Page 85 of Waiting for Acceptance
“Good. We have a couples massage in forty minutes. Let’s grab a coffee on the way.”
Oh my god, this is the best day.
Our flight back to Nashville is delayed, and even though I am exhausted from this weekend with Fitz—in all the best ways—I don’t mind sitting in the airport with him. We got stuck sitting on the floor since every seat in our boarding section is full, so we’re propped up with Fitz’s back to the window and mine against his chest. His arms hang lazily over me while I scroll through the photos I took this weekend. The one of us from his dad’s party makes us look so high class, which feels absolutely insane. Then I select the picture of his apartment set up with everything I got him for his birthday, the video of me singing “Happy Birthday” to him, a photo of Ginny sleeping on his back—before her midnight aerobics started—one from Times Square, and another of my favorites from our picnic in Central Park. I click out of the app and set my phone up against my carry-on with the camera on a timer, then I look up at him and before I can say anything, he leans down and kisses my nose, making me smile.
I don’t know what to make of him. Most guys hate taking pictures or have something to say about you wanting to capture every single moment, but Fitz never has… I wonder if he’s just programmed that way from having to be in photos for business so often. I grab the phone and click on the picture, smiling so hard I feel my cheeks getting warmer.
“That’s a good one.” I agree and click back over and finish making my post, captioning it;Surprising the birthday boy in New York, 10/10 recommend. Nashville here we come.
“You are insanely good at marketing, you know that?” I shrink at the simple reminder that that is exactly what this is. Marketing a relationship for better business. “Hey, look at me.” I turn around and see Fitz with his phone out.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
“For someone who took pictures all weekend, I’m surprised you have to ask.” I glare at him and hear his camera click, causing my eyes to widen.
“Fitz! I wasn’t ready.” He keeps clicking away, earning more and more frustrated looks from me.
“Oh my god, you look so pissed.” He laughs, causing me to giggle—against my will.
“I am!” I go to grab his phone and he stops me by linking our fingers.
“I got you now, Trouble. Whatcha gonna do?” I lean forward and lick his camera lens and his mouth pops open. “Ok, now you’re just being a brat.” He wipes the lens off on his hoodie, still not letting go of my hand.
“You bring out the brat in me, Fitz. Your suffering is self-inflicted.”
“Well, as long as you’remybrat, I can handle it.” He smiles, pulling me back to him, and I suddenly forget why I was even mad. He kisses the top of my head, moving his lips so I can hear him. “Are you?”
I look back at him. “Am I what?”
“Mine.”
“You tell me.” His hand wraps around my neck, and he kisses me like there’s no one else in the airport but us. My body practically melts into his, loving the way he claims me with his lips.
“Yeah, Trouble. You’re mine.”
“Fuckin’ better be,” I mumble under my breath. Though our close proximity doesn’t allow me the distance needed to keep him from hearing.
“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I’ll prove to you,again, just how mine you are as soon as I get you home.”
“Why wait?” I glance over to the bathrooms right across from where our terminal is and I see the spark in his eyes as soon as his jaw tightens.
“Get up. Now.” I shiver with anticipation as he lifts me to my feet. He grabs our bags, including Ginny in her cat carrier, in one hand and mine with his other, walking with purpose toward the family restroom.
Who the hell am I? And what the hell am I doing?!
CHAPTER 44
FITZ
I’m hard before we ever make it in the door of the family restroom, ready to prove to her that I’ll claim her anytime and anywhere, all she has to do is say the word. I drop our bags and lock the door, seeing the wild look in her eyes with only the slightest hint of reservation.
“I’d give you an out to change your mind, Trouble, but I don’t exactly want to sit on a three-hour flight while my cock is hard as fuck, thinking about sinking into that sweet pussy of yours. So I’ll give you the option, on your knees, or bent over the sink.” She walks over to the sink, placing her hands on the edge, looking at me in the reflection of the mirror.
“Such a smart girl.” I walk over to her, sliding her leggings and panties down, smirking when I see how soaked she already is for me. “So wet for me.” I pull my sweatpants down, and tease her entrance with my tip, seeing her eyes grow heavy with desire.
Her hands grip the sink tighter as she presses her ass back into me.
“Greedy.”
