Taking my seat in First Class I rifle through my purse for earbuds, peppermint gum, a scarf to cover my legs since it’s always freezing on airplanes, and of course my copy of O Magazine. I need my Oprah fix when I fly. Shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head out, I continue the inner struggle of regaining my composure. Justin Cocker just blew me wide open.

That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life. It wasn’t his size, though I was a fan. I’ve had some good-sized penises in my day but size doesn’t matter unless you know what you’re doing with it. He knows. Oh, he knows. The way he grinded and growled while telling me that dirty story? Fuck. Wow.

I mean, holy fuck and wow wow wow.

“Can I get you something to drink?” a pretty flight attendant asks.

I offer her my most practiced smile. “Yes. A double of whatever whiskey you have.”

Her delicate eyebrows twitch up. It is noon after all. “Ice?”

I’m smiling but my eyes are telling her not to fuck with me. “That would be lovely.”

She gets the message and leaves to accommodate my request.

As I slide my handbag under the seat in front of me I marvel aloud, “Why are people so fucking judgmental when they have no idea what’s going on in your life?”

Sitting back I congratulate myself for exhibiting such restraint with Justin. If I’d stood in that room a moment longer, or walked out with him at my side, I would’ve offered him my card.

Spending days checking my phone in hopes of a call that would never come, is not how I want to live my life.

My eyelashes flutter to the window in search of a distraction from the replay of sexual images splashing across my mind. Down below, men are laughing while they load all of our luggage into the cargo hold. They look happy with their job, don’t they?

Well, that’s nice to see.

I wonder what kind of lives they lead outside of here.

Do they grab a pitcher of beer with the boys every weekend and play fantasy football?

Do they have dogs? Families?

“Hello Wifey.”

My spine stiffens before my head slowly turns. We lock eyes, Justin Cocker’s tall frame blocking out everything but his beauty.

He points to the numbers above our row. “My boarding pass says I belong here.”

As my mouth falls wide open in an unflattering way, Justin slides into the empty seat next to mine and stretches out his long legs. The legs that were holding me up as he fucked me just minutes ago.

Turning back to the window, I whisper, “This isn’t happening.”

The flight attendant returns with my drink. The one I regret ordering now that I have a witness. “Double whiskey,” she announces like a total bitch, handing it to me across Justin’s lap.

“Thank you,” I mutter, deeply mortified as I glance to his entertained expression.

Her eyes go soft as they drink in the stunning architecture of his face. “Can I get you anything?”

She meant that. Anything.

He jogs his thumb my way. “I’ll have what my wife is having.”

Disappointed, she mutters, “I’ll be right back.”

As he slims his seatbelt to fit his athletic frame, Captain Huge Cock asks, “You visiting Atlanta?”

“What makes you think I don’t live there?”

“You seem more Boston to me.”

“Thank you.” I want to down this whiskey. It needs to be in my bloodstream ten minutes ago. Now I have to appear like I don’t want it.

I’m not a problem drinker.

It’s just a really hard day for me.

Really hard.

Hard.

My eyes fall to his lap and dance away with sweet memories replaying despite my best efforts to appear polite. He caught me. That’s what I hate most about having looked…the smirk he gave that told me he saw.

He decides to remove his suit jacket after a moment of concentration. Even in these large seats it’s not easy to get out of a tight fit like that custom-tailored piece. He moves to the edge of his chair and wriggles out of the sleeves, muttering, “Excuse me,” as he knocks his leg into mine. He didn’t touch me on purpose. It’s kind of adorable that he’s trying to remove that jacket smoothly and it’s not working.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Am I smiling?”

He eyes me. “You are.”

I motion for him to come closer. He leans toward me and offers his ear. Cupping my hand around it I whisper, “Someone just fucked me in a closet.”

He doesn’t flinch, and instead meets my eyes with a look that disintegrates my already damp panties. “Oh? Lucky guy.”

