3. Mile High Trouble
CHAPTER 3
MILE HIGH TROUBLE
BAY
I exhale slowly as I stare at my reflection in the mirror of the first class lounge bathroom.
My face looks flushed, and I will my racing heart to slow its pace. What the fuck just happened?
The breakup with Topher must be messing with me more than I thought; there’s no other explanation. I mean, why else would I react this way to my fingers brushing against some stranger’s?
It doesn’t matter that the stranger in question is hotter every time I look at him.
The second we touched, it was as if there was an invisible line connecting my fingers to all sorts of inappropriate places.
I frown at the way my nipples are visible through my bra and the thin fabric of my silky white shirt.
That wasn’t the only unwanted reaction, though. My panties are wet, and I wish I wore jeans rather than a skirt now. But I hate wearing any kind of tight clothing when I travel, so I guess I need to calm down.
I check the time on my phone and take another deep breath. I better hurry, missing my flight isn’t a good idea, despite how much I’m dreading going back to campus .
Hopefully by now Topher got the hint that I don’t want to talk to him. After leaving Star Cove in a hurry, I turned my phone off for the couple of days it took me to get to Luca’s yacht. When I switched it back on to let Lake know I was safely on the Queen Isabelle, I found two hundred and fifty-eight missed calls from my ex. My voicemail was full, and he had also sent hundreds of text messages and DMs on all my social media.
I blocked him from everything under the sun, obviously.
Perseverance, though, is one of the things Topher and I have in common, so he tried contacting me from other numbers.
In the end, I had no choice but to stay off social media aside from work posts and filtering all phone calls blocking every contact aside from my sponsors, immediate family, and Cole.
In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to see or talk to Topher ever again. But Star Cove isn’t a huge college, and even if it was, being presidents of our Greek chapters means that we’ll have to see each other and talk. Especially because the Zetas and the Gammas are affiliated, and we tend to run a lot of events together.
I’m under no illusion that it is going to be easy. I even thought about giving up my presidency, but why should I? I worked so hard to get where I am, and Topher doesn’t deserve to ruin that for me, too. Hopefully I’ll be surrounded by all my friends, and they’ll help me to keep my interactions with my ex to the bare minimum.
After one last check in the mirror, I exit the bathroom, pleased that boarding is almost complete. All I have to do now is to slip quietly into my first-class seat and hopefully catch up on some sleep.
“Welcome on board, ma’am,” the flight attendant smiles. “Your seat is just on the left.”
I roll my carry-on past the partition that separates the front door and galley area of the aircraft from the first class section, and… you must be shitting me.
My boarding pass is still in my hands, and my gaze drops to it to double check that my seat is in fact one A.
Once I establish that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me earlier, I fix my gaze again on the strapping, tall, annoyingly handsome stranger who’s sitting in my seat as if he had every right to do so.
God, I’m so tired of men behaving like asshats with total impunity. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply to calm down before I open my mouth.
I clear my throat. “You’re in my seat.”
He lifts his ice blue eyes from his phone. “No, I’m not. But nice pick up line.”
The nerve on this guy. “What? Do you think I’m saying this to have an excuse to talk to you?”
The corner of his lips quirks up in a teasing smile. “There’s no other reason why you’d say something that’s obviously false. I’m in my assigned seat.”
My fingers clutch the handle of my carry-on with white knuckle force. It’s either that, or I’ll punch that perfect smile off his face. “Maybe you need glasses or to take extra reading lessons because you’re in one A, and that’s my seat.”
I wave the boarding pass in his face, and he grabs it surprisingly quickly. “Hmm, interesting,” he murmurs. “Why is there lipstick all over it? You can’t even see whose boarding pass this is. Let me?—”
I snatch it from his fingers, before he can clean it up or tamper with it in any way. “Ha, so funny. That happened when you elbowed me earlier. Regardless, now that you know I wasn’t trying to pick you up,” I say with an eye roll. “Can you please go to your seat?”
His smile doesn’t falter. “I can’t, Cinnamon; I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” I ask, my annoyance kicking up a notch at the way his smile widens .
“Because one A is my seat.”
