I liked that.
I wasn’t supposed to particularlylikeanything about this flight.
I’d booked last minute on whatever international StrathOne A380 still had a suite seat left this morning, so that I could see firsthand what my newest first-class rollout felt like for regular passengers.
It should have been boring.
Quiet.
Work.
Instead, I was sitting ten feet away from the most unexpected part of my year so far.
With a chunk of plastic blocking my view of tied-up, brunette hair I wanted to sink my fingers into.
Lightly tanned skin that looked soft enough to feel like sin against mine.
And a face that could easily drop grown men to their knees.
And herbody.
God, her body.
She had to be nearly half my age.
Couldn’t have been much more than mid-twenties.
But it wasn’t stopping me from thinking.
Thinking with my cock…
I bit my knuckle as I pulled out my tablet, flicking through a handful of flight operations reports to try to take my mind off the button glaring at me from the other side of the suite beneath the partition.
But I barely absorbed any of it.
I knew what that button did.
I knew how to use it.
Passengers weren’t meant to.
But I wasn’t a standard passenger.
I fought myself through the dinner service, up until the moment when the cabin lights lowered and I could hear the rustling of people getting ready for sleep.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and moved to the foot of the bed, glaring at that stupid button like it owed me something.
Maybe it did.
She’d either hate me for it.
Or we’d get what we both wanted.
Worth it.
So I pressed it.
Just enough for the partition to lower a few inches.
