God, how does he have time to keep in such good shape? His arms are huge, and he has a ripped six-pack. His v-cut is deep and plunges down past his belt. His shoulders and chest are broad and I can’t keep my eyes off him.

I clutch the blanket tightly against me, and then I remember I’m only wearing panties beneath the covers.

Are we going to end up doing it before the surprise date even officially starts?

“From the way you’re clutching that blanket,” he says, “I”m guessing you’re naked under there.”

I feel my cheeks flush, and he grins. He flashes me that perfect smile.

“Turn around, Amber,” he says.

“What do you mean--”

“Turn. Around,” he says.

I roll onto my stomach and look back up at him. He undoes his belt, and then pulls down his pants.

I try to swallow, but can’t. I can see the outline of his cock through his boxers, but he’s not hard. Not yet.

He gets onto the bed and it dips from his weight. When I try to turn to face him, he presses me down. Then he straddles me from behind, and I feel him press against my ass through the blanket.

He reaches up and pulls the blanket down off my shoulders. I feel the soft, silky sheets sliding against my skin. Down past my shoulders, and then over my back and hips. He stops just short of my ass. My breasts are pressed down against the bed, so he can only see my back.

“Relax,” he says.

“How do you know I’m not--”

“You’re tense,” he says, and then his big, strong, protective hands press down onto my bare shoulders. “Very tense.”

I feel myself tremble against his touch, which definitely confirms that I am tense.

He presses his wide palms into my shoulders and back, digging them down and kneading against the knots in my back.

“You know how to give massages?” I ask.

It’s a stupid question because his hands are already working miracles on my back. He presses down, and I feel the knots melt away into pools of warmth. I didn’t know I was tense at all, but once I feel the relief of Liam’s touch, I can’t believe I’ve never had a massage before.

“No wonder you sleep in,” he says. “You’re all knots. Your body can’t rest properly like that.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble. It feels so good, I don’t want to break the spell by talking.

His hands work their way down my shoulders, and I feel continually amazed that he knows just when to press hard, and when to be gentle. His strong hands can be so gentle--when needed.

He works his way down my arms, and he even massages my hands and in between my fingers.

“My hands are tense, too?” I ask.

“Everything is tense,” he says. “When I first took over my father’s company, I was just as tense as you are right now. It kept getting worse, and that’s when I found out how important it is to get massages. I learned how to do it right mostly out of curiosity...but I get one professionally at least once a week.”

“Mmmm,” I say. “You can give me one every week, too.”

If only.

His hands work their way back up my arms, and then he starts down my sides. His fingers are just inches from the sides of my breasts, and I feel wetness building up between my legs. Considering that he took most of his clothes off before starting the massage, I think my body’s reaction is more or less appropriate.

His hands grip my waist, and he massages my sides and lower back. His touches proceed lower and lower, until he’s nearly touching my ass. His fingers move just to the boundary created by the blanket, pressing into the soft flesh of my lower back and upper ass cheeks.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” I say, feeling incredibly relaxed...at least above the waist.

“So you’re good?” he asks.

There’s a bit of a teasing tone in his voice, and he starts to let go of me.

“Uh,” I say. “I’m...halfway done.”

“Ah,” he says. “Still tense? Where?”

“Lower down,” I say.

He grips my waist again and goes to work.

I realize that my heart is pounding. I was terrified that Liam would stop, and now that he’s touching me again, I feel both relieved and thrilled. How low is he going to go?

I feel his fingers slide the blanket down a few inches, and then I feel cool air against my ass. It feels too good for me to be embarrassed or self-conscious. His hands start to massage my butt cheeks, and I squirm as the heat and wetness between my legs becomes nearly unbearable.

I bite my lip, stifling a moan.

“Why don’t you turn over,” he says, pulling the blanket back up to my waist.

I wanted him to keep going, to spread my legs and touch me where I long to be touched, but his voice is commanding. He really is in charge. I turn over without thinking about it.

His eyes widen as my bare breasts are exposed to him, and his hands run across the soft skin of my stomach.

Our eyes meet, and I look down lower, below my stomach. He smirks at me, and his hands work their way up.

He’s going to make me wait.

But when he reaches my breasts, adrenaline surges through me. When I hastily agreed to be this billionaire’s fake fiancée, I never thought he’d be massaging my breasts on a private jet.

He squeezes me gently, and I squirm. I force myself to keep my mouth shut, but a moan escapes.

“Uncomfortable?” he asks. “Want me to stop?”

I know he’s just teasing me, but the threat of stopping is too much.

“Keep going,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.”

He rolls my nipples between his thumbs and fingers, and it hits me like an electric shock. My hips buck up in response, and even though Liam just spent twenty minutes working all the knots out of my back and shoulders, I tense up as he touches my nipples.

“Relax,” he says. “It’s a massage.”

