Page 17 of Inflame

“I prefer the real deal,” I say to her, allowing my eyes to stare a little too long.

She breaks eye contact and dances around like she just won the lottery with her choice of gift. She then digs through her bag of tricks to find a sash for Angie to wear with the label “Bride To Be” plastered across the front. And then I notice the tiny words that parallel—“Same Dick for Life.”

“Are we ready to go now?” Graham asks, tucking his toy into his carry-on luggage. I gave him the hairy one because it looked scarier.

I am sure the workers running the X-ray machines will have a laugh over our contents. Surely, they have seen worse come through their lines. I just hope Vegas can handle these two nutballs. I have my hands full just dealing with the one.

We pull our belongings through the check-in line, handing over our tickets and the luggage that needs to be checked. We get through security without any issues, hop on the tram, and make our way to our gate.

I use the charging dock to top off my phone’s battery and relax into the cushioned chair while I watch the girls chatter about who knows what. I sneak glances at Claire, noticing her light expression is now lined with signs of panic. I watch as she tosses items from her purse onto the empty seat beside her. She must have left something important at home.

“I can’t believe I forgot my medicine. I’m going to get so sick on the plane,” she says to Angie, who is helping her search through the dozen of items she must have deemed as essential enough to pack.

I get up from my seat. “I’m going to go grab a drink and use the restroom,” I say to Graham, who responds with a single nod.

Little convenience shops pop up every few gates, and it is easy for me to spot the medication section to pick up what Claire needs. Nearby, I find a smoothie cafe and get four drinks, all of a different variety. I’m not picky, but I know someone who is. At the checkout, I see individual prepackaged snacks and place a few on the counter.

When I make it back to the group, Claire looks so pale that I think she’ll be ill before we even take off.

I take out the tiny travel tube of Dramamine and extend my hand toward her. “Here,” I bark out, my voice more gruff than usual. It does something inside of me to see her so upset. “I also got everyone drinks. They are all labeled along the side, so take your pick.”

Claire looks at the medicine as if I am offering her cocaine. Maybe she is shocked that I can be human after all of the hassling I have done to her prior to this trip. She mumbles her appreciation, and if I wasn’t already staring at her lips, I may have missed her message. She smiles when she sees the vegan green smoothie and instantly grabs it. I laugh on the inside that she would think anyone else would choose that one as their top pick. I basically bought it with her in mind.

“Thanks, Nic,” Angie says with a warm smile, grabbing the raspberry smoothie.

“Yes, thanks, bro.”

I relax into my seat and sip on the peach and mango smoothie, while watching Claire swallow two of the pills in my periphery. It doesn’t take long for the color to return to her cheeks and for the tension in her back to release. She must be expecting a text because every few minutes, she checks her phone. Thin lines mar her forehead over what I can only assume is disappointment.

Priority seating is announced and we gather our bags, making our way to the corridor. I hand over my boarding pass to be scanned and then wheel my travel bag down the neon lit jet bridge.

Claire is directly in front of me, and I can’t get my mind to stop wondering if she is even wearing panties under the glitter. Her legs and ass are so defined that the sky-high heels only accentuate her tone. I shake my head to get the images of bending her over and fucking her from behind out of my brain. If it wasn’t for the slight dread I’m continuing to feel over having to endure the entire flight beside her, I might have those fantasies living rent-free.

Hints of warm vanilla fill my nostrils as her hair shimmies behind her. She styled it today to be poker straight. The sleek shine of her dark locks makes her look exotic but forbidden. The combination is intoxicating.

I stop suddenly and pause my daydreaming as I almost crash into her as she stops to pick up her tube of lip gloss. I curse under my breath as she stands and then tugs down the hem of her dress that has ridden seductively up her silky thighs. If she wasn’t still pissed at me over the whole cafe meetup and spontaneous pop in of her yoga class, I would think she is trying to punish me and my dick with her flirting. However, the fact that she is oblivious to the effect she has on me only makes me want her more.

The first-class section is assigned with our own flight attendant and some added perks when we get in the air. The seats are leather and have extra leg room. This is the best option for a comfortable travel experience—if deciding to fly commercial. Except, there is no logical way possible to be comfortable when Claire is smelling like a cupcake factory. The smell is so strong that I want to lick her skin to see if she tastes like frosting. I want to lick a lot more of her, but I need to keep those thoughts to myself before I go up in flames.

Claire looks down at her boarding pass and then up at the marked rows. When she finds the one assigned to us, she stops and secures the handle on her carry-on.

I watch as she struggles to get her bag up in the overhead compartment, huffing under her breath at me every time I ask if she needs my help. Every inch her arms lift, her bottom hem does the same. I wipe a hand over my face. She’s going to be the death of me. I am shielding her with my body from the growing line behind us.

After several tries, I lose my patience. I reach around her, take the bag from her hands, and plop it into the storage with ease. I lean my mouth down to her ear and whisper, “All you need to do is ask.”

Claire looks back at me with her smoky eyes. She knows exactly how to enhance the beauty that she was born with. “Thank you.”

“Take whichever seat you prefer.”

She smiles and then slides into the one closest to the window. Angie does the same across the aisle, opposite us. I fish out my laptop and earbuds, setting them on my seat. I toss my bag effortlessly overhead and then get myself comfortable in my seat, allowing other people to pass through our section of the plane. I pull down my tray, set up my workstation, and try my best not to ogle Claire who cannot stop reapplying lip gloss to her already red stained lips. Are her lips really the Sahara Desert or is she just trying to make me wild? I glance over at the label and sure enough it is titled “Kiss My Cupcake.”

I reach up and press my hands to the back of my neck. The smell is delicious. My dick twitches as I wonder whether or not her pussy tastes as sweet.

Claire moves closer, placing her elbow on the armrest divider. Why is she leaning toward me? Shit. I need to switch seats or something. My body stiffens as she takes her phone and reaches it across my abdomen.

“Smile you two,” she calls over the aisle. “Got to capture all of your moments.”

Fuck. Even with the extra space of first-class, I feel claustrophobic and too crowded with Claire up in my personal space, only adding to the tension happening at the zipper of my pants.

---