Page 16 of The Bro-code

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.

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