After takeoff, I open my eyes to find Leo’s gaze glued to the side of my face.

“You okay?” he asks, and I lift my head off the seat and take in a deep breath.

“Thank you.” He better be careful—a girl could get used to the princess treatment he gives me.

“It’s okay, I’m sure the circulation will come back.” I release his hand and he flexes it over and over again. “I’ll take it any day.”

The scary part is I believe him.

The flight attendant walks down the aisle, taking drink orders.

“Can we have a blanket?” Leo asks and her overly made-up eyes linger on us for a beat, but she nods.

“I get cold on planes,” I say.

The flight attendant purses her lips then nods again. “Sure thing, sweetie.” She reaches up in the overhead compartment and hands it to Leo.

“Thank you.”

I glance around the first-class area. The row next to us and in front of us is filled with businessmen, their laptops already out, hard alcohol drinks in their hands.

I guess you don’t get to afford first class because you watch movies and chomp down on the free snacks during the flight. Speaking of which, the man who can afford first class next to me seems much too concerned about the temperature of my body.

“You want anything else?” Leo asks.

I nod, a smile playing on my lips. “Are you setting me up?”

“No. I would never do anything you didn’t want me to.” He holds both hands up in the air. “Let’s watch a movie.” His iPad is propped up on the tray with ear buds plugged in. “We’ll have to get close to both listen.”

“Action flick?” I ask in a bored voice.

“I don’t have much of a collection of romantic comedies—”

My smile dips into a frown.

“—but lucky for you I think ahead.” He clicks play, moves up the armrest and I cuddle into the warmth of his body.

I wasn’t lying when I told the flight attendant I get cold.

I recognize the movie right away and I’m happy that it will keep my mind far from the thought that I’m racing through the air in a tin can miles above the earth.

The Wedding Singer begins playing and my head lands on Leo’s shoulder. One of his hands is on his soft drink and the other lies on the tray. I snuggle into him a little more, hoping that he’ll take the hint that I want him to touch me. But by the time we’re halfway through the movie—still nothing.

I arch my back and stretch, purposely letting the blanket fall from my chest, hoping the sight of my breasts will invite him to touch me.

Instead, he asks the flight attendant for a refill.

This is the modern world, right? Surely, I can make the first move. My hand slides along his jeans, and he shifts in his seat, his legs widening at first. An invitation, I presume. Traveling north, my hand skims along his thigh toward its final destination. He picks up his glass, placing it on my tray. Why didn’t I do this an hour ago?

He wiggles in his seat and I lick my lips in anticipation of touching him. I touch the bulge in his pants, but instead of leaning back and enjoying, he slides out of the seat.

“I’ll be right back.”

I watch him go to the bathroom and shut the door.

The businessman across the aisle glances over, a flirtatious smile on his face. Like he knows what I was doing. He doesn’t. But from his face you might think he does.

Maybe Leo’s expecting me to go to the bathroom with him, but surely I can’t just walk into the same lavatory with the man across from me watching. I might as well announce to the entire first class that I’m going to join the mile-high club.

My answer comes when Leo returns after only a few minutes. Guess that would be a no, he wasn’t waiting on me. He slides back into his seat, picking up his ear bud, and with a soft smile my way he presses the play button.

We sit in silence, hands in our laps for the rest of the movie. By the time it ends, the flight attendant is serving our lunch. And before I realize, the pilot is overhead announcing our descent into LAX. So much for joining the mile-high club.

We store our trays and the flight attendant takes our drinks away.

“Just relax,” Leo says and instead of taking my hand, his warm palm lands on my thigh under the blanket. But it stays there and doesn’t move.

His head is resting on the seat, his eyes closed. Everyone around us is in similar positions except for the one to our left—he’s looking out the window.

The plane dips and I startle, my hand locking Leo’s to my thigh.

He squeezes my flesh. “It’s okay. We’ll be on the ground soon.”

I mimic Leo’s position, closing my eyes and trying to relax.

The plane dips and I inhale a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm the tension coursing through my body.

Leo’s hand starts moving up my thigh and he slides the closest he can get to me with the armrest between us. I slouch down and his fingers walk up my yoga pants, push past the elastic waistband and then move slowly down the outside of my panties. He teasingly runs his fingertips along the hem of my silk panties, then his hand rubs my entire pussy, but he’s careful not to graze my clit.

My stomach drops with the plane, and Leo uses more pressure, teasing me around the spot I need his touch the most. He slides his fingers inside my underwear and in a painfully slow pace he coats his fingers with my wetness, running up and down my pussy, sliding them easily from top to bottom.

My chest heaves for a solid breath and I slide down further in the seat, giving him ample room to get me off. In the gentle but firm circles around my clit, his thumb brings me to the edge faster than I would have expected. I bite down on my lower lip to prevent myself from crying out.

“Did you think I wouldn’t do it?” he whispers, timing his words with the landing gear coming down.

I glance over to him, his eyes hooded with lust.

“I will pay you back for this,” I whisper.

“We’ll do a red-eye next time.” He winks and grins.

He inserts a finger, arching to hit my G-spot. The exact spot he found and mastered last night. My body arches, my breasts out for his taking. If only he could suck my nipples, I’d combust.

“Le—”

“Shh,” he whispers in my ear then nips on my earlobe. “You can scream my name later.”

He doesn’t stay long on my G spot, instead teasing me again with his finger running down my opening. Then he shifts in his seat, making like he’s looking out the window, and pushes two fingers inside of me, his thumb rubbing my clit like two people slow-dancing to romantic music. My thighs contract, locking his hand in place.

I’m close and he knows it, so his fingers work faster but not harder.

Just as the tires of the plane land on the runway, my body shudders, releasing all the pent-up tension from the past six hours. He slows his movements while I ride out my orgasm, his fingers moving out of me, his entire large hand rubbing my pussy up and down, eventually placing my panties back in place.

“Welcome home,” he says softly in my ear.

The plane skids to a stop and our bodies shift forward. He takes out his hand from under the blanket and then runs his fingers under his nose.

And just like that I’m ready for another round, my addiction to this man in full effect.