Page 17 of Girl Going Nowhere

I shift to turn my body far enough away from wandering gazes. It’s the flight attendants we’ll have to worry about, but since I’ve ignored all their advances so far, I’m pretty sure we’re in the clear.

I suck in a quiet breath when her hand snakes around my length and squeezes. “Christ, Blake.” The tendons in my neck tighten as I tilt my head back and try to keep the noises at bay as she pumps me from base to tip. If I look down and watch, it’ll be over all too soon.

I’m not quite sure I expected this to happen, even when we were flirting back and forth earlier. I never miss taking a shot at a beautiful woman when an opportunity arises. Most of the time, it doesn’t go anywhere, especially not when the shy version of Blake greeted me when I sat down.

But this version? I’ll take her any day.

Every stroke, pump, and twist of her fist takes me closer to the edge. I have to white-knuckle the armrests to keep myself grounded into the seat. My hips want to move—to fuck her palm.

“Going to come,” I say under my breath when she plays with the beads of precum leaking from me.

She reaches into her bag, barely stopping the torturously good rhythm over my cock to grab a…

“Is that a baby wipe?”

She winks at me. “I never leave my house without them. Something tells me they’re about to come in handy. Get it? Come. Handy.” She laughs lightly over her joke, jerking me faster and gripping me tighter in the perfect spot until—

“Fuck.”

The baby wipe undoubtedly becomes my best friend the second I empty myself into it.

We get back into less suspicious positions by the time the next passenger check happens.

I turn to my new favorite seat mate. “Let me return the favor. If not here, when we land. I’ve got a hotel room—”

“No.”

I blink at her quick, firm reply. “No?”

“Hotels and I don’t get along,” she mumbles.

My brows pinch at the ominous statement. “I want to return the favor.”

One of her shoulders lifts as she gives me a small smile. It’s empty, devoid of emotion to give away what she could be thinking. Similar to how she was when we first started talking. “Don’t worry about it, Rafael.”

This woman is an anomaly.

One I’d really like to figure out.

“How long are you in Charlotte for?” I ask her.

She doesn’t answer right away. For a second, I don’t think she’s going to. But then she lets out a tiny sigh and says, “Only for the weekend.”

I want to ask her to let me see her again.

I’d be willing to beg.

But when I see something in her eyes that I recognize, I hold back the request. Fear. Uncertainty. Before I had my career, I had nothing. So, I know what it used to feel like to be in her shoes.

So, I let it be to the fates. If we see each other again unprompted, I’ll make a move. Charlotte is a big city, but crazier things have happened.

When we part ways in the airport, I pull out my phone and snap a picture of her quickly before calling Vanessa. “I need you to do me a favor. And, no, it has nothing to do with baseball.”

My agent sighs. “Then why should I?”

“Because I met a girl.”

“Did she sign an NDA?”

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