I feel heat crawl up my spine as I set my glass down slowly. Zaria’s eyes track me as I rise from my seat. She already knows. I move down the narrow aisle deliberately and stop behind Calil’s chair. He glances up at me, curious.
I lean forward.
Close enough that my breath brushes his ear.
“I can’t keep my eyes off you,” I murmur, voice low and controlled. “You know that?”
His eyes close immediately. A deep timber moan eases from his full lips. His head drops back against the seat. My hands settle on his shoulders—slowly—intentional. I drag my palms down over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the linen.
“We can’t wait to have you in our mouths,” I continue softly, my lips hovering just beside his ear. “Buried deep. Taking every thrust.”
His breathing shifts.
“You so fucking fine,” I whisper. “And you love us so fucking good.”
Zaria shifts in her seat across from him. Her legs cross slowly. Her arousal evident between her thighs and her gaze is dark with want.
“Look at your Z Baby,” I say, letting my fingers trail lower across his abdomen. “Her arousal for you is showing.”
His jaw tightens.
I lean closer.
“I’m not sure we can wait to land,” I murmur, glancing down at his lap before lifting my eyes back to his face. “And I don’t think you can either.”
His hand comes up, gripping my wrist—not to stop me, but to anchor himself.
“Y’all playing dangerous,” he says, voice thick but steady.
I smile faintly. “Maybe. Maybe we’re just showing our appreciation.”
Zaria rises and makes her way in front of him.
“We’ve got hours in the sky,” she says smoothly. “And privacy.”
Calil’s gaze flicks between us. It’s measured and hungry.
“You two think you running me in this cabin?” he asks quietly.
I lean down again as my lips brush just beneath his ear.
“No,” I whisper, “we know you are.”
The tension between us tightens like a wire pulled so tightly that it’s teetering on the edge of snapping. Outside the windows clouds drift peacefully. Inside the cabin—heat climbs with intensity. Our five days in Costa Rica haven’t even started. And already, none of us are pretending to behave.
Calil’s hand is still wrapped around my wrist, his thumb slowly circling the inside like he’s deciding whether to let me continue or pull me into his lap.
“You know what you’re doing?” his eyes lift to meet mine as he challenges me quietly.
I tilt my head. “Do I?”
His gaze flicks briefly toward the closed curtain separating us from the front of the jet.
“You asking for trouble at thirty thousand feet.”
Zaria leans against the side of his seat. “You love trouble when it’s dressed up pretty,” her voice smooth.
His jaw tightens visibly as he exhales.
