Chapter 4
four
. . .
Casting aside his momentary hesitation, Evan slipped into the little galley, where the attendant stood before a wall of locking cubicles, reorganizing a snack and drink cart.
He cleared his throat softly, and she turned. Big, brown eyes drifted down the length of his body as she caught her shimmery pink bottom lip with her teeth. He matched her smile as their gazes met.
A mile-high rendezvous wasn’t on Evan’s bucket list, despite being a frequent flier, but today of all days, he was open to trying new things. The attendant, Hannah, gave him the impression that she possessed some solid negotiating skills, and he was feeling incredibly persuadable.
Lucy running off with someone else had lit the local gossip channels on fire before the hotel staff had even finished clearing guests out of the bar.
Standing in the wreckage of his life, in what had been their home together, Evan’s phone had lit up with one message after another until he’d turned the damned thing off and tossed it into his luggage.
“Something I can help you with, Mr. Westin?”
He wouldn’t be passing up any opportunities to clear his mind—or other body parts.
He dipped his head back toward the restroom doorway. “Hand soap looks a little low.”
“Well, that’s unacceptable.” She grabbed a slender bottle from one of the cupboards and approached him with a slink in her step. “On behalf of the airline, allow me to ensure you’re properly compensated.”
He held open the lavatory door and gave a quick glance over his shoulder, meeting his seatmate’s eyes for the briefest of seconds. Mr. Lennox had serious prude energy, but Evan didn’t take him for a snitch. No one else was paying them any mind, so he followed Hannah inside and locked the door.
She slowly unbuttoned the tight white blouse beneath her uniform vest. Her magnificent breasts spilled over the top of her lacy French lingerie, and his mouth watered. This was already worth the inevitable bruises he’d have from navigating in such tight quarters.
Peppermint flooded his senses as she pushed him against the sink and pressed her mouth to his. Tongue sliding between his lips, she tugged his shirt free from his pants and slipped her hands beneath the gauzy linen with a hum of approval.
“I knew you’d be amazing underneath these clothes.”
Fingertips followed the cut of his abs up to his chest, and the muscles danced beneath her light touch, then clenched as her nails dug into his skin on their way back down to his belt.
He hissed at the burn, an appreciative grunt becoming a muffled laugh of surprise when she attacked the buckle with the same efficiency she’d shown in the pre-flight safety demo.
“No need to rush.”
He tried to stay her hands, but she shook her head and flicked open his fly. Giving her lips a hungry lick, she pressed her palm against the raging hard-on waiting inside and squeezed until he saw stars.
“Davrin can only cover me for a few minutes. You can thank me later.”
He should have warned her there was zero chance of a later, but it was all he could do to stifle his groan of relief and hold himself steady when she dropped into a squat and pulled the aching length of his cock free.
Petal-pink lips curved into a saucy smile, and she met his gaze, swirling her tongue across the tip to lap at the pearls of pre-cum surfacing with every pump of her tight little fist.
Holy shit, it had been a while. A long while.
Lucy had cut him off ages ago. Even after accepting his proposal, she’d still maintained separate rooms, claiming work and planning stress was a mood killer.
He’d believed her, because why wouldn’t he?
She was always either at home or working.
It never occurred to him to question the late nights and business trips, because apparently he was an idiot.
Wherever she and her lover were, he hoped the water gave them the shits.
Maybe he should appreciate that she’d stopped sharing his bed once she’d fallen into someone else’s. Unfortunately, his dick wasn’t one for charity, and his ego refused to thank someone for only mostly fucking him over.
Hannah grabbed his hips and swallowed him to the root with a quiet, heady moan that pulled his full attention back to where it should be.
Why in the hell was he thinking about Lucy when he had a woman on her knees, enthusiastically proving she knew what she was doing?
What he needed to worry about was lasting longer than two seconds and not passing out.
“Holy fuck, that’s good.”
Her unrelenting hold on his hips goaded him into fucking her mouth hard, and she met each thrust with gusto and these tiny whimpers that made his balls spasm.
Owen thought he should stay away from brunettes? He didn’t know what he was missing. Maybe he was being too quick in writing Hannah off. What might she be capable of when time and space weren’t an issue?
“Shit, I’m close,” he warned, head thudding back against the mirror when she sped up instead of backing off.
