Page 36 of The P Arrangement

“Yeah.”

“Anything good?”

“It’s okay. I’d rather be doing something else.”

I chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t get your laptop out to work on something.” I knew he’d brought it because he’d had to take it out of his bag at security.

Putting his phone in the back of the seat in front of him, he said, “I stayed late the last three nights at work. I’m kind of sick of it.”

Preston’s work ethic was one of the things I’d always admired about him. He was a hard worker without a doubt, or he wouldn’t have his own thriving firm. He’d built Benowitz & St. James from the ground up with his partner. But he wasn’t a workaholic who never took time to relax or spend time with his family.

He turned in his seat, causing me to sit up. Pulling his one hand from my thigh, he put it behind my head and slid the other under his sweatshirt that was covering me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

His palm slid up my leg and over my lower abdomen. “All I can think about is how warm you are between your legs and how you’re not wearing any underwear.” With a gentle tug on the top of my leggings, he said, “I want to feel your pussy.”

Casually, I scanned the area from my spot in the window seat. Many passengers were sleeping or otherwise doing their own thing. The cabin lights were off, and while it was daylight, it was cloudy in whatever part of the country we were flying over.

When I looked back at Preston, I smiled and spread my legs.

He yanked my knee over his before he went back to my pants and slipped his hand inside.

He groaned low when he skimmed over my core, and I knew what he’d found.

“I’m already wet,” I told him.

“Yeah, baby, I can tell. You like the idea of me playing with your cunt in a plane full of people, don’t you?”

I sucked in a breath. There was no point in denying it. While the humiliation I would feel at getting caught scared me, it also excited me. Part of me wanted people to know how naughty we were.

He put his forehead to the side of my head so his mouth was close to my ear. “I’m going to touch you now because I can’t wait any longer.”

“Yes, please,” I said as I snuck my own hand between his legs. I wrapped my palm around his denim-covered cock just as he pushed his fingers inside me.

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from making noise as I bucked my hips. Unlike Preston, I had not masturbated every night this week, and I hadn’t had an orgasm since Sunday morning.

“Fuck, Laney, your pussy is on fire. I wish I could put my mouth on you. I want to taste you so bad.” He stroked my G-spot and clit with each word that fell from his lips. “What do you think? Do you think anyone would notice if I got down on my knees and ate your delicious cunt? Would they know what I was doing? Would they know you’re my slut?”

I whimpered and lifted my hips to ride his hand. “I’m going to come.”

“Fuck it,” he growled.

Before I knew it, he yanked his hand out of my pants, was on the floor between my legs, and had my leggings down around my knees. My ass was hauled to the edge of the seat, and within ten seconds of Preston sucking my clit in his mouth, I was coming all over his face.

Barely aware I was on a public plane, where anyone could see me since Preston’s body was no longer blocking me in from the aisle, I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the armrests as my orgasm washed over me in wave after wave.

When it slowly waned, he moved his mouth lower and swept his tongue inside my core before I heard the distinct sound of a slurp. Knowing Preston was licking up my juices was almost enough to make me come again, and when he flicked my swollen nub again, a small tremor went through me.

Preston helped me get my pants back up as he slithered out from under his sweatshirt. And with far more grace than I would be able to pull off, he took his seat again beside me as if he hadn’t just gone down on me.

Putting a finger under my chin, he leaned over and kissed me, making love to my mouth with his. When he drew back, he said, “I wanted you to know how good you tasted. Best fucking cunt.”

I smiled. “How many have you sampled?”

He smiled back. “You know I wasn’t a saint in college, babe.”

We’d gone to the same college for our undergrad years before we started dating. Back then, Preston had been a slut.

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