Maybe in retrospect, I shouldn’t have raised my voice. But come on. My nerves are already shot at the thought of going back to campus, and this guy has been in my way since I set foot at the airport. Luigi couldn’t apologize enough for booking my flights with two different airlines, and then there was customs… I’ve had a long day.
“Bull-shit.” I seethe. “You better?—”
“Is there any problem, sir?” The flight attendant from before is standing right behind me.
“Thank goodness,” I exhale, turning to look at her. “This gentleman,” my tone conveys that I think he’s anything but. “Is in my seat, and he won’t move.”
Jet-lag must be messing with me, or I would have noticed the way the flight attendant is batting her eyelashes at Ryker. There’s no way I can win this argument, but I’m too tired and fed up to realize it.
“Ma’am,” the flight attendant’s tone is annoyed, but she’s trying to sound polite. “I personally checked this gentleman’s boarding pass, and I can confirm he’s in his assigned seat.”
Oh my God. Is this really happening?
“You just literally checked mine, too, at the door, not two seconds ago,” my voice goes up a notch. “And my boarding pass says one A.”
The smile fades from the flight attendant’s face. “That’s impossible. Now, if you wouldn’t mind taking your seat, we’ve just closed the aircraft’s doors, and we’re about to commence taxiing to the runway. So please, I need you to find your seat and sit down asap.”
“I found my seat,” I almost yell. “This asshole is in it; that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
I really, really should have known better. A part of me feels really ashamed about raising my voice and swearing in front of someone who’s just trying to do their job. But this guy… God .
“Ma’am,” the flight attendant’s tone totally changes. “Swearing and disorderly behavior won’t be tolerated on my aircraft. I suggest you calm down or you’ll leave me no choice but to inform the captain and return to the gate, where you’ll be met by the police. That would result in a delay that will cost the airline thousands of dollars. We’ve recently begun taking people to court to pay that money back when delays are the direct result of disruptive behavior.”
Fuck me.
This is a nightmare. “Look, I’m sorry, but?—”
“Cinnamon is right,” Ryker intervenes. “There must be some kind of mistake because her boarding pass says one A, but so does mine.”
He passes his own boarding pass to the flight attendant.
“Huh,” the lady frowns. “This is odd. Let me check my manifest, and let’s find this lady’s seat.”
The fact that she assumes that I’m in the wrong seat annoys me to no end, but after the last exchange I had with her, I keep my mouth shut. Tomorrow is moving in day for last year’s sophomores, who now, as juniors, get the right to live in the Zeta house; as the sorority president, I need to be there to welcome them.
“Ok,” the cabin crew says. “There must have been a misprint or some kind of system error. My manifest has Mr. Moore in one A and a Miss Woods in two A. So ma’am, this is your assigned seat.” She points at the seat next to Ryker’s with a flourish.
I don’t miss the satisfied smile on her face, no doubt at the fact that I was wrong.
“But I need to sleep, I need a window seat, I?—”
The crew’s smile disappears. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The flight is fully booked. To the point that we’ve upgraded several passengers to first class,” she points toward all the other pods, occupied by the soldiers who stormed the lounge not long ago. “This is the only seat we have today. ”
God, give me strength. I know in the grand scheme of things, it is a small inconvenience. Those pods are comfortable, and the seats go all the way down, almost turning into beds.
But a window seat always seems to provide some extra privacy, and I was glad Luigi took that into account when he had reservations made.
“I always book the window,” Ryker rises from his seat. Jeez, he’s so tall and his shoulders are so big, they make the aircraft cabin look much more confined. “But if the window seat is so important to you, I don’t mind swapping.”
As if the offer had been made to the flight attendant, she squeals in delight. “Oh sir, that’s so kind of you,” her hands are on her chest in surprise as if Ryker had just rescued a puppy from a ditch or something. “Now, ma’am, I must ask you to take your seat. We’re going to take off as soon as I inform the captain that the cabin is secure, and you’re the only one who isn’t seated.”
I don’t even try to hide my eye roll at her back as she goes back to her station.
“Let me help with your bag, Cinnamon.” Ryker offers as he moves to vacate his seat.
