Page 12 of Sex, Lust & Lingerie

More semantics.“Don’t try anything.” I spit out the words, unsure if my body’s wants were going to trump my mind’s commands.

“Hands off. I promise.” He raised both hands in surrender.

Still sitting on his lap, I suddenly become aware of the hard bulge that was pressing beneath me. A bolt of lightning flared through my body.

“Um, uh, I think it’s time for me to go back to my seat.” I reached for the seatbelt clasp, but his hand got there first. He held his palm firmly against it, preventing me from undoing it.

“Let me go!” I protested, futilely trying to lift his fingers off the metal fastener. I was seconds away from pounding his chest.

“Look at me, Gloria.” It was one of his bossy commands.

Reluctantly, I met his gaze, melting into it. My heart was galloping.

“Why are you afraid of me, Gloria?”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I blurted.

His brows lifted. “Why do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

“I don’t want to be one of your fuck’em and leave’em conquests.”

His face grew pensive.

“Gloria, you’re different. I’ve told you that. I feel a connection to you that I’ve never felt with anyone before. Why can’t you believe me? Trust me?”

I unconsciously fiddled with his ring. “Because I can’t.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

Because he rouses feelings in me that I’ve never felt before. Emotions and sensations that make me lose myself in him. Because he is making me lose control and fall in love.Fighting the lump forming in my throat, I murmured, “Asshole.”

On my next strangled breath, he released the seatbelt and bounced me up with his powerful legs. “Enjoy the rest of your flight.”

As I got to my feet, I couldn’t help noticing the affronted look on his face. Beneath his steely veneer, there was a layer of vulnerability. As I padded back to my original seat, I glimpsed one of his father’s paintings hanging on the cabin wall. It was a self-portrait of a man who looked a lot like Jaime except his eyes were forlorn, missing life-giving highlights. A reminder. Like father, like son. His mother had left his father and destroyed him. Like me, Jaime was afraid of being hurt. There was no way in hell a relationship could ever work. On a sigh, my heart grew heavy.

I spent the next couple of hours catching up on emails and sales reports, thankful we were cruising smoothly. Occasionally, I glanced at Jaime to see what he was doing. He, too, was engrossed in his work. His long, jean-clad legs were stretched out along the couch. He had kicked off his shoes. There was something about his bare, perfectly formed manly feet that was a total turn-on. My eyes traveled up the length of his muscled limbs, passing over the thickness between his thighs, then across his tight abs and sculpted chest, and then on to his dazzling face. He caught me staring at him, and I immediately turned away. That didn’t stop me from gazing at him again. Every so often, our eyes met. It became a game of timing—who could look away faster. It was hard for me to break eye contact with that distracting, sexy face. I was losing the game.

About two hours into the flight, a delicious lunch of cold poached salmon over a bed of mixed greens was served by another attractive brunette hostess; she could have easily been the sister of the other attendant, and for all I knew, she was. The image of Jaime fucking them both at the same time flickered in my head. A gaggle of arms and legs, moans and shrieks, cries and sighs. I forced it to go away.

Jaime rose and moved over to the dining table.

“Care to join me, Ms. Long?” he asked before plunking down on one of the upholstered chairs. A smug smile played on his face.

So, we were back to formalities and smirks.

I quirked a smirk back at him. “I’m fine where I am.” I set the platter on the arm of my chair and watched as the attendant obsequiously served him. I practically choked as she unfolded a napkin and placed it over his crotch and eyed him flirtatiously. Just his type—a shapely brunette who bore a resemblance to my assistant Vivien. I was positive beyond reasonable doubt she was one of his many fucks, especially by the way she’d eyed me suspiciously from the moment I’d set foot on the plane. A pang of jealousy shot through me. And then I coughed up my wine when Jaime said, “Thanks, babe.” I felt my face redden and my throat constricting. Luckily, I managed to swallow before gagging.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” asked Jaime as he lifted his fork to his mouth. He put a special emphasis on the word “sure” to cajole me. Or should I say, taunt me?

Recovered from nearly choking, I was tempted to join him at the table, just to piss off that obnoxious, flirty flight attendant, but ultimately I declined. With a smug “whatever” expression on his face, he shrugged a shoulder and continued to consume his meal, this time without looking my way once. He was playing me for sure, and I didn’t like it one bit.

After finishing lunch, I decided I’d done enough work and pulled out my Kindle from my bag. I had loaded several erotic romance novels onto it before leaving Los Angeles. I’d known that it was unlikely I’d ever get to them with my hectic New York schedule or during my whirlwind stay in Paris, but now I had an opportunity. Actually, it was more of a need. The need to totally lose myself in a happily ever after fantasy and escape my own uncertain reality and the spell Jaime Zander had on me. Plugged into the sound system, he was back on the couch, sprawled out across it, his shoes kicked off, and his eyes closed. I watched as he rhythmically rocked his head and hips to the music that was obviously piping through his headset. When he began to whistle, I knew what song was making him groove. Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy.” Tingles coursed through my body. My core was aching, pulsing with need. This devastating man was making me crazy. I fought the urge to throw myself on top of him and silence that whistle of his with my mouth. And then really make him crazy. Stop it, Gloria. Read!

As I powered on my device, the plane suddenly dropped. My stomach lurched as my heart leapt to my throat. The captain’s voice filtered into the cabin. “Mr. Zander and Ms. Long, I’m afraid we have run into some unexpected turbulence.”

Turbulence! Nausea rose to my chest at the sound of the word. The plane shook. And so did my hands. The Kindle fell to my lap. I reached for my lunch plate and wine glass to steady them, but not in time. With a shattering crash, they flew to the floor.

“Please be sure your seatbelts are securely fastened,” the captain continued. I quickly glanced down at mine to make sure it was.

Another major jolt. My terror-filled eyes shot over to Jaime. Bolting to an upright position, one word spilled from his mouth.

“Fuck.”

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