Page 58 of Size Doesn't Matter

Not to be left out of the absurdity, her family chimed in. “Ooh, do you think you’ll take Jack’s surname or keep your own?” Oliver asked.

“Or hyphenate like Jane did,” Abby added.

“Sophie Bennett-Martin,” Crispin mused. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Speaking of rings,” Avery added, grinning.

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Sophie blurted, her eyes wide and her voice higher than usual.

“Yet,” Jack repeated, surprising her with a quick kiss. “My favourite word.” When Sophie continued staring at him, he added, “I bet you ten dollars you say yes within a month.”

“I’ll take some of that action,” Charlie said. “Anyone else?”

Sophie’s gaze sharpened, narrowed as she glared at her uncle taking bets from everyone in the room. Jack thought he was so clever, getting her family on side. But he would learn. Sophie Bennett was not to be underestimated. She wasn’t just a brat. She was a stubborn brat.

Folding her arms cross her chest, she stuck out her chin and said, “Easiest ten dollars I’ll ever make.”

22

Jack had always been a nervous flyer—turbulence was not his friend—but this time he had Sophie with him, and when he’d mentioned his long-term aversion to aviation, she’d suggested that all he needed was a distraction. So after taking off and after the seatbelt sign went out, long before there had been any turbulence to worry about, she’d dropped to her knees and begun distracting the hell out of him.

“Angel,” he groaned, fisting his hands in her hair and thrusting into her welcoming mouth. Oh yeah, turbulence was the last thing on his mind.

With a wet pop, Sophie lifted her head from his lap but kept a firm grip on his cock. “More?” she asked, that cheeky glint he was coming to appreciate more and more in her deliciously dark eyes.

He cocked one brow at her. “Did I tell you to stop?”

She sucked back a sharp breath, causing her breasts to heave and her pupils to dilate. “No, sir,” she whispered, then licked him from root to tip before taking him back in her mouth.

“Faaark.” He groaned again, his head tipping back against the headrest, then tightened his grip in her hair, tugging the thick strands until he heard her whimper. “That’s my good girl. Take me to the back of your throat.”

Sophie shuffled closer, took him deeper, whimpered louder and wriggled her arse.

Jack chuckled. “You horny, baby? You need me to take care of my girl?”

She tried nodding—which he imagined was not an easy feat with his cock in her throat—and then she hummed, sending the most exhilarating vibrations through his shaft and along every thread of nerves he owned. The sensation was sublime, and his body tightened in response causing his hips to thrust up sharply and making Sophie gag.

Spluttering and coughing, she eased herself off his cock and glared at him.

Catching her chin in his hand, he apologised. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, then ran his thumb over her mouth, smearing the wetness that clung to her lips. “Are you okay?” She tried to bite him and it made him laugh. “Now, now. That’s no way for my girl to behave,” he said, tightening his grip on her chin. “Only good girls get rewards, and you want your reward, don’t you, Sophie?”

She tried nodding again, but he tightened his grip and squeezed her chin, felt his desire ratchet higher when her eyelids shuttered and she sucked down ragged little breaths.

“Use your words.”

In an instant her demeanour changed, and she narrowed her eyes and glared at him. He’d noticed that she didn’t like it when he made her say things, speak her desires out loud. She had zero qualms acting on those desires, but if he had to guess, he’d say someone—probably someone influential—had made her feel ashamed of voicing her needs, made her mind question what her body knew to be true. She was a sexual submissive and a masochist. A curious, adventurous, sensual woman who enjoyed a bite of pain with her pleasure.

There was nothing shameful in that.

He stared her down, silently watching her with a stern brow until she relented and dropped her gaze, until she admitted what he already knew.

“Yes, sir. I want my reward,” she said quietly, her cheeks darkening to a gorgeous pink.

“Then stand up,” he said, getting to his feet and holding out his hand to help her up. As soon as she complied, he tightened his grip around her fingers and dragged her to the back of the plane, to the plush leather couch that sat along one wall. “Bend over and spread your legs.”

Again, she did as she was told, bending over the couch and resting her hands flat against the cushions, her feet shoulder’s width apart. Sophie had changed her clothes as soon as they’d reached the Forge for lunch, ditching the pretty floral dress she’d worn to her uncle’s wedding in favour of a pink denim skirt and white T-shirt. Bent over as she was, the denim stretched taut across her ample arse and his need to spank her made his palms itch.

“Pull up your skirt,” he demanded, his voice lower than usual, rougher, his lust riding him hard.

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