“I can manage to store my luggage by myself.” I bite out, demonstrating that I’m not some damsel who needs the help of the first Neanderthal that crosses her path.
If Neanderthals were as hot as sin, that is.
I shake my head at the voice in my head that sounds a lot like my twin sister, Lakyn.
As the flight attendant reminds us to fasten our seatbelts in preparation for takeoff, I feel observed. “Yes?” I ask, finding Ryker’s ice blue gaze on me. “What do you want?”
That barely there, sardonic smile makes an appearance. “I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘why, thank you, Ryker.’ ”
I know he’s right. He didn’t have to give up his seat for me.
And yet… call it pent-up frustration for the anger I’ve been holding onto for the entire summer. Call it retribution for the less than stellar interactions between us from the moment he ruined my makeup at the check-in desk; I act like a total bitch.
Maybe it’s the frustration stemming from the lack of closure after I narrowly missed my ex’s head with that trophy; maybe it’s because, deep down, I felt an immediate attraction to Ryker, to the point that every time his eyes land on me, I feel the air between us crackling with electricity, but I can’t stop myself.
The worst part is that I know how childish and rude I sound when the words leave my mouth. “The way I see it, you owe me a cinnamon roll. So I guess we’re even.”
I almost want him to say something rude or aggressive, so I can keep arguing with him.
Instead, he smiles, making my pulse quicken with an equal mixture of fury and lust.
“I suppose you’re right,” he concedes, those blue eyes refusing to leave mine. “But since the ice has been broken, I don’t suppose I earned the privilege of you telling me your name?”
I’d say he definitely has, but again, the urge to keep antagonizing him is too strong to resist. “Ha. Not even close.”
To my chagrin, he looks more amused than pissed off. “Is this how you want to play it? Fine by me. I have five and a half hours to wear you down. By the time we get to Star Cove, I’ll have you eating out of the palm of my hand, Cinnamon.”
I make my most disgusted face. “Eww. I don’t even want to think about how unsanitary that sounds. And why the heck do you keep saying Cinnamon? ”
“Since you refuse to tell me your name, that’s how I refer to you.”
If he couldn’t look anymore annoyingly handsome, he winks.
Fuck this.
My response is to free my hair from its tight ponytail, open the night kit in my seat pocket, and to don the eye mask in it. “Whatever. Good night.”
RYKER
What’s wrong with women these days that they don’t appreciate a chivalrous gesture?
Cinnamon covers her gorgeous eyes with the airline’s eye mask and is fast asleep by the time the seatbelt sign is turned off.
She all but brushed off the fact that I gave her my seat when I really didn’t have to and now is sleeping with her long blonde hair fanned out on the airline’s pillow and her delicate, perfectly manicured hands resting peacefully right under the swell of her perfect tits.
I can’t take my eyes off of her, and I can’t help the thought that comes to my mind. She looks like a Disney princess, waiting for her Prince Charming to come to wake her from her slumber.
If I were her Prince Charming, I know exactly how I’d wake her, and let me tell you, I’d corrupt the hell out of her.
Cinnamon doesn’t even wake up when dinner is served. The first class menu tonight offers filet mignon with roasted asparagus and a cheese and herbs potato fondant.
Dessert is a chocolate fudge brownie, and since my favorite travel companion doesn’t wake up, the flirty flight attendant offers me seconds. Don’t mind if I do .
With the intense conditioning the Heroes athletic team put me through this summer, I’m definitely not watching my figure.
After browsing through the inflight entertainment selection, I can’t settle on anything to watch. My attention is more often than not stolen by the way Cinnamon’s pouty lips flutter in her sleep from time to time; it’s as if she was whispering a secret, and I would love to catch whatever it is. She intrigues me that much.
After the dinner dishes are cleared up, the crew dims the cabin lights. We have to report to the ice rink to meet Coach Harrison tomorrow morning at eight am sharp, so I think I’ll take a page from Cinnamon’s book and take a cat nap.
I’ll get her to tell me her name before we land; that’s my resolution before I cover my eyes with the sleep mask in my kit.
