“What happened to the woman who was outside with me ten minutes ago? The one who promised to suck my cock if I behaved?”
I look back to him, affronted. “I didn’t promise to—”
The most breathtaking smile cuts me off. He is beyond handsome. He is goddamn delicious, and I know precisely what will distract me as we prepare to take to the sky.
I look around him, eyeing the doors at his back. “Are there any bedrooms?”
He sinks his teeth into his full bottom lip as he takes my hand and leads me into a room at the other end of the plane. “My Pixie is horny.”
“Why do you call me Pixie? Are you into weird Pixie porn or something?” I ask on a light laugh, finding myself funny.
He turns into me, backing me against the door and caging me with his arms. “No, baby, that’s not it,” he tells me, smoothing his thumb over my brow and down my cheek.
Biting my lip, I slide down the door to my knees, breaking the intense look that passes between us. I unbuckle his belt and free him, quickly sliding him to the back of my throat.
* * *
“Tellme something I don’t know about you?” I say as I try to distract myself from the ridiculousness of the private plane. We were delayed when Mason went AWOL—that might have been my fault—and only took off around half an hour ago.
“What do you want to know?” he asks, resting his head back against the seat and looking over at me all hot and sexy. He smiles as if sensing my thoughts, lifting my hand to his mouth and running his lips over my knuckles.
“If I knew that then I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Hmmm.” He looks around the plane, deep in thought. “I never wanted to go into real estate; I only did it because Scarlet didn’t.”
“Really? And now? How do you feel about it now?”
“It’s good, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else, and it’s a bonus I can do it with Montgomery. The houses we sell are always next-level architecture, listed properties or have something to them. It’s easy to sell something you love.”
I sip my wine, smiling at his confession. I like this game. “Tell me more.”
“I’m allergic to dogs,” he blurts out, his words suddenly flowing from him like a broken tap. “Just being in the same room as one sets me off. My eyes get red and itchy, and my face gets puffy. It’s awful.” He looks at me, his face dropping. “What?”
“Dogs. You’re allergic to dogs?”
“Yep. Hate the things.”
“What?!”
“I’m allergic to dogs,” he says, looking at me like I am crazy.
“I heard you. Crap!” He laughs at my dramatics. “Fucking plot twist! This is it. This is your thing.”
“My thing?”
“Yes. The thing that makes you imperfect. You have it all, the looks, the money, the life.” The heart. “All but the dog. Damn it, is it too late to turn the plane around?” I stand, stepping past him as I playfully go to leave, but his arms wrap around me, pulling me down onto his lap. It has me laughing into his chest.
“You want a dog?” he mumbles into my neck.
I pull back so I can see his face. “Well I did,” I say, rolling my eyes.
His eyes flick all over my face, and I wonder what he finds so fascinating. “I haven’t found it yet,” he tells me.
“Found what?”
“Your imperfection. And I’m pretty sure there isn’t one.”
* * *
