Page 11 of Hold Still

Ozzy

WE PULL UPto the deserted airstrip in New Jersey. No planes are lit up except for Platinum’s, which is waiting for us at the end of the tarmac. My high is waning, but it really helped me get through the wedding. And sex with the spunky brunette sitting next to me will see me through to Vegas.

Damn but Cole looked happier than I’ve ever seen him. Maybe Rose won’t do him dirty. Though that’s what I thought about Teresa, too.

Diverting my thoughts, I look at my travel companion. Even though she changed out of her orange dress, she’s totally hot. Well, not in the stick-thin model way, but in the let-me-grab-your-hips-and-rock-your-world way. My cock rises to the occasion. Yeah, this is going to be a much more enjoyable flight home than it was coming out here.

I get out of the SUV and pick up her luggage. Hefting the oversized bag out of the back, I get it to the pavement and pull up the handle. “Geez. How long have you been out here?”

“Got in yesterday.”

This is what she packed for two nights? Holy shit. “Were you thinking of moving in?”

“Nope. Just need options.” She laughs and my balls tighten at the melodious sound. Something unlocks inside my blackened heart, which I promptly quash. No. I need to get her alone pronto, so I head for the plane.

From somewhere behind me, I hear her call out, “Don’t you have any luggage?”

“The crew brought it with them to the hotel, so it’s already on the plane now.” Condoms. I only have one on me, but I put more in my duffel bag. Signing the divorce papers—turning over all my money—Cole’s wedding. I need to bury myself inside her and forget the hell of the past twenty-four hours.

At the foot of the stairs, the crew takes her luggage from me, and I ask for my duffel. “Go on ahead of me, I’ll meet you up there in a minute.” I watch as she climbs the staircase, admiring the way her round ass sways as she ascends. Yup. She’ll definitely help me forget.

Grabbing a handful of condoms from my duffel bag, I wink at the flight attendant and bound up the stairs. Inside, McKenna runs her hand over the light beige leather seats, but I go straight to the sofa. Throwing myself down on it, thighs splayed wide, I pat the cushion next to me.

McKenna crosses her arms over her tits and stares at me from across the plane. Damn. What I want to do to her body. And I know, from experience, she’s a total wildcat in bed, always up to try anything. “Take your seat and strap in.” Smirking at my not-so-subtle inuendo, I pat the sofa again.

She shakes her head and sits in a chair across the way.

I poke my tongue against my cheek. “Why are you playing so hard to get? You know you’re going to love it, babes. You always have.”

Her lips thin. “I only needed a ride, Ozzy. I’m not going to sleep with you. Think you can handle doing someone a favor without expecting anything in return?”

“Who said anything about sleeping?”

“I’m serious.” She crosses her legs. Only now do I realize she swapped her sexy-ass heels for flats, too. Oh well, they’ll be off soon enough.

The flight attendant who saw me grab the condoms walks into the cabin with a tray, offering us champagne with a smirk. I stand and take two glasses. Handing McKenna a glass, I sit down on the chair next to hers and lean in. “We’ll see. We have five hours to kill.”

She opens her mouth and yawns.

“Good try. You told me you flew out yesterday, so you’re still on Vegas time. It’s only seven o’clock according to your body clock.”

“Ozzy, you don’t know anything about what my body needs right now.” She turns her head away to watch the safety demo. I’m sure she pulled a face. What’s with her? Concern floods my brain as the remnants of my buzz dissipate. Her body language screams she’s upset. No, more like anxious. Is she afraid of flying?

We’re soon airborne and the pilot says we can unbuckle our seat belts since he doesn’t expect any turbulence. Undoing hers first, I get out of mine and swivel to face her. Reaching out, I grab her left foot and place it on my lap. After discarding her shoe, I massage her instep, hoping to relax her.

Her gentle sigh clues me in about how much she’s enjoying what I’m doing. In silence, I switch to her right foot. Some of the anxiety has drained from her eyes, which now take on a deeper hue.

Without saying a word, I place both of her feet on the floor and skim her arms. Her eyes slam shut and her breathing hitches. I trace her shoulder and place my index finger on her cheek, pulling her closer to me.

She’s exactly what my body needs right now. And despite her comment, I believe I’m what she needs, too.

Our breaths mingle, our lips almost touching. “Open your eyes,” I demand. I want to confirm I’m right.

McKenna’s eyelids flutter open midway, unfocused. Her breathing comes in rapid pants.

I move to seal the deal when her eyes fling wide open and she plows backwards into the chair, words flowing from her kissable mouth. “So, how’s your new album going? Almost finished with it? Your residency is ending soon, right?”

I close my eyes to shut out her rapid-fire questions. I don’t want to talk about my nonexistent writing. When I open my eyes again, I play with the stripe of white hair amongst the dark brown. “I like this.”

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