My preference, of course, would be to get her to follow me to the bathroom, lock the door, and get her to scream my name instead. Who knows, maybe I’ll have the chance to see her again if Star Cove is her destination and not just a stopover.
The cabin is dark and silent.
Even the rowdy soldiers who got the upgrade are all either fast asleep or watching movies quietly.
I’m the only one who can’t sleep because of her.
I’ve never had any trouble getting women to notice me. The only reason why I’ve never had a girlfriend after sophomore year in high school is because I don’t want one. Hookups, however? Let’s just say that while I don’t kiss and tell, my skills on the ice aren’t the only ones I’ll be remembered for in Hemlock Grove.
I take my mask off and accept defeat; I’m not gonna be able to sleep.
Not when there’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen asleep just mere inches away from me .
The way her chest rises and falls is mesmerizing, and… hold on a sec, are her nipples hard?
My fingers reach to turn on the night light above my seat without me even thinking and yup. Her nipples are poking underneath the thin, silky fabric of her shirt.
I don’t even realize that I’m holding the armrests of my seat with white knuckle force to fight the urge to touch her. All I want is to rub my palms over her nipples, to cup those tits and find out if they’re as perky and firm as they look.
Of course, I would never do anything like that. It doesn’t matter how attractive I find her; she’s a stranger and touching her would be sexual assault.
A man can dream, though, and if she gave me permission, if she asked me to touch her?
Fuck.
Now her nipples aren’t the only thing that’s hard and standing at attention.
My cock is straining against my jeans, and it has a pulse of its own, I fucking swear.
I contemplate the idea of sneaking into the bathroom to take care of myself, but who the fuck does that?
I mean, joining the Mile High Club by taking a hot passenger or one of the cute flight attendants to the toilet is one thing, but rubbing one out? That somehow feels lame and way higher on the weird scale.
Cinnamon stirs in her sleep; her lips moving again as she murmurs something I can’t quite understand.
A lock of hair slips onto her face, brushing against her lips, and I don’t even think about what I’m doing; how unwanted my touch could be. I reach out to brush her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear as gently as I can as to not wake her up.
She squirms.
My eyes track the way her chest pushes against the thin fabric of her shirt as the movement causes the airline blanket to slide down.
A soft sigh escapes from her lips, and what that sound does to me is almost embarrassing. I can’t control the urge to touch her again, but this feels wrong, so I opt for the next best thing. I pick up the blanket pooled at her waist and cover her chest.
That’s what wakes her up.
I back out of her space as she lifts the sleep mask from her face, but I’m not fast enough. She sees I was in her space.
“I’m sorry; your blanket slipped off, and you looked… cold.” My eyes slide down to her tits of their own volition.
Real smooth, Ryker.
I brace myself for her reaction. Is she going to punch me in the face—she’s definitely feisty enough—or scream murder and alert the crew?
To my surprise, her blue eyes stay on mine. Her gaze is so intense, that it’s my turn to squirm.
“Thank you. I woke up because you smell… good.”
“Do I?”
She nods. “I think you and I got off on the wrong foot, Ryker.”
The sound of my name on her lips… man, it goes straight to my cock. I thank the aviation gods that I’m sitting down and that the lights are still dimmed.
“I’m sorry for the lipstick incident and for the cinnamon roll, I ? —”
“Thank you for giving up your seat for me,” she whispers. “You didn’t have to.”
Her manicured fingers trace the collar of my t-shirt in a barely there touch and I fucking snap.
I lunge forward before I can talk myself out of it, and touch my lips to hers.
Again, she could back away. She could scream murder. She could tell me to fuck off.
Instead, she kisses me back.
It’s a little tentative at first, as if she couldn’t believe what she’s doing, but when I nip at her plump bottom lip, I know she’s all in.
Her lips part to allow me in, and it’s all the invitation I need to slip my tongue into her mouth .
The kiss that follows is pure fire, but I didn’t expect anything else from her. We devour each other in a battle of lips, tongues, and teeth.
Her hands are on my chest, and one of mine is tangled in her soft, blonde hair. It’s even silkier and softer than I imagined.
