His brow furrowed slightly, a barely perceptible coldness flashing through those gray eyes. "Right before your wedding?"
"Yes. And you know what the most ridiculous part is?" I laughed bitterly, the alcohol starting to work through my bloodstream, making me bolder. "He actually texted me to lose weight, said I took up too much space, wasn't photogenic enough."
I glanced down at my full chest and thighs. "Maybe he was right. This damn hourglass figure really is hard to squeeze into those size-zero couture dresses."
"Look at me."
He spoke suddenly, his voice dropping.
I turned my head instinctively and met those dark gray eyes. The amusement had vanished completely, replaced by a dangerously focused intensity.
"Any man who complains that you 'take up too much space' is only saying it because he's too weak to handle you." His gaze felt like tangible flame, unabashedly traveling from my face down, brazenly surveying my chest, waist, and hips before returning to my eyes. "You're not too much. You're a weapon. You were built to be gripped tight, to be obsessed over by a real man. That boy has no idea what he just lost."
Something exploded in my head.
His gaze was too hot, burning until my whole body went soft. The narrow space between our seats felt like it had turned into a vacuum, the air crackling with lethal static.
I'd always craved validation. And in this moment, my body and dreams—constantly diminished by that bastard—were glowing under this man's predatory stare.
Alcohol burned through my veins. My rationality was crumbling piece by piece.
Just then, the plane jolted hard, hitting a strong patch of turbulence.
"Shit!" I snapped back to reality with a gasp, nearly spilling my champagne.
He reacted instantly, his large hand shooting out to grab my wrist and steady my glass. "Don't panic. Just turbulence."
The plane shook for only a moment before smoothingout again.
But his hand remained wrapped around my wrist. His thumb gently traced where my pulse throbbed.
That rough, burning touch made my heartbeat skip.
The captain's voice came over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've cleared the turbulence. You're free to use the lavatories, but for your safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened when seated. Thank you."
"Go clean up in the bathroom." His voice was even rougher now, his gaze deep enough to drown in.
He finally released my wrist.
I pulled my hand back, face flushed, but that burning sensation lingered on my skin.
That look.
God.
He wanted to devour me whole.
And I—
I wanted it too.
The thought struck like lightning.
I was still hungover.
I'd just been dumped by my fiancé.
I'd spent twelve hundred dollars on this first-class seat.
