Page 4 of Release (Symbols of Love 3)

“Want me to make you come?” She asks in a slurred voice.

I look down at her. It’s dark on the plane, but light from the illuminated aisle means I can see her face well. There’s a smile there, but it feels…off. Exaggerated.

This is wrong.

She’s drunk and even if she wasn’t this isn’t me.

Relieved to have come to my senses, I put my hand on top of hers and stop her. “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper.

She looks up at me and her smile fades as she takes in my expression. I hold my breath as her expression goes blank. She doesn’t move, just stares straight ahead as if she’s trying to decide what to do. What if she causes a scene? I glance around at the passengers across from us. They both appear to be sleeping.

With a resigned sigh and a dismissive shrug of her shoulders, she pulls her hand away.

Her eyes are trained on her laps. I feel a ball of guilt in the pit of my stomach. “Listen, I’m sorry…I just...” I struggle to find words that will make this situation less awkward.

She waves a hand dismissively as she leans back in her seat with her eyes squeezed shut. “You don’t have to explain,” she says quietly.

She opens her eyes again, reaches inside the seat back pocket in front of her and grabs her headphones. Once they’re settled over her ears, she starts to pull the blanket off my lap.

“Woah, one sec,” I say, making a grab for it, but she’s yanks it off before I can stop her.

I hurriedly shove my now very soft cock back inside my wet jeans and hurry to snap them closed. I glance over and see that she’s pulled her eye mask into place. She turns to her other side, and reclines her seat as far back as it will go and pulls the blanket over her shoulder and snuggles into her seat.

I feel like I’ve been hit between the eyes by a wooden plank. What the fuck just happened? I tap her shoulder. She turns her head to face me, lifting one of the flaps of her mask. Her exposed eye regards me, rather dispassionately. “Did you need something?” She asks, her speech slow and slurred.

“What’s your name?” I whisper stupidly. I don’t know why I asked that. Not that I don’t want to know, but there are a lot of other questions I should have asked, instead. But I can’t think of any of those. She turns back around and puts her head down and I think she’s blowing me off. I hear an exasperated groan before she flips so she’s back on her side. She pulls her eyes mask up and stares up at the ceiling of the plane for a minute before she says anything. Her voice is quiet, but her words are deliberate and unaffected.

“Look, it’s no big deal. I thought you looked interested, I was wrong.” She starts to pull her eye mask down again and reach up to turn off the overhead lights

“You weren’t wrong,” I say hesitantly. “I’ve just never…this is kind of…fuck!” I look down. I feel like a boy who came too fast and disappointed his lover.

She eyes me warily, but leaves her eyes mask off and drops her hands.

She doesn’t say anything and I continue. “I think you’re beautiful. In fact, when I got on the plane, I was sorry you were asleep. But I thought we’d start by talking, you know?”

Her eyes brows shoot up and her mouth quirks in confusion. “Start what?”

“Getting to know each other,” I clarify. Her golden eyes widen and then she lets out a shout of laughter. It’s my turn to look confused.

“Why in the world would we do that?” She says, her eyes completely bewildered.

“Why not?” I shoot back.

“What’s the point? We won’t see each other again. I doubt you’ll even remember me in a week’s time.” She shrugs and watches me as if she’s expecting me to nod in agreement.

I try, very hard, not to be offended by the implication that she wouldn’t remember me either. But I can’t help it.

“So, this is a regular thing for you?” I ask, not bothering to hide my judgment.

She smiles, lacking any warmth.

“Listen,” she cajoles when my expression becomes stony. “I drink on long flights. It’s the only way I can relax to get through them. And when I drink, I get horny. I don’t usually have a Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome sitting next to me, though.” She winks and gives her eyebrows a waggle. The expression is as inauthentic as her smile and my hackles rise.

“I thought we could make the flight a little interesting. But, that’s all. If you’re not down, fine.” Her dismissal and nonchalance in the face of my confusion and discomfort stings. I don’t respond, but I can’t look at that ridiculous grin – that’s really a grimace - any longer. “No offense,” She says, as if that made any of this better.

“None taken,” I say curtly.

“Whatever you say,” she quips. The amusement in her voice irks me. I turn my head to look at her and her eyes evade mine and move back to her lap. I realize, her bravado is, at least partly, an act. Suddenly, I feel sorry for her.

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