I try to relax, but I’m too tense...down there. There’s no way I can relax while this gorgeous, shirtless billionaire rubs my breasts and touches my nipples.

I reach up and touch Liam’s abs, but he grabs my hands and pushes them off. “No, I’m massaging you.”

“But--”

“Be patient,” he says.

I look down and see his thick cock pressing against his briefs, threatening to burst out. It’s huge, the biggest one I’ve ever seen.

“You’ll get blue balls,” I say, eyeing his cock.

“So you want to massage me?” he asks.

I nod.

“You sure you know how?” he asks.

I laugh. “Of course...maybe I’m not good at massaging your back, but there’s one spot I know how to do.”

“Which spot?” he asks, grinning devilishly.

I point to his cock.

He gets up off the bed, and pulls his underwear down and off.

His naked cock springs up against his rock-hard abs. It’s thick and veiny, and I rise up to my hands and knees to crawl across the bed to get closer to it.

He looks down at me, as I grab hold of his thickness. I can barely get my hand around it, but I squeeze it firmly at the base.

I hear him sigh in relief.

“Do your weekly massages include this?” I ask.

“My masseuse is a man,” he says. “No need to be jealous.”

“Oh,” I sa., “I wasn’t jealous, just curious.”

I run my hand slowly up his glorious cock, and I see his eyes roll back in his head.

“You’re so tense,” I say, squeezing.

“Only after touching you,” he says.

I smile and blush, but I don’t let go of his dick. I cup his balls with my free hand, and I start to stroke him faster.

I move closer and closer to him as I stroke his cock, until I’m just inches away from him.

Without thinking, I pull his dick down and angle it toward my mouth. I move my lips toward the head of his cock, and press them against it. I slide my tongue through my lips and press it against the purplish head.

I taste salty pre-cum on my tongue, and tighten my lips around his thick shaft. I begin to slowly work my way down his head, applying suction as I go.

He gets so thick that my jaw starts to hurt, but I let the drool leak out to lubricate my lips, and I slide further down.

I suck on him with my tongue pressed firmly against him, and I start to run my hand up and down.

“Fuck,” Liam says. “That’s good.”

I play with his balls as I suck him down, and after several minutes, I feel them tightening in my hand.

Liam grunts, and just as I feel his hot load blasting into my mouth, the whole room shakes, and my stomach drops.

I swallow his thick seed as the plane shakes wildly, dropping and rising what feels like several hundred feet up and down. Liam falls away from me, his cock popping out of my mouth, and I nearly roll off the bed, as I see his thick cock shooting another thick load up into the air.

“Sorry about that,” the pilot’s voice comes on over the intercom. “We’ve hit a little turbulence.”

I laugh as I feel his cum dripping down the corners of my mouth. Liam’s back is against the wall, and his thick cock is twitching and pulsating.

“You should be careful. You came so hard you created turbulence,” I say, laughing.

The plane settles, and Liam approaches the bed. He grabs me by the ankles and pulls me toward the edge of the bed.

If I was soaking wet before, now I’m practically a dam ready to burst.

He looks down at me and licks his lips. “I’ve been waiting for this…”

As if I haven’t been waiting! I badly needed him to touch my pussy over thirty minutes ago, though it will feel even better now that I’ve waited so long.

He dives right in. No hands--all tongue and lips.

I gasp as his mouth presses against my swollen and soaking mound. His tongue runs up my outer lips, and I reach back and squeeze the headboard as tight as I can. All the muscles in my body clench up.

“You’re right,” he says, laughing.

Before I can respond, I feel a finger begin to slide into my needy core.

I feel my insides trembling, dying for him to enter me.

There’s some more turbulence, though not as violent as before, but I can barely feel it next to the intense surges pulsing through my body as Liam eats me out. Liam pulls his finger out when the turbulence begins, and I sigh in frustration.

His hands clutch and grab hold of my hips, and I realize I’ve wrapped my thighs tight around his head. I don’t want to risk him pulling away...not that I actually think he would.

As his fingers dig into the flesh of my hips, I squeeze my own breasts and flick my nipples. I don’t usually do that when a man goes down on me, but then again, men don’t usually go down on me. I guess it takes a real man to do that--a man like Liam.

The turbulence settles, and Liam’s finger slides back inside me. I feel my back arch up in response, but he pushes me down with his free hand. His finger slides deeper and deeper in until he’s knuckle deep, then he slides back out. He starts thrusting with his finger as his tongue works my clit. It makes me long for that thick cock that stretched my mouth. It barely fit in my mouth, so I can only imagine how good it will stretch out my tight pussy.

Then a second finger slides in, and once he’s worked his way back all the way in, he picks up the pace once again.

I begin to wonder just how many fingers he can get inside me, but his tongue hits my clit just right as those beautiful fingers slide in and out, and I feel my inner walls tighten and throb against him.

