Page 71 of Square Deal

I bit my lip and did as he said.

There I stood, in the middle of a damn airplane. My skirt was around my waist. I was in a pair of fuck-me heels and sheer black stockings. Garters skated up my hips and waist to clasp with the lace bustier that was hidden under my blouse.

And no panties.

How did I get here again?

Isaac let a fleeting smile slip, but quickly buried the emotion. “Bend over,” he clipped. “I want your face in the seat and your ass in the air.”

I turned and rested my forearms in the plush leather cushion. My ankles bobbled when the plane rumbled through a bumpy patch and I bent my knees to steady myself.

Isaac stood behind me. The space between us was electric. I couldn’t see him, but he saw everything. My stockings. The garter straps that ran up my body, disappearing under my clothes. My bare ass. My seeping wet pussy.

He dragged the tip of his finger over the curve of my ass and then nudged my bent knee with his. “Get that ass nice and high for me. Arch your back.”

My face burned hot with embarrassment, but it was no match for the fire blazing inside of me.

I heard the sound of his zipper lowering. The tear of foil. Isaac thrust into my pussy, nearly ramming my head down into the seat. There was no foreplay. No frills. Just dirty, depraved sex.

Neither of us were prepared to last long. Isaac put me on a hair trigger, and it felt damn good knowing I put him just as off balance. In just a few hard pumps, Isaac and I came together.

He walked to the lavatory and disposed of the condom. We traded places and I cleaned up, fixing my hair and adjusting myoutfit. When I returned, Isaac was seated. A tray of assorted pastries and two cups of coffee that looked suspiciously familiar were in front of us.

I sat down, smoothing out my skirt and tucking one ankle behind the other, just like I’d been taught. Isaac handed me one of the coffees and draped his arm around my shoulders.

“Let’s try this again,” he said as he picked up his own cup and took a sip. “Good morning, Hannah Jane.”

I laughed and took a sip. “Good morning, Lawson.” It wasn’t just the latte from Queen’s he provided that soothed my anxiety. The status quo had been maintained. All we needed was a mind-blowing, orgasmic reminder that we were here for carnal desires only.

“How’s your coffee?”

“Perfect. How’d you know what I order?”

Isaac chuckled. “One of the perks of covering your insane caffeine habit is that the baristas know you well enough that when I walked in and asked if they knew what Hannah Jane Hayes usually ordered, they did.” He raised a judgmental eyebrow. “You drinka lotof coffee.”

I ignored the fact that he went to fetch my coffee personally rather than sending his assistant, and crooked my finger, beckoning him to lean down. When he did, I whispered, “Wanna know a secret?”

“Hm?”

“Caffeine keeps me from killing people. My coffee addiction is basically a public service.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

Isaac reached for the almond croissant, but I smacked his hand away. If he got the coffee from Queen’s, there was a pretty good chance that croissant was made by Maddie or one of her minions. They were my favorite.

Isaac wisely chose the blueberry danish.

We ate our breakfast in silence. It was comforting. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been relaxed enough on a date that I didn’t feel the need to fill every moment with conversation, or interrogate the guy to see if he lived up to my standards. Isaac finished off his coffee and thanked the flight attendant when she cleared our dishes.

“Was that my officialWelcome to the Mile High Clubbreakfast?” I said, looking out the window at the endless horizon of fluffy, white clouds.

Isaac laughed. “Why am I not surprised that you haven’t joined the mile high club until now?”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you joined a long time ago.” I looked around the plane. “Do I even want to know how many times you’ve done it in here?”

His smile fell a little bit. Just enough that I knew my comment stung. He licked his lips and laughed it off. “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t talk about my sexual escapades.”

“What should we talk about then?” I asked.

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