Chapter 2 #2
Alcohol burned through my veins. My rationality was crumbling piece by piece.
Just then, the plane jolted hard, hitting a strong patch of turbulence.
"Shit!" I snapped back to reality with a gasp, nearly spilling my champagne.
He reacted instantly, his large hand shooting out to grab my wrist and steady my glass. "Don't panic. Just turbulence."
The plane shook for only a moment before smoothing out again.
But his hand remained wrapped around my wrist. His thumb gently traced where my pulse throbbed.
That rough, burning touch made my heartbeat skip.
The captain's voice came over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've cleared the turbulence. You're free to use the lavatories, but for your safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened when seated. Thank you."
"Go clean up in the bathroom." His voice was even rougher now, his gaze deep enough to drown in.
He finally released my wrist.
I pulled my hand back, face flushed, but that burning sensation lingered on my skin.
That look.
God.
He wanted to devour me whole.
And I—
I wanted it too.
The thought struck like lightning.
I was still hungover.
I'd just been dumped by my fiancé.
I'd spent twelve hundred dollars on this first-class seat.
The man beside me was a complete stranger I'd known for less than two hours.
And I wanted to kiss him.
Insane.
I must be insane.
But I was already standing.
When I passed in front of him, I didn't try to avoid contact like before. I looked straight into his eyes, then moved with excruciating slowness, deliberately letting my knee graze against his suit pants.
I watched his Adam's apple bob hard, his fingers on the armrest suddenly clenching until his knuckles went white.
"I'll be waiting for you in the bathroom." I lowered my voice to a whisper only we could hear.
I turned and walked toward the first-class lavatory, my heart pounding so hard it threatened to burst through my ribs. Was I crazy? Had I really just invited a complete stranger like that?
But that man's gaze kept replaying in my head.
No.
I quickly rejected that thought.
Vivienne, you're not crazy.
You're just done being the good girl who stays quiet, endures everything, and gets thrown away in the end.
I pushed open the bathroom door, closed it behind me, but didn't lock it.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
The door handle turned.
A tall figure slipped inside, the door clicking locked behind him. The cramped space was instantly flooded with his overwhelming presence—cedar and gunpowder.
Before I could speak, he lunged at me like a caged animal finally freed.
One hand locked around the back of my head, the other clamped around my waist like an iron vise, and he slammed me against the mirror above the sink. The cold glass pressed against my back while his chest—scalding, solid as stone—pressed against my front.
"Do you have any idea what you just started?" he growled through clenched teeth, his nose almost touching mine, his burning breath spilling across my lips.
"So what—do you like it?" I met his gaze without backing down, grabbed his tie, and yanked him down hard.
He crushed his mouth to mine. This wasn't a kiss—it was an invasion, a war.
His tongue forced past my teeth with brutal possession and greedy demand, claiming every inch of my mouth.
He kissed me until I couldn't breathe, until my knees buckled, until all I could do was cling desperately to his broad shoulders.
His hands moved with urgent purpose, fingers deftly working open the buttons of my blouse until cool air brushed over my heated skin.
He pushed the fabric aside along with my bra, baring me to him.
His mouth broke from mine, trailing a scorching path down my neck and across my collarbone before closing over one sensitive peak.
The wet heat of his tongue and the firm pull of his lips sent sharp sparks of pleasure racing through me, making my breath hitch and my thoughts scatter.
I arched into him, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—this man who seemed determined to consume me completely.
At the same time, his other hand slid beneath my skirt, pushing the fabric higher.
His fingers found their way between my thighs, stroking and pressing inside with deliberate care, stretching and preparing me.
The sensation was almost too much—intimate, insistent, building a deep, throbbing ache low in my belly.
My legs trembled violently beneath me, threatening to give out as waves of dizzying need washed over me.
He sensed it immediately. With a low growl, he lifted me effortlessly onto the sink counter, the cool surface a stark contrast against my flushed skin.
Our mouths met again in a heated, desperate kiss, tongues tangling as I wrapped my arms around his neck, lost in the taste of him and the overwhelming closeness.
A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment.
"Excuse me? Is everything alright in there?" The flight attendant's concerned voice filtered through. "We've had reports of some noise. Do you need any help?"