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After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
🦈 Pool toys are boring. Floating rings. Sinking sticks. This remote control shark DIVES and SWIMS just like a real shark – gliding through the water, chasing fingers, surprising everyone. Waterproof. Rechargeable. Perfect for pool parties, bath time, or grandparents' hot tub (with permission). The coolest toy under $30. ✨ REALISTIC SWIMMING ACTION. EASY REMOTE CONTROL. WATERPROOF. RECHARGEABLE. THE ULTIMATE POOL TOY FOR KIDS AND KIDS AT HEART. Remote Control Diving Shark Toy — Interactive pool and bath fun. ✅ Realistic swimming action – mimics natural shark movements – dives and swims realistically in water – endless entertainment – engages children in interactive play with lifelike aquatic motion ✅ Easy remote control – user-friendly remote – kids effortlessly maneuver shark's diving and swimming actions – simple, intuitive controls – enhances play experience ✅ Waterproof construction – built from high-quality, durable materials – withstands frequent water play – long-lasting fun in pools, bathtubs, or lakes ✅ Great for multiple settings – perfect for swimming pools, bath time, family vacations, lake houses, and beach trips – indoor or outdoor water fun ✅ Perfect gift – ideal for birthdays, holidays, or special occasions – interactive entertainment – thoughtful and exciting gift choice for boys and girls 🔋 Battery: 3.7V Lithium – 50 min charge – approx 6 min runtime – rechargeable 📦 Material: ABS – durable and safe 🔥 50% OFF NOW – limited time! 👇 BRING THE OCEAN TO YOUR POOL. GET YOUR RC SHARK TODAY. https://blessrich.com/products/ghauikid
🦈 Pool toys are boring. Floating rings. Sinking sticks. This remote control shark DIVES and SWIMS just like a real shark – gliding through the water, chasing fingers, surprising everyone. Waterproof. Rechargeable. Perfect for pool parties, bath time, or grandparents' hot tub (with permission). The coolest toy under $30. ✨ REALISTIC SWIMMING ACTION. EASY REMOTE CONTROL. WATERPROOF. RECHARGEABLE. THE ULTIMATE POOL TOY FOR KIDS AND KIDS AT HEART. Remote Control Diving Shark Toy — Interactive pool and bath fun. ✅ Realistic swimming action – mimics natural shark movements – dives and swims realistically in water – endless entertainment – engages children in interactive play with lifelike aquatic motion ✅ Easy remote control – user-friendly remote – kids effortlessly maneuver shark's diving and swimming actions – simple, intuitive controls – enhances play experience ✅ Waterproof construction – built from high-quality, durable materials – withstands frequent water play – long-lasting fun in pools, bathtubs, or lakes ✅ Great for multiple settings – perfect for swimming pools, bath time, family vacations, lake houses, and beach trips – indoor or outdoor water fun ✅ Perfect gift – ideal for birthdays, holidays, or special occasions – interactive entertainment – thoughtful and exciting gift choice for boys and girls 🔋 Battery: 3.7V Lithium – 50 min charge – approx 6 min runtime – rechargeable 📦 Material: ABS – durable and safe 🔥 50% OFF NOW – limited time! 👇 BRING THE OCEAN TO YOUR POOL. GET YOUR RC SHARK TODAY. https://blessrich.com/products/ghauikid
🦈 Pool toys are boring. Floating rings. Sinking sticks. This remote control shark DIVES and SWIMS just like a real shark – gliding through the water, chasing fingers, surprising everyone. Waterproof. Rechargeable. Perfect for pool parties, bath time, or grandparents' hot tub (with permission). The coolest toy under $30. ✨ REALISTIC SWIMMING ACTION. EASY REMOTE CONTROL. WATERPROOF. RECHARGEABLE. THE ULTIMATE POOL TOY FOR KIDS AND KIDS AT HEART. Remote Control Diving Shark Toy — Interactive pool and bath fun. ✅ Realistic swimming action – mimics natural shark movements – dives and swims realistically in water – endless entertainment – engages children in interactive play with lifelike aquatic motion ✅ Easy remote control – user-friendly remote – kids effortlessly maneuver shark's diving and swimming actions – simple, intuitive controls – enhances play experience ✅ Waterproof construction – built from high-quality, durable materials – withstands frequent water play – long-lasting fun in pools, bathtubs, or lakes ✅ Great for multiple settings – perfect for swimming pools, bath time, family vacations, lake houses, and beach trips – indoor or outdoor water fun ✅ Perfect gift – ideal for birthdays, holidays, or special occasions – interactive entertainment – thoughtful and exciting gift choice for boys and girls 🔋 Battery: 3.7V Lithium – 50 min charge – approx 6 min runtime – rechargeable 📦 Material: ABS – durable and safe 🔥 50% OFF NOW – limited time! 👇 BRING THE OCEAN TO YOUR POOL. GET YOUR RC SHARK TODAY. https://blessrich.com/products/ghauikid
🦈 Pool toys are boring. Floating rings. Sinking sticks. This remote control shark DIVES and SWIMS just like a real shark – gliding through the water, chasing fingers, surprising everyone. Waterproof. Rechargeable. Perfect for pool parties, bath time, or grandparents' hot tub (with permission). The coolest toy under $30. ✨ REALISTIC SWIMMING ACTION. EASY REMOTE CONTROL. WATERPROOF. RECHARGEABLE. THE ULTIMATE POOL TOY FOR KIDS AND KIDS AT HEART. Remote Control Diving Shark Toy — Interactive pool and bath fun. ✅ Realistic swimming action – mimics natural shark movements – dives and swims realistically in water – endless entertainment – engages children in interactive play with lifelike aquatic motion ✅ Easy remote control – user-friendly remote – kids effortlessly maneuver shark's diving and swimming actions – simple, intuitive controls – enhances play experience ✅ Waterproof construction – built from high-quality, durable materials – withstands frequent water play – long-lasting fun in pools, bathtubs, or lakes ✅ Great for multiple settings – perfect for swimming pools, bath time, family vacations, lake houses, and beach trips – indoor or outdoor water fun ✅ Perfect gift – ideal for birthdays, holidays, or special occasions – interactive entertainment – thoughtful and exciting gift choice for boys and girls 🔋 Battery: 3.7V Lithium – 50 min charge – approx 6 min runtime – rechargeable 📦 Material: ABS – durable and safe 🔥 50% OFF NOW – limited time! 👇 BRING THE OCEAN TO YOUR POOL. GET YOUR RC SHARK TODAY. https://blessrich.com/products/ghauikid