His cock swelled, dark and glistening with saliva as his balls drew up tight. She uttered a pleased little hum, clearly proud of what she was doing to him, and the vibration made the base of his spine itch.
What a fucking vision. Beautiful tits heaving with every breath. Lips swollen from the thick cock abusing her mouth. Her eyes watered, previously meticulous makeup now staining her cheeks as he dug his fingers into her mass of dark hair and loosed the prim little knot.
He wrapped the ebony waves around his fist to complete the debauched librarian fantasy and thrust harder.
Dopamine-infused ecstasy coursed through his body, and he chased the sensation.
Let it build into an unbearable pressure that surged from his balls to the tip of his dick.
He imagined his orgasm blowing the back off the fucking plane and would have laughed if he’d been capable of drawing enough breath.
At his feet, Hannah made delicious sucking and gagging sounds, her enthusiasm a steady beat alongside the sound of his heart in his ears. She wanted the endgame almost as badly as he did, and it was goddamn intoxicating.
What came next was not him, but a slow-motion catastrophe he expected would be a hilarious story in the future. The very distant future.
In the very immediate present, a sudden sharp and searing pain cut him off at the knees. He lurched forward with a low, agonized groan. Jesus fucking Christ, she’d castrated him.
Confusion warred with nausea.
Hannah toppled backward against the toilet with a startled yelp as the plane rocked and dipped a second time. Evan winced at the impact, but couldn’t let go of his throbbing cock long enough to offer help.
That answered the question he couldn’t gather the wits to ask, because air and space were the immediate priority, neither of which he was getting in this coffin of a bathroom.
He unlocked the door and took a rubber-legged step into the galley. Another pocket of turbulence struck, crashing Hannah into his back. They stumbled, a flailing mass of limbs and four-letter words, and landed strewn upon the floor.
Evan stayed there, crouched on hands and knees. He’d teased the guy next to him about hating flying, yet he was the one who was about to be sick.
“This never happened,” he rasped while struggling to his feet.
“What didn’t?”
Hannah was back at her cart with her hair and uniform in perfect order. Only the makeup still staining her eyes assured him he hadn’t passed out and jerked off in some vivid, bourbon-fueled dream.
She wiped her face clean with a wet cloth and reapplied a touch of lipstick. With a small smile and a quick pat to his shoulder, she pushed the cart forward and disappeared through the curtain.
“Catch your zipper?” his neighbor asked, blue-grey eyes the picture of innocence. He was smirking.
“Ha ha.”
Evan eased gingerly into his seat and glared when Lennox snickered.
“Testy,” he muttered, and Evan glared harder. “Sorry, too soon?”
So he was less of a prude than Evan had first thought. A pleasant surprise.
He still held that Mr. Lennox was a huffy stick-in-the-mud. The way he’d bristled at being teased was proof enough of that. This break in decorum, and his sly little smile, suggested Lennox might have also just surprised himself.
“I’m fine,” Evan lied. The hell he was.
“You’re looking a little green, so I put the extra vomit bags on your side.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Lennox’s trim black brow arched upward as his grin intensified. “I guess you’ve got more to fear on this flight than I do.”
Evan failed to hold back a laugh.
“You’re really pleased with yourself, aren’t you? Did you spend the entire time thinking that up?”
Lennox’s smugness wavered, but he recovered nicely with a pursing of his lips as he turned his nose upward.
“Now who’s easy?”
Evan stopped short of answering, your mother. Not because it was beneath him as a retort, but because a flight attendant who was very much not Hannah appeared, placing a tall glass of bourbon on Evan’s table with a dashing smile.
“I made it a double,” he said, laying out a small cheese tray on Lennox’s side. “Figured you could use it.”
“Davrin, I presume?”
The attendant answered with a wink and a very amused, “Mm-hmm,” and Evan caught the conspiratorial smile he shared with Lennox before sauntering off. Conspiratorial and maybe a little flirty? Oh ho. Did his neighbor have an admirer?
“Still time for you to join the club,” he mumbled as he sought to drown his sorrows. His buzz from before was long gone, and likely not returning no matter how hard he tried, but at least the burn in his chest distracted from the ache between his legs.
Lennox snorted and flicked a dismissive wrist. “No thanks. I’ve already been circumcised.”