“Al—” I whined his name louder than I meant to, and he slipped his hand over my mouth.
“Shh. That’s it. Come for me,” he whispered in my ear, then nipped on the lobe with his flat teeth, giving it a soft tug.
I shattered, my pussy clenching Alistair’s fingers and my moans muffled by his hand clamped tight over my mouth. He worked me through my orgasm, and I vibrated with little jolts of pleasure until his fingers finally stilled. His hand slid from my mouth down to my chin. Forcing me to meet his gaze, he pulled his other hand from my leggings, then put his slick fingers into his mouth, sucking and savoring the taste like I was his favorite dessert.
My lips parted in awe before turning up with a coy smile.
Alistair leaned in until our mouths almost touched, then whispered, “Good. Fucking. Girl.”
* * *
Because we were flyingfirst class, checking in my luggage and getting through security was a relatively painless process. Initially, I’d felt bad about Alistair springing for a first class ticket, but it made a little more sense now—especially since he was flying with me. If I knew anything about flying economy from the movies I’d seen, it was that space was limited. For a massive minotaur, it just didn’t work.
“How are you feeling?” Alistair asked while we were waiting to board.
“Well.” I could feel my cheeks getting red. “Thanks to the meds and what happened in the car ride, I’m feeling nice and relaxed.”
I couldn’t believe I was standing there with him, about to board a plane for the first time in my life.
It was surreal, almost too good to be true, but that’s how most things were with Alistair.
There was a ding overhead and the crackle of a microphone. “Group one for the four p.m. flight to Denver is now boarding at Gate C17. Group one for the four p.m. flight to Denver is now boarding at Gate C17. Please have your ticket or cell phone ready.”
“That’s us, sweetheart. You ready?” he asked, hiking Remi’s carrier over his shoulder.
I nodded. “About as ready as I’ll ever be.” Having him with me made the whole thing much less overwhelming.
The flight attendant smiled at us while she scanned our tickets. “Have a wonderful flight.”
We walked down the loading bridge and onto the plane, with Alistair ducking through the doorway to accommodate his horns.
“Here we are,” he said, stopping at two cushy lounge seats with plenty of legroom.
“Wow, this is really nice.”
He laughed and shook his head. “If you think this is nice, you should see what first class looks like on an international flight.”
An international flight.
Nope. Even with Xanax and an orgasm, there was no way I could make it on a flight that long.
The five-hour flight to Denver was enough.
“Why don’t you take the window seat.”
My face must have given away what I was thinking.
“I promise it’s safe. I want you to enjoy the view. When we get closer to Denver, you can really see the Rockies.”
“Alright, but if that window busts, you better hold me tight so I don’t get sucked out.”
“Pamela!” he chuckled, his head swiveling around to make sure no one heard us. “Don’t talk about those sorts of things happening!”
Giving him a smug grin, I slipped into my seat. “Am I embarrassing you, the unshakeable and effortlessly cool Alistair Reid?”
Thoughtfully, he tilted his head to the side and gently kissed my forehead. “You could never embarrass me, Pamela Rollins. I just don’t want them siccing the air marshals on us.” He took his seat and brought Remi’s carrier up to his face. “How ya doin' in there, little buddy? I promise we’ll let you out as soon as we get to my place.”
Remi responded with a pitiful meow. He really wasn’t phased by much, but this was the most time he’d spent in a cat carrier since I’d rescued him two years ago.
