Page 7 of Hot Mess Wedding

“If we crash, I’m gonna have to carry you out and that’ll be a pain in my ass.”

Her head whips around toward me. “Are you serious?”

I turn my head and glance at her. Her green eyes are wide. Her lips are parted and her breath coming in nervous pants. “About which part?” I ask, because with any luck, the idea of me putting my hands on her has scared her off.

“That we’re gonna crash. I know carrying me would be a pain for anyone’s body.”

“No. I’m fucking teasing. We’re not going to crash.”

She nods slowly. The flight attendant drops off her drink and Cleary swipes her card to pay. “Yeah, but you don’tknowthat.” Her pink tongue slides out and licks up a line of the salt, then she takes a swallow of her drink.

Fuck me. This woman is going to kill me before we land and this isn’t even a full hour long flight.

“I mean I know that statistically speaking we’re more likely to die from playing football. Oh, or even drowning in the bath. I get it.” She taps her forehead. “Up here, I understand it. But it doesn’t matter what my brain knows. I’m still nervous.” She takes another hearty sip.

“Tell me why you’ve never told anyone else that you write books?” The thought of her not having any support pisses me the fuck off.

She lifts a shoulder and pink settles into her cheeks. It only serves to make her prettier.

“I don’t know. I wanted to try it first to see if I would even be successful. Then I was worried how people would react to me keeping it a secret.” She winces. “I still don’t know how my best girlfriends will take it. I should definitely tell them. And my sisters-in-law. They’re both wildly successful romance authors. Actually, they’re who inspired me.”

“Then it sounds like they’ll be excited for you.”

“Maybe.”

“What’s this mysterious name you write under?” I ask. I’ve got to divert her attention away from thoughts about the plane going down since my dumb ass brought it up.

She laughs, then snorts. Her body shifts towards me, giving me a peek at her cleavage. “Anita Dix.”

She says it with just enough emphasis so that it sounds like ‘I need a dick.’

I laugh, can’t help myself. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“I did.” She swallows the last of her drink, then leans even closer to me. “I write filthy romance.”

Holy shit.

She writes filthy romance? What exactly does that mean?

Doesn’t matter. Just the sound of the word filthy on her lips gets me hard.

Then, she blinks up at me, the pink in her cheeks getting even brighter, and whispers, “Which is pretty damn amazing considering I’ve never even gone past first base.” Her face squishes up in a wince. “I guess I shouldn’t admit that to my readers.”

The blood in my brain goes whooshing past my ears on the way to my dick. Does that mean she’s a virgin? That the pussy beneath those jeans is untouched?

“Which one is first base?” I ask, the question coming out in a raw growl.

She licks her lips, tilting her head to the side like she’s trying to remember.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear this sweet thing was trying to seduce me.

“I think it’s kissing and touching over clothes,” she whispers.

I don’t say anything, just nod. I have the urge to get up and walk away. Or even better, pull this curvy, freckled beauty into my lap.

If what she’s telling me is true, then no man has ever touched her naked body.

Fuck my life.

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