That’s all it takes and I’m seeing stars at the edges of my vision. My fingers curl into the curve of her ass as I hold her hips in place. As her orgasm ripples around me and the sound of her moans fill my head, I come so hard I feel like I might pass out.
My head falls forward, resting against her breastbone, and she wraps her arms around me, resting her chin on my head. We stay there, joined together as we both try to catch our breath, and all I can think is,It’s never like this.
I clean her up and pull her against me in bed, and I’m pretty sure she’s asleep before I’ve even thrown the covers over us. I lie there, one arm circled around her lower back as she cuddles into me, thinking how perfect she is for me. I only wish I could be perfect for her, too.
Guilt nearly overwhelms me when I remember that when she asked me what I wanted, I said I wantedher. The way she fucked me after that felt different than what we’ve shared before. It felt like she knew there was an enormousbutcoming after that statement.
I want you...butI can’t have you.
And that’s when I realize that this whole relationship feels like it’s come full circle. It started with sex, and now I worry that it’s ending with sex, too.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
MORGAN
“Please tell me that’s not airport sushi,” AJ says, glancing down at the plastic container I just opened in the seat next to hers on the Rebels’ plane.
Even though it’s midmorning, I’m still not quite awake. I fell asleep before the plane even took off, which makes sense given that I barely slept at all last night. When I curled into Aidan in bed, closing my eyes and slowing my breathing so he’d think I was asleep, it took everything in me to keep from sobbing. Despite the fact that the sex was amazing, as always, it felt like we were saying goodbye.
How could it not? When I’d asked him what he wanted, he hadn’t said anything about our relationship. He’d just saidI want you, while looking like he was feral for me, and then pulling me to him before we used each other for sex. There were no emotions, no declarations like I’d gotten used to while we were in Ember Cove. Last night, it felt like he was already pulling away.
I don’t know what I’d expected. He said he doesn’t do relationships. He told me, over and over again, that what we had was not monogamous nor did it imply any long-term commitment. And somehow, just like I always do, I’d convincedmyself that he’d eventually admit that there were actual feelings involved, and he’dchoose me. But he didn’t. He chose sex with me, as if that was the same thing.
“It’s fine,” I tell AJ through a yawn. I’m having a hard time waking up after my much-needed nap, and just want to close my eyes again. Except I’m starving and won’t be able to fall back asleep when I’m this hungry. “I get sushi at the airport all the time.”
“You have no idea how long that had been sitting there before you bought it,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “And now you’ve had it on the plane for hours, unrefrigerated.”
“This planeisa refrigerator, which is why we’re both bundled up,” I say, indicating my zip-up cardigan and AJ’s suit jacket. Then I hold the container up to my nose. “This smells perfectly fine.”
“I really hope you don’t regret that,” she says, then goes back to working on her laptop while I eat. I should get some work done, too. I still have hours of client work to finish up by the end of the day, but I’m too tired. So, once I’ve finished eating, I sit back in the comfy seat, close my eyes, and let the hum of the engine lull me back to sleep.
When the wheels hit the ground about two hours later, I nearly jolt out of my seat. It’s not the shock of waking up during landing, it’s my roiling stomach and churning intestines. I breathe through my nose as the plane slows, and by the time we make the turn off the runway, taxiing toward the terminal, I know I can’t wait to use the bathroom.
I jolt out of my seat, stepping past AJ, who looks up at me in surprise, as I make my way forward to the bathroom.
“Ma’am,” the flight attendant says as I approach, “the seatbelt sign is on. I need you to return to your seat.”
“I’m going to be sick,” I say, throwing open the bathroom door and barely getting it closed and locked behind me beforeI’m on my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the small toilet.
I’ve always hated being sick, but being sick in an airplane bathroom, within earshot of my colleagues chatting right on the other side of the bathroom door as they wait to get off the plane, is a special kind of torture. I lose track of how many times I flush the toilet, because there doesn’t seem to be any end to how much partially digested food wants to leave my body.
By the time I finally stop vomiting, it’s quiet enough that I worry everyone may have forgotten I was in here. Am I going to find myself locked inside this plane? And if so, who the hell do I call to get me out?
I wash and dry my hands, then use the wet paper towel to wipe the dried streaks of tears off my face. I think vomiting has overheated me, because my whole body feels clammy from the thin coat of sweat covering my skin. I need to get the hell out of here and get home before I get sick again. I can tell by the gurgling in my stomach that it’s only a matter of time.
When I push open the door, the plane is quiet. But when I turn to head back to my seat, I notice the door is still open, and the stairs are still pushed up against the plane, so at least I’m not locked in. And, right ahead of me, sitting in the aisle seats in the first row, are the flight attendant, and Aidan Renaud.
Fuck my life.
He lifts an eyebrow as he says, “You survived?”
“Barely.” I turn toward the flight attendant. “I think you may need a hazmat team to clean that bathroom.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile. “That is the protocol in this situation.”
“AJ said you ate bad sushi?” Aidan says.
“In my defense, I didn’t think it was bad when I ate it.”
