The one positive thing I’ll say is that it was cute when he read with me. At first, I thought he was only interested in the sex scene I happened to be on, but then he kept going and even became impatient when I took longer, making him wait for the page to turn.
Three chapters were left by the time we touched down, and I could tell he was pretty invested at that point. I almost felt bad cutting him off, but once he opened his mouth again, the weight was lifted. His crassness is next level. I might use some of the scenarios he mentioned as material later, but I’d never give in to someone so… crude.
I’ve already texted Cici that I’ll have a fun story for everyone and that my connection is on schedule. I’m so excited to see her that it overrides my irritation from earlier. This flight is only an hour, so it’ll go quickly while I read. It’s too bad I won’t have any champagne, but that’s okay since I’ll be drinking again tonight.
When I arrive at the gate, hardly anyone is left to board, which means I timed it perfectly. Passing first class, I can’t help but discreetly scan the seats in search of him. Oddly enough, he’s nowhere to be found. Hmm, there could be more than one flight to San Diego.
It is a big city after all, which I’m looking forward to, coming from small-town Bozeman. I’ve never been to San Diego and am excited to stay at the Hotel del Coronado right on the beach. I love the mountains of Montana, but I’m eager to be near the ocean. Just thinking about it puts a smile on my face.
Seconds later, that smile disappears when I make it to my row and see a familiar face. Suits? I double-check the numbers above to confirm that it’s correct and that he is, in fact, next tomyseat.
When I stop, he stands, donning a devastating grin. “Let me help you,” he says, taking the carry-on and lifting it into the overhead bin.
“Why are you back here?” I whisper aggressively.
He wraps his arm around me and leans in, his lips dangerously close to my ear, causing goose bumps to break out everywhere.
“Is that any way to greet your fiancé?”
I extract myself forcefully. “What are you talking about?”
“How else could I convince the person next to you to change seats with me?” He smiles again, almost making me forget to be annoyed.
When he sits, I have no choice but to do the same since the people behind me are anxious to move past.
“I would think the opportunity to be in first class would have been enough. Seriously, why would you do that, and how did you find out where I was sitting?”
“They looked you up from your seat on the last flight, and with a little persuasion, they paged the guy next to you so I could ask him to switch with me. And yes, first class probably would have convinced him, but this was way more fun. The gate agents were highly entertained.” He smirks as if he’s so clever, and I can’t stop the eye roll.
One thing’s for sure. He’s persistent.
“I need to finish the book. Unless you were hoping I’d keep trying to get in your pants.”
“Definitely not. If I hear one more cheesy pick-up line, I might throw up in your lap.”
“Well, we certainly can’t have that since I’d ratheryoube in my lap later.” He wags his brows.
All I can do is groan and shake my head. This is going to be a long flight.
After making the same deal as last time, he shuts up, and we continue reading. It was going perfectly until we made it to a sex scene. Usually, when I read around other people, I zone out. Sometimes I catch myself panting, but I always rein it in.
Right now, that’s impossible. When I try to flip past it, he brushes my hand away. “What are you doing?” we both ask at once.
I answer first. “It’s not necessary to the story. We can skip to the next part.”
“No way, it’ll mess with the flow.”
“Either we move on or stop altogether.”
He lasers in, salaciously. “Are you afraid you might get aroused? Will it have you wet and aching? I’m right here, Little Mouse. I could help you out with that.”
Oh my God. Of all that’s holy. Who says those kinds of things? Men don’t talk like that in real life—do they? And why, oh why, is my body respondingto this creep?
Shaking the unwanted thoughts away, I reply, addressing the easier topic. “I am not a mouse. Don’t be so condescending.”
“Then don’t act like one by skipping the good stuff. You know it’s your favorite part. I could tell by how angry you were when I interrupted the last scene.”
“That is not why I was angry.” I deny his claim, despite knowing that that’s exactly why I was irritated.
