Chapter 11 #2
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?
“What would the lovely ladies like us to sing?” Travis asks, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Sweet Home Alabama,” I cry out, slightly tipsy from all the cocktails the air hostess has been serving.
“Anything for my lady,” Travis replies, a soft smile playing on his lips.
They start singing.
It’s fucking bliss.
When the boys join in, I realize they all sound amazing together. The song finishes, and I clap my hands, then press a hand to my heart. “Sing me something, rockstar. Blow my heartstrings to pieces,” I breathe, eyes locked on his.
He winks at me and begins strumming lightly on his guitar.
When he starts singing the song he sang to me on the beach that night, he really does blow my heartstrings to pieces.
It was beautiful then, but with the music, it has the whole plane going silent, staring in awe.
It takes you to another moment, another place, making you forget who’s around when Travis sings like that.
I stare into his eyes as he sings, and it’s at that exact moment I realize I am totally in love with Travis Phoenix.
I have always loved him, of course, but this.
.. this is something else. This is real and deep and has the potential to absolutely destroy me.
His eyes, his gaze, tell me he’s far ahead of me, that I’ve trapped his heart, his soul, and I could break him as quickly as he could break me.
When the song is over, everyone is silent, staring at the eye contact Travis and I didn’t even realize we were making.
Reagan clears her throat, and I spin around to stare at her, blinking to clear my gaze. It feels hazy. Am I crying? I stand, mumbling an apology before dashing into the back room. Reagan knocks on the door a moment later, and I let her in.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her eyes scanning my face.
“Sure, I just needed a minute,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” she smiles, her voice low but gentle.
“Yeah, I think I am. I think this time, it’s real and it’s terrifying.”
“Love is terrifying, but what you have with Travis is worth it. Come on, wipe your eyes, this is a good thing.”
I nod, and she helps me clean up. We walk out, and when we get back to the seats, Travis is sitting and staring out the window. He turns to look at me as I walk past, our eyes meeting for a moment before he pulls out his phone and breaks the moment.
What that tells me is that he’s feeling what I am, and it scares the hell out of him too.