“Very lucky,” I smile, leaning back.

He crooks his index finger for me to return to him. I can’t help but do so. He hovers by my ear and breathes in it a second before rasping, “That’s funny, because two of my fingers smell exactly like an insanely hot woman I just fucked…in a closet.”

“You don’t say,” I breathe, eyes heavier.

His tongue licks my earlobe and I shiver. “It’s the truth. I swear it.”

“What a coincidence.”

As the flight attendant approaches I smile at her and give her a wink.

She literally sneers at me.

Handing him the drink she bends in such a way that her cleavage deepens, available for his admiration.

He glances to it. With a bored look he reaches for my leg and starts stroking it over my dress. “Can you set that down for me on my wife’s tray table?” Unable to say no, she reaches over and sets his glass beside mine. He dismisses her with a blasé, “That’ll be all.”

Mortified, she straightens like a shot, turns and collides with a passenger carrying a huge carry-on bag. “You can’t fit that in the overheads!” she barks.

“Oh, sorry!”

“We’ll have to check it for you. You can pick it up when you deboard the plane.” Grunting under the heavy load, she tugs the old suitcase back toward the door.

Justin’s smirks to me, “Doesn’t she know I’m married?”

Laughing under my breath, I reply, “Seems she’s not the type to care.”

His thumb is still absently stroking my thigh. He doesn’t move to release me and I’m not sure what to do with this.

Hypnotized by the warm sensation of his stroke, my eyelashes drop to watch. His hands are very beautiful in a thick, masculine way. Strong fingers. Short nail beds. There’s a scar along two of his knuckles. He pulls his hand away, retrieving his glass and bringing it to his parted lips.

“Where’d you get that scar?”

Stretching his knuckles out he stares at it, twisting his wrist to catch it better in the light. “My brother Jason and I got into a bar fight in New Orleans almost three years back. Or was it two?” He stares into the memory with a smile. “We were saving his future wife. Not that we knew it at the time.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“We kicked ass. It was entertaining.”

I laugh and his fake-seriousness transforms into a smile.

The intercom crackles and the pilot comes over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin our ascent, our destination Atlanta, GA where the weather is a warm seventy-seven degrees.”

On an inhale I glance to the window in time to see our baggage handlers driving their cart away as the plane pulls back from the terminal. My drink gets a solid gulp as I watch our slow and steady journey down the runway.

A whole chapter of my life is over.

How do I brace myself for this?

My dad says he needs me.

How could I say no to that?

No matter how much he drives me crazy.

No matter how little we get along.

He is the only family I have left.

“And you can’t say no to family,” I mutter.

“Hmm?” Justin asks.

“What?” I glance over. “Oh, nothing. Didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

Boston miniaturizes as the plane reaches higher. Somewhere on those tiny roads U.P.S. trucks are hauling boxes of personal items I couldn’t part with to my father’s home until I find my own place. Which must be very soon. No way am I staying with him long.

“You want another one?”

Distracted I turn my head. “Hmm?”

He motions to my empty glass. “Your whiskey went south.”

Eyes falling to it, I sigh, “Like this trip.”

He pauses. “Is this a bad visit to Atlanta? Someone sick?”

Smiling it off like a pro, I shake my head. “It’s wonderful. I’m very happy to be going.”

One blonde eyebrow cocks. “Uh huh…sure you are. Who are you visiting?”

“Do we have to do this?”

Those gorgeous, pale green eyes darken. “Do what?”

“Chit chat. I’m really not interested in it.”

Staring at me a beat, Justin chuckles, “I’ll just stay quiet over here then.”

“Thank you.” I return to staring out the window, even when all I can see are blinding-white clouds now. What gives them the right to look so optimistic?

The overhead speaker crackles as a male flight attendant tells us, “Ladies and gentlemen, out of courtesy to your fellow travelers, please lower your window shades at this time.”

Darkness. Just what I need.

