Page 106 of Mistletoe and Mayday
“That’s it,” he encourages as my breathing fractures. “Let go, Bailey. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”
His thumb presses down, circles faster, and I shatter—pleasure exploding outward in waves that curl my toes inside myboots. My hips buck against his hand, seeking more, seeking everything.
“Sebastian,” I gasp, his name breaking apart as the orgasm thunders through me.
I collapse back in my seat, aftershocks still pulsing through me, as Sebastian withdraws his hand with maddening slowness.
“You,” I pant, struggling to regulate my breathing, “are going to be the death of me. And possibly this plane.”
Sebastian looks pleased with himself as he adjusts my clothing, putting it back in place. “The autopilot had everything under control.”
“That is beside the point,” I mutter, though my indignation lacks conviction given that I’m still boneless from pleasure. “I’m supposed to be a professional.”
“You are,” he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. “A thoroughly professional, exceptionally capable pilot who possesses remarkable multitasking abilities.”
I roll my eyes, unable to suppress my smile. “You’re just proud of yourself for making me lose control.”
“Always.” The way he says it—low and intimate—makes my heart perform wild acrobatics.
I check the instruments, confirming our little deviation into unprofessional territory hasn’t compromised our flight path. Everything remains steady and on course. Unlike my pulse.
“You realize this means war, right?” I say. “I’m getting you back for this.”
Sebastian smiles. “I’m counting on it.”
The rest of the flight passes with electric tension humming between us. Sebastian returns to his tablet, occasionally glancing up to catch my eye with a look that promises more. Ifocus on flying, trying not to contemplate exactly how I’ll return the favor upon landing.
Alaska appears below us, vast and pristine and wild. A tightness forms in my throat as I recognize the landscape where our story began.
“Almost there,” Sebastian says, and I’m not sure if he means our destination or something else entirely.
I begin our descent, the familiar routine centering me despite the lingering warmth in my veins.
“We’re starting our approach to Alaska,” I announce, shifting back to professional mode. “Buckle up. It could get...bumpy.”
Sebastian withdraws his hand from my thigh, but not before giving it one last squeeze. “I believe you enjoy tormenting me.”
“Consider it payback for all your mysterious hints about why we’re returning to Alaska,” I reply, focusing on the controls as we begin our descent through a bank of clouds. “Besides, now you have something to anticipate on the return trip.”
“I always have something to look forward to with you,” he says. “That’s why I love you so much.”
I’m not blushing. Pilots don’t blush. It’s simply warm in the cockpit.
Alaska spreads below us, a patchwork of white and dark green. Home of wolves, snowstorms, and one sturdy cabin where I first realized I might be falling for the most infuriating man I’d ever met.
“So,” I say as we begin our descent toward the all-too-familiar landing strip, “funny how this abandoned airport suddenly got reopened and certified for commercial use right around the time you decided we needed to make a trip here.”
Sebastian glances out the window with practiced nonchalance. “Quite the fortunate coincidence.”
“Mmm, yes. Very fortunate that I could file a flight plan to an airport that wasn’t even on the maps six months ago.” I toggle a switch, adjusting our descent rate. “And look at that—fresh runway markings, proper lighting, even a ground crew waiting. All for your mysterious ‘business meeting’ in the middle of Nowhere, Alaska.”
“Perhaps the local government recognized the economic opportunity.”
I give him my best side-eye. “The only thing that moves that fast is Sebastian Lockhart when he really wants something.”
His lips twitch. “I may have made a few calls.”
“A few calls? You practically built a whole new airport!”