I want to pull her up on my lap, skim my hands over the delicious curves of her perfect body. I want to feel her skin under my fingers, find out if it’s as soft as I think.
But fuck, there’s this stupid pod between us, and the armrest of the seat is in my way. I’m seconds away from ripping the entire fucking thing off so I can drag her into my arms when she breaks the kiss.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” she pants, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “By the look of it, you need it, too.” Her eyes go from my face all the way down between my legs and that’s when I catch her drift.
Fuck, yeah.
Mile High Club, here we come. Quite literally, if things progress the way I hope.
“Yeah, I need to go, too.” I swallow, waiting for her reaction.
“Follow me in about three or four minutes, so it isn’t too obvious,” she says, undoing her seatbelt. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”
Fuck, yeah.
As I watch her perfect ass as she walks away, I thank every lucky star and supernatural entity that might have helped to make this happen. I swear I’ll never ask for anything ever again. Well, aside for winning the Stanley Cup; that has been my dream since I was five.
I watch the time on my phone and at four minutes, I casually walk to the front of the cabin and open the door Cinnamon left unlocked like she promised.
The second I lock the door behind me, she pulls on my t-shirt.
Our lips are fused together within seconds, and this time, my hands have free roam of her out of this world body .
“Ryker,” she moans as I cup her tits, sliding my fingers into her bra and pinching her little, taut nipples.
The sound of my name on her lips is like a shot of electricity that from my balls travels to my cock.
I pick her up, turning us so that her back is pinned against the bathroom door. She’s as light as a feather and so fucking soft.
I keep her balanced with one hand under her ass while I use my other hand to lift her skirt over her shapely hips.
“Thank fuck you didn’t wear jeans; it would have made this so much harder.” I growl, pushing her panties to the side and finding her bare, soaking wet skin.
“I never do. I hate tight clothes when I fly.”
Her fingers aren’t idle as she crushes my lips with hers. She opens my jeans, pulling me out, hard and ready for her.
I lift her just a little, lining myself up with her entrance. “Ready?” I ask. “I can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”
“Fuck me, Ryker,” she begs, and I don’t make her ask twice.
I plunge into her, not stopping until I’m buried to the hilt.
She’s so soft and tight that I know this isn’t going to last very long. I guess it’s good since we’re on an aircraft, and I know for a fact the crew can open these bathrooms from outside.
“Fuck,” I growl, grinding against her.
“Yes, please don’t stop.”
I thrust into her again and again, my cock already pulsing, aching for release.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, not until I hear you scream my name.”
“Ryker, Ryker.” She screams, her inner walls contracting around me, squeezing my shaft in the wettest, tightest embrace of my life.
I’m seconds away from coming, and that’s when it hits me that I didn’t put on a condom.
But I’m too far gone to care. Besides, condoms don’t really matter during a dream, right?
“Ryker, Ryker. Wake up. ”
Cinnamon’s annoyed voice shakes me awake in the semi obscurity of the aircraft’s cabin.
BAY
“Ryker, Ryker. Wake up.”
Maybe I should have let him sleep, but I was having the craziest, naughtiest dream ever—Ryker might or might not have been in it—and now I have to go to the bathroom.
“Uh? Where am I?”
I fight the urge to raise my voice, but everyone around us is still fast asleep. “We’re on a flight to California, and you got a little too… comfortable.” I say, trying to sound annoyed as I’m captive of those ice blue eyes.
“Oh, shit,” he finally realizes that he invaded my space as he fell asleep, and his head is still resting on my chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
I do my best to look annoyed and mildly outraged as he straightens up, running one big hand through his mussed hair. He has no business looking so good with his hair sticking out in every direction. Life is unfair sometimes.
The truth is that I miss the feeling of his head on my chest and his spicy, masculine scent.
Obviously, there’s no way I’d ever admit that. Not even under torture.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” I blurt out, undoing my seatbelt. I don’t really have to pee, but the dream I was having was so hot that my panties are literally soaked. I need to wipe down there and compose myself before I can be in Ryker’s presence.
“Cinnamon, wait,” he covers my hand with his on the armrest.