Pulling it down, I face forward and close my eyes. I wish I could scream at the pilot, Turn the plane around. I want to go back home! Take me back to Boston! I don’t even know my dad!

“Another for Jaimie.”

I glance over to see the male flight attendant nodding as he disappears.

“I’m not an alcoholic.”

From the corners of his eyes Justin looks over. “Didn’t say you were.”

“I must seem it.”

“Anyone would think so.”

I tilt my head. “But?”

“I’m not that close minded, Jaimes.”

Jaimes…

That’s what my mother used to call me.

He holds my eyes.

Does he understand something big is going on for me? He looks like he gets it.

These feelings — of pain and sadness and frustration and annoyance, along with so many others I couldn’t name if I tried — have nothing to do with him, and he knows that. I was ordering whiskey before we even spoke today.

I take his hand and rest it back on my leg, holding it there while I close my eyes.

I need this warm touch. I just do.

We remain this way until my new drink appears. Justin takes it with his free hand. “Thank you.” Squeezing my thigh he asks, “You want this?”

“Hold it a moment longer?” I’d shut the tray table before lift off as you’re supposed to do. Which is really just a pain in the ass.

After I unlock it and bring it down again, he sets the glass on it for me. “Here ya go.”

Under its shield I lay my hand on his and slide it up my thigh. “Thank you,” I smile.

Justin needs no further coaching.

His hand slips between my legs.

My eyelashes lower to watch his fingers disappear under my dress’s hem, and he wriggles the fabric around so that I remain modestly covered. Oh, he’s done this before, has he?

I don’t mind.

He’s a boy toy, this one.

That’s his lot in life.

To make women feel better.

And I need to feel better.

I can’t see his thick fingers anymore but I can feel them slip under my panties and stroke me while he stares forward like we’re not doing this.

I press my shoulders into the seat, pushing my hips up a little. Justin casually takes a sip of his drink while hungry fingers work away with pure talent. I glance over to him. His profile mouths, “So wet.”

Oh, God, it’s impossible not to moan, but I manage not to.

The female flight attendant peeks out to check on First Class and my body tenses, but Justin yawns and sets down his whiskey on his own tray table so as not to call attention to me. The whole time his middle finger flicks my clit in steady beats.

She vanishes again, having seen nothing out of the ordinary.

The guy across from us is snoring. His neighbor by the window is working on her laptop under one of those stupid spotlight bulbs she just switched on overhead. She could easily glance our way at any moment.

This is so wrong.

So dirty.

I love every naughty second of it.

Shifting my body toward him I give him easier access to my aroused, hot little pussy. He plunges a finger deeply inside me and holds there, biting his lip and shaking his head with desire. My hand wraps around his wrist, because I want him to keep going. His lips part. I glance to his crotch. His huge cock is pushing at that zipper. God, I want it.

Justin holds my look as he starts flicking my clit on the side I love the most. He sees my reaction and after about a minute of staring at me he mouths, “Cum for me.”

His lips.

That close shave.

The fucking tie I want to unravel and string him up with.

Biting back a whimper I silently explode on his thick fingers.

His long blonde eyelashes drop to my lap. His mouth is open. I can see his tongue. I want to taste it one more time. We both bite our lips at the same time and lock eyes with lust. He cups me and massages my tender pussy until I’m a puddle.

Pulling his hand back he darts a quick look around and decides more can’t be done here. All the seats are full. But I love that he’s thinking about it. How great would it be to just climb on his lap right here in the seat?

Oh my God. He just brought his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes, sucking on them for his pleasure alone, since he can’t have more.

He completely melts me with this.

He loves the taste. He loves women.

All women.

Which means he’s dangerous, doesn’t it?

Yes, it really does.

I push my dress down and lay my scarf over my legs, stealing one last glance at his handsome profile before I start reading my magazine.

Remember he’s not a man you can get attached to, Jaimie. He’s one to use up and throw away before he does that to you.