Page 12 of Mistletoe Missus
Strong fingers kneaded my tense muscles. “What are you doing?”
Mitt answered in my ear, “Calming you down.”
My eyes snapped open.
“But I—”
“Relax,” Mitt encouraged me as his fingers massaged my shoulders and my eyes rolled. “Close your eyes and breathe.”
His calming technique loosened me up, and he molded me into putty in his hands. He made some circular motion with his thumbs, making me moan, with my head lolling downward. Mitt had magical hands, performing an art I had never experienced, and I never wanted him to stop.I wonder what else Mr. Mitt Morgan could do with those hands?
“God. What are you doing to me?” I asked, completely lost in his trance.
“I’m not God, angel. I’m your soon-to-be-husband.”
Mitt’s warm breath fanned my ear, and the wispy hairs tickled my skin. Warm tingles erupted and shot straight down into the pit of my aching belly. There, feelings stirred, creating a sweet hot mixture, thickening between my thighs and leaving a wet spot.
Suddenly, the flight attendant interrupted, “It’s safe to take off your seatbelts.”
Embarrassment heated my cheeks as my head jerked up and Mitt took his hands off my neck. My panties were moist, and I moved in my seat to forget I had let myself get carried away. Idon’t even know how many moments I had let such a delicious touch consume me. I was practically foaming at the mouth!
Mitt cleared his throat.
“Thank you.” I said.
Mitt moved in his seat, and he wasn’t doing it to get comfortable. I could’ve sworn he adjusted his dick. My eyes widened at the thought, and I had to force my curious eyes to turn away before he caught me gawking at his crotch. I bit my lip, formulating a thought.Had I affected Mr. Morgan as much as he had aroused me?
Well, duh!
I liked to think I was attractive, and there was no doubt Mitt was incredibly hot. He must have felt the pull between us since we first met, and being this close while touching me, must turn him on. His hands on my body and all this pent-up sexual tension would be the end of a flaccid cock. But we had our destination wedding around the corner. We should maintain focus, not engage in reckless sex.
I exhaled a lengthy sigh. “I’m sorry about my freak out back there. It was stupid of me.”
Self-consciousness consumed me as I undid my seatbelt and rubbed my arms. I shouldn’t be acting pathetic—I had made my choice.
Mitt grabbed my chin and made me turn to him. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid. Your second guessing makes you human.”
“Human?” I mumbled as I glanced down and felt shame. “I acted like an animal about to be slaughtered.”
“No,” Mitt breathed as he rubbed his thumb across my lower lip, and my breath caught. “An angel with broken wings.”
“Angel?” I whispered against his fingertips.
“Yes. My angel, whom I took under my wing until you healed, and I fixed you,” Mitt answered in a soft whisper.
“Why?” I whispered, almost breathless.
Something shifted in his eyes, and he removed his fingers from my parted mouth. “Because our wedding is in a few hours.”
“Right. The wedding,” I said as I gave myself a mental shake to snap out of whatever world we had been stuck in.
We were acquaintances about to tie the knot, not instantly fall in love. Love was off on the sidelines, waiting for its turn to take the field and score the winning goal, immediately filling our hearts. Or it could be the complete opposite—a fumble in front of the net and a tackle before true devotion ever had a shot.
Mitt cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an important call to make.”
“Absolutely,” I said with a small smile.
I watched as Mitt got up without a glance back and turned his attention to his cell phone. He fell out of eyesight and a frustrated sigh escaped me.What the fuck was wrong with me?