I gasp, probably sounding annoyed when in reality the contact with his warm, slightly rough palm does nothing to help the situation in my panties.
My nipples are hard and achy too and I thank God that the lights are still dimmed in the cabin.
“I’m sorry for the lipstick incident and for the cinnamon roll, I?—”
“Thank you for giving up your seat for me,” I whisper, immediately regretting it. “You didn’t have to.”
It’s the truth though, the seat was his and he didn’t have to let me have it.
His fingers stroke my knuckles in a gesture that suggests way more intimacy than there should be between us, since we don’t know each other.
“If I’m forgiven, could you tell me your name?” he asks with a hopeful smile that makes him look adorable.
So adorable that I almost cave. “If you continue to be nice to me for the rest of the flight,” I smirk, getting up. “We’ll see.”
I walk away on shaky legs, relieved to be far from this sexy, confusing stranger.
“Holy shit,” I sigh, looking at my flushed cheeks in the bathroom mirror.
This is the second time this guy’s touch affects me more than Topher’s persistent efforts have done in two years of dating.
I shake my head, willing to banish the thought of my ex.
I know he’ll want to talk, and for as much as I don’t want to, maybe I shouldn’t avoid it.
What I should do is take my sister Lakyn as an example. Despite my more outgoing personality, she was always the bravest one between us. She would always rip Bandaids off for me, saving me from peeling them off slowly, causing more pain.
Yeah, maybe I should talk to Topher just once and tell him clearly that there’s no way to talk himself out from our last interaction.
I knew when I wanted to confront him about what he did to Lakyn with that disgusting dare, he would lie through his teeth to spin the situation under a better light. I’ve been on the receiving end of that behavior so many times and I always let him convince me that I was overreacting if I was mad at him.
I’m done being gaslit though. There’s no coming back from fucking a puck bunny in my bed.
The bathroom door opens, pulling me out of my reveries. “Hey, that was locked.” I say, surprised when Ryker comes into the small room, locking the door behind himself.
“I know,” those intense blue eyes are fixed on me, skimming the length of my body in a way that makes me feel naked.
Not in an embarrassing way either, in an excited way.
I blame it on that crazy dream.
“The latch on the door can be opened from the outside. It’s one of the worst kept secrets between flight attendants.”
I don’t even want to ask him how he knows. I’m under no illusion that a hot looking guy like Ryker turns heads everywhere he goes. The flight attendant on our flight was ready to kick me out of the plane for being rude to Ryker, and probably to sit on his lap, by the way she was flirting with him.
“I don’t care if the door can be opened from outside,” I bite out. “I was here first. Wait for your turn and get out.”
Rather than doing as he’s told, Ryker takes a step closer, which in the tiny bathroom means our chests are touching and the backs of my knees are in contact with the aircraft’s toilet.
“I don’t have to use the bathroom.”
“Well then,” I snap. “Get the fuck out.”
His hand comes to cup my jaw, his warm, minty breath fanning on my lips. “I could get out,” he murmurs. “Or I could do what I came here to do.”
“A—and what’s that?” My voice trembles, my chest heaving as if I’d been running.
“I know I’m not the only one who feels this,” he says. “Who feels this crazy, strong as hell attraction between us.”
God, he’s right.
I hate to admit it but it’s like the air crackles with electricity every time we look at each other.
I don’t trust myself to say anything, so I just nod.
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, Cinnamon. And I’ll offer you a deal.”
“What—what’s that?” I whisper.
“If I can get you to scream my name before someone comes to either use the bathroom or check on us, you’ll tell me yours.”
The way I see it, it’s a win-win situation.
I’ll let this play out and then, when he realizes there’s no way in hell he’ll give me an orgasm, I’ll walk away victorious and not tell him my name.
It might be a hollow victory, but I guess for once, I should take one page from my own book.
I told Lake she needed a rebound when Dipshit dumped her and maybe, I need one too.
“Show me what you can do, then.” I challenge him.
Ryker is immediately on me, but to my disappointment, his lips don’t connect with mine.
They glide down the column of my neck, warm, wet, impossibly soft as his big hands cup and squeeze both my breasts.