I let out a surprised, high-pitched shriek, and then my throat closes up. My hips jolt up into the air, and Liam does all he can to keep his fingers moving and his tongue and lips on my clit.

The orgasm explodes within me, and it rocks my body like inner turbulence. It takes control of me, and my arms flail, my toes curl, and my back arches all the way up.

I can hear my heart pounding between my ears, and warm surges flood through me as my muscles all fully tighten. And then, suddenly, everything goes slack and limp, and I collapse onto the bed. Every muscle in my body, having been worked by Liam’s massage, feels so completely limp and relaxed. It feels as if I’m floating on a cloud, and there’s not a single stressor or knot in my entire body. The warmth of orgasm still jolts through me, and I convulse ever few moments as Liam licks my clit gently. His fingers are buried deep inside me, barely. They slide in and out just enough to remind me that they are there, and my pussy throbs and clenches against them.

I don’t realize how incredibly wet I am until he pulls his fingers out, and I feel my juices gushing out onto the bed. I see Liam’s fingers are soaked, but I’m too relaxed to do anything but smile.

“Welcome to the mile high club,” Liam says, grinning.

“We didn’t…” I say, but my voice is weak.

“You’re too spent,” he says. “Besides, I said we wouldn’t do that until after our date. Remember?”

I try to protest, but my eyelids feel heavy, and I quickly drift off to sleep.

* * *

“Amber.”

It’s a man’s voice. Not just any man. Liam. Our relationship is still so new that his existence constantly surprises me. I’m sure as hell not used to waking up to him.

“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my eyes groggily.

“Let me show you something,” he says, taking my hand in his.

I’m still naked, and since there are two women working on the plane as flight attendants, I grab my jeans and t-shirt from where I dropped them and quickly get dressed.

I can hear the dull hum of the plane’s engines, along with some significant movement. It feels like we may be prepping to land.

Once I’m dressed, Liam takes me by the hand again and leads me into the main cabin.

“What is it?” I ask.

He points toward the windows. Unlike the windows on commercial flights, these are not tiny little circles of thick glass barely big enough for a human face to press up against. They are big and wide, but standing where we are in the middle of the cabin, all I can see through them is the black of night.

Night. In Seattle it would only be 4:30 p.m., according to my watch. If it’s dark outside, that means we’re…somewhere in Europe? If we’d flown to South America, it would still be light out. If we’d flown west to Australia, Japan, or anywhere in East Asia, it would be morning by now.

“Europe,” I say.

Or it could be Africa, too, I suppose.

“We’re getting ready to land,” he says. “Hurry, look out the window. There is a good view coming up.”

He draws me by my hand toward one of the big windows. We stand there hand in hand, looking through the pane to the scene below us.

I see only yellow dots of light snaking out along what must be different roads. The landscape seems like it must be mostly flat.

“I don’t--”

“Shhh,” he says. “Just keep watching.

We’re descending lower and lower, and more detail comes into view the lower we get. I start to see individual cars and broad areas with little to no light, which must mean it’s the countryside or some rural area.

As the density of the lights and buildings begins to increase, I surmise that we must be entering the suburbs of a large city.

Just as I’m ready to give up in frustration and ask Liam what I’m supposed to be looking for, the plane banks sharply to the left.

As we turn, the center of the city pops into view over the horizon, glowing in light.

Near the center of that light, I see the Eiffel Tower standing tall and imposing above all the other lights. It’s basking in golden-yellow light, and most of all, it looks unreal. The Eiffel Tower is just...it’s a concept. It’s a thing you see on TV shows and in the movies. Maybe on a postcard, or in someone else’s vacation photos. It’s not an actual three-story piece of iron in a place called Paris. Paris wasn’t real either, as far as I was concerned. This whole city, not just the tower, but everything in it... was a place I never thought I’d go. But here it is, right smack dab below me through the plane window.

I squeal in excitement and grab hold of Liam’s arm. I pull and tug at him, but he’s already gotten the message, and he leans down to kiss me.

Our lips lock together, and our tongues meet, instinctively tangling in an intoxicating dance.

We kiss for a long time—it’s technically our first kiss in Paris, though does flying above Paris actually count as being in Paris? I’ll have to kiss him again when we land just in case it doesn’t.

A stewardess asks us to take our seats, as there may be more turbulence, and we sit beside one another on one of the couches. Once she’s out of earshot, I whisper to Liam, “Can she really tell you what to do?”

He grins. “It’s just a suggestion. One I continually chose to ignore until one day some turbulence on landing caused me to slam my head into the dining table. Now I follow their suggestions.”

I wince, imagining how badly that would hurt.

The turbulence picks up shortly after we have taken our seats, and I squeeze Liam’s arm in an effort to feel safe.

“Did you really mean what you said?” I ask.

“About what?” he asks.

“That this would just be a date? No ‘selling’ our relationship, no fake smiles for the cameras?”

“Yeah,” he says. “This is just for you and me. No one else.”