shifted, casual, innocent — except for the way his hand furthest from me slid up my bare thigh under the hem of my dress.
I gripped the armrest tighter.
“Relax for me.” His breath was warm against my ear. “Just breathe.”
I tried — I really did — but when his fingers traced soft circles higher and higher, my breath hitched audibly. He crept up so slowly, leaving a trail of gooseflesh on my skin. “There,” he was grinning. “Almost there, baby.” His finger brushed against my underwear, and I gasped.
“Shhh,” he pressed against my wetness, and it took all my self-control not to squirm in my seat. “Don’t want anyone to hear. These sounds?” He pressed again, just barely grazing my clit. “Just for me, Juniper. No one else.”
I turned my face toward him, desperate, eyes wide and dark. He looked wrecked — mouth parted, jaw tense, but so in control it made me dizzy. “Say my name,” he coaxed softly, pulling the damp fabric of my underwear aside.
“Ansel—” I gasped, the plane rocking as it hit another air pocket. He drug a knuckle through my slick, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“That’s it,” his voice dropped even lower. “Keep breathing for me, Junie.”
He’d shifted towards me, just a little, pupils blown wide, as he pushed a finger inside of me. “Ansel,” I panted, trying to keep my voice down.
“Good girl,” he mused, curling his finger against my walls. “Stay quiet.” And this thumb — fuck his thumb — pressed against my clit. I wanted to scream, to moan, to writhe under his touch, but I couldn’t.
So I whimpered, softly, pleading for him to keep touching me, with my eyes screwed tight shut, focusing on him and not the jerk of the plane.
The world narrowed to just him — the press of his fingers, his warm, quiet breath against the side of my face, the teasing brush of his lips when a little noise escaped me.
“I’m gonna add another,” he whispered, his own breath a little wrecked as he pulled his finger out of me, just to push two back in. “God, June,” he was whimpering now. “You feel so good.”
My hips bucked without my permission, and a greedy smile took over Ansel’s face. “You gonna come, baby?” He kept moving his fingers inside of me, circling my clit with his thumb. “Just from this? Greedy girl.”
I nodded, furiously.
“Good, let me feel you.” He pressed his lips against my temple. “God, I hope it’s messy.” His hand was moving faster, I could feel my heart beat skyrocketing, threatening to beat out of my chest.
My breathing hitched with the pace of his fingers, the way his hand pushed and brushed and pet. “Come on baby,” He whispered in my ear, “Right now, right here.”
With a final swipe of his thumb, I fell apart. With his… unoccupied hand, he pulled my face towards him, pressing his lips to mine and swallowing my moan whole.
I didn’t think my orgasm was ever going to stop. He continued to rock his fingers into me, continued to press against my clit — I could have sworn he yanked a second climax out of me.
Once my vision finally returned to me and my heartbeat came down, I found him, grinning, as he looked at me. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, withdrawing his hand from underneath the blanket
I sagged back against the seat, heart racing, cheeks flushed. I couldn’t even look at him. Once again, I had let lust get the best of me, let him get the best of me. I kept my eyes trained on my hands, twisted into the blanket, as my heart rate raced beyond reason.
Ansel just leaned back, utterly unbothered, eyes dark and satisfied. “See?” he whispered, smug as hell. “Easiest flight of your life.”
And as I turned to face him, I caught him with his finger in his mouth, making the most obscene show of cleaning himself. “A guy could get addicted, Juniper.”