“Oh,” I gasp when my body reacts with a throb so violent, I visibly shudder.
The space between my legs is on fire in the best way possible, way more than I’ve ever been even when I had sex with the only two guys I’ve ever slept with .
“Fuck,” Ryker grunts, nipping at a sensitive spot right at the base of my neck. “If I touch you, will I find you as wet as I’m hard?”
He punctuates the question with a thrust of his hips that gives me irrefutable evidence that Ryker is telling the truth. He’s rock hard.
“Why don’t you find out?” I provoke him.
He doesn’t disappoint me. His thick, long fingers push the fabric of my panties to the side and run up the length of my slit, parting the skin to feel me up.
He lets out a string of curses. “You’re fucking soaked.”
His fingers find my most sensitive spot, the one that’s aching for his touch. The spot that always lets me down, no matter what I or my partner do.
“I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard,” Ryker promises, his lips gliding up and down my neck. “Faster than when I skate toward the other team’s goal on a breakaway.”
Have you ever felt like someone hosed you down with ice cold water?
That’s the feeling that descends on me at his last words. This can’t be.
“Skate? Breakaway? Are you…” I pant, struggling to push him away in the confined space of the bathroom. “Are you a hockey player?”
He tries to pull me closer again, his touch so inviting and yet so wrong. “Yeah, I’m a center. Why?”
I push against his chest with both hands. This isn’t fucking happening. “I’m sorry, Ryker,” I pant, as dread makes goosebumps erupt on my skin. “I can’t do this.”
Of course he doesn’t understand. “Why not? Did I do anything wrong? If so, I’m sorry.”
Yeah, he doesn’t have the slightest clue. I wish he’d said anything else. Mentioned a touchdown or a home run. A slam dunk would’ve been more than fine, for fuck’s sake .
But after what I’ve been through, I’m sticking to my resolution. No more hockey players. Like, ever.
“I have to go.” Panic is rising, making my throat feel hot and scratchy. “Please, Ryker, move.”
He shakes his head, crossing his powerful arms over his chest. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong. You don’t want to hook up? Fine. But I think I deserve an explanation and the opportunity to fix whatever I’ve done wrong.”
Ha. For that, he’d need a time machine and go back to the day he put on hockey skates for the first time. And choose another sport.
I have no intention of telling a stranger about my cheating ex-boyfriend. About how a lot of the hockey players I’m constantly around, go from one puck bunny to the other. Lake found the only three good ones. I found her the only three good ones. I’m not a puck bunny and my experience with dating hockey players begins and ends with Topher.
“I—”
A chime sounds in the little cubicle, the seatbelt sign lights up followed by an announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re starting our descent toward Star Cove airport. The captain has turned on the seatbelt sign in preparation for landing. We kindly ask you to return to your seat and make sure to have your seat belt fastened, the table stowed, armrest down and your seat upright…”
Saved by the bell.
“We need to go sit down.” Ryker is the only thing between me and the bathroom door.
“Fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”
The fuck it isn’t.
I follow him out of the bathroom, oblivious to the way the cabin crew looks at me, probably imagining what almost happened in there.
Rather than going to sit down, I walk a couple of rows down .
“If you swap seats with me for landing, I’ll give you fifty bucks.” I offer to the soldier who is just putting away his pillow and blanket. I think it’s the same guy who stole the cinnamon roll, but right now it doesn’t matter.
Thankfully the guy grabs the dollar bills in my hand. “Sure, gorgeous.”
As I get ready for landing, I’m vaguely aware of Ryker’s annoyed voice as he argues with the cabin crew and he’s ordered to sit down or else.
I tune him out, staring at Star Cove’s lights becoming closer and closer beneath us.
My body is still humming with residual excitement from the almost encounter with Ryker, but I ignore it.
I almost made a mistake tonight.
This year, there’s no room for mistakes. I need to get my degree, apply to grad school and continue to grow my business.
I’m not interested in men. The last thing I need is another hockey player to break my heart.
This year I need to keep my eyes on the prize. My mind is made up, I’m going to eat, breathe and sleep school and business.