He muttered, “Fuck,” under his breath like there was something wrong, and I barely resisted asking what was the matter. He hadn’t been talking to me. I couldn’t kill the fantasy by asking questions, but it was messing with my head.
“We were supposed to talk first,” he said tightly, like it was a struggle to get the words out.
Oh fuck me, that’s a sexy voice.
He cleared his throat.
“I’m okay to go straight into the fantasy if you are,” I said softly, then in a loud, pleading voice I added, “No, please. There’s been a mistake. Let me go!” I twisted my hips back and forth as much as I could with my arms tied in front of me to give him a good show. I parted my thighs, letting him catch a glimpse of the strip of fabric barely covering my pussy.
Could he see how wet I was?
He was absolutely silent and still on the other side of the plane and it was throwing me off. Was he just nervous?
I heard him stand and tensed for him to touch me, but his hands pulled the bondage cuffs until my wrists were free, then he tugged me to a standing position. I stayed perfectly still and left the blindfold on, unsure whether this was part of the fantasy.
I was standing in front of him nearly naked, nipples pebbled and pussy practically dripping I wanted him to touch me so badly.
“I can’t do this,” he said roughly and my stomach dropped.
I shaved my legs for you, mister!
The prospect of going home rejected and not sleeping was too much to bear, but I didn’t want to push the issue if he wasn’t interested. I just needed to get the fuck off the plane without humiliating myself by crying.
I reached for the blindfold but he grabbed my wrist.
Oh. Right. He wants to stay anonymous.
His touch didn’t feel like someone who couldn’t do this. He didn’t let go of me for a long second, and I heard him take a deep breath.
There was a rustle and then he gently pulled my wrists until I was holding my arms above my head, having to bend my elbows because I was brushing the ceiling. Before I could figure out what he was doing, he slid what felt like my dress over my arms and down over my head without disturbing the blindfold.
He was putting my dress back on?
He ever so slowly pulled the dress down until it was covering my breasts, fabric sliding over my nipples tantalizingly as he tugged it all the way down to my thighs.
He sat down heavily and said, “Take the blindfold off.”
This just kept getting weirder and weirder.
I pulled the blindfold off and physically started back like it was some kind of trick. Zane was sitting on the couch across from me.
The man of both my dreams and my nightmares.
My first love.
The one who’d nearly broken me.
I scowled.
The man who’d written that song to gloat about my humiliation.
There was a long pause where we both just stared at each other.
Holy fuck he looked good. He’d been handsome before, but his presence had only gotten stronger. I’d been trying to avoid looking at him at Alex’s house, but now he was right in front of me. He was bigger, more imposing and I was way too into it. He had his hair pulled back into a high bun, and it was a good look on him.
Stop checking him out!
I scrambled for something,anythingto say.