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After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
🚨 MAY HALF-TERM FOOTBALL CAMP 🚨 Looking for the perfect way to keep your child active this half-term while developing with one of London’s leading elite football academies? ⚽🔥 Our Elite London Academy May Half-Term Camp is BACK — led by professional academy coaches with a proven track record of developing players and helping over 100 players sign for professional clubs 🏆 📍 Linford Christie Stadium, W12 📅 Tuesday 27th May – Friday 30th May ⏰ 10 a.m. – 3 p.m. 👥 U6 – U14 ✅ Technical training ✅ Matches & tournaments ✅ Elite coaching environment ✅ Professional academy-level sessions ✅ Fun, high-energy atmosphere 💰 £40 per day 💰 £150 full week 🔥 EARLY BIRD: £130 ⚠️ Spaces are limited and always fill quickly. 📲 Register now via the link in our bio: https://forms.gle/vUY91GTa9WbksHNb7 #EliteLondonAcademy #ELA #FootballCamp #LondonFootball #HalfTermCamp YouthFootball FootballAcademy PlayerDevelopment FootballTraining FutureStars
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I met a gorgeous blue-eyed stranger on a plane. After two glasses of wine, I made the worst confession possible. “I haven’t had s3x in eighteen months.” His jaw dropped. “Eighteen months? That’s unacceptable.” I groaned. “Why am I telling you this? You’re just some random guy.” He leaned in, voice low and amused. “Not random,” he murmured. “I’m the man who plans to fix that.” ----------------- “I’ve upgraded you. First class, enjoy your flight." Oh, thank God. Finally, some good news. I’ve just spent the last forty-eight hours in hell. I flew across the world to go to a wedding, only to watch my ex-boyfriend drape himself over his new girlfriend. And the bad weather delayed most flights. “Thank you so much,” I gush. He gives me a wink, and I could just reach over and hug him. But of course I won’t. I’ll pretend that cool things like this happen to me every day. “Thanks again.” I smile. “You have access to the VIP lounge, which is located on level one. Lunch and drinks are on the house in there. Have a safe flight.” With one last smile, he looks back to the line. “Next, please.” I walk through the baggage checks with a huge goofy grin on my face. First class—just what the doctor ordered. Three hours later, I walk onto the plane like a rock star. I didn’t end up going into the VIP lounge because, well ... I look like crap. My long dark hair is up in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing black leggings, a baggy pink sweater, and tennis shoes, but I did fix my makeup a little, so that’s something. If I had known I was going to be upgraded, I would have at least tried to look the part and worn something swanky instead of looking like a homeless person. But anyway... who cares? It’s not like I’m going to see anyone I know. I hand my ticket over to the flight attendant. “Just through the left aisle and to the right.” “Thanks.” I look at my ticket and walk through the plane and see my number. 1B. Damn it, I don’t have a window. I get to my seat, and a man sitting next to the window turns to me. Big blue eyes greet me, and he smiles. “Hello.” “Hi,” I say. Oh no ... I’m sitting next to God’s gift to women... only he’s hotter. I look like shit. Fuck it. I open the overhead, and he stands. “Here, let me.” He takes my bag from me and carefully places it up. He’s tall and built and wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt; he smells like the best aftershave in history. “Thanks,” I murmur as I pull my hand through my ponytail, trying to smooth out the knots. I mentally kick myself for not wearing something better. “Do you want the window seat?” he asks. I stare at him as my brain misfires. He gestures to the seat beside the window. “You don’t mind?” I frown. “Not at all.” He smiles. “I fly all the time. You can have it.” I force a smile. “Thanks.” That was code for “I know you got upgraded, you poor homeless person, and I feel sorry for you.” I sit down in my seat and look nervously out the window, with my hands clasped in front of me on my lap. “Are you going home?” he asks. I turn to him. Oh, please don’t talk to me. You make me nervous just sitting there. “No, I’ve been at a wedding, and I have a job interview in New York on the way home. I’m only there for the day, and then I fly out again to LA. I live there.” “Ah.” He smiles. “I see.” I stare at him for a moment; I should ask him a question now. “Are ... you going home?” I say. “Yes.” I nod, unsure what to say next, so I choose the lame option and stare back out the window. The attendant walks around with a bottle of champagne and glasses. Glasses. Since when do airlines give you a real glass? Oh right, first class. I knew that. “Would you like some champagne to take off with, sir?” the flight attendant asks him. I notice that her name tag says JESSICA. “That would be lovely.” He smiles and turns to me. “Make that two, please.” I frown as she pours two glasses of champagne and passes one to him and one to me. “Thank you.” I smile. I wait for Jessica to move out of earshot. “Do you always order drinks for other people?” I ask. He looks surprised by my statement. “Did it bother you?” “Not at all,” I huff. Damn this Mr. Fancy Pants for thinking he can order for me. “I do like to order my own drinks, though.” He smiles. “Well, you can order the next ones, then.” He raises his glass to me and smirks; then he takes a sip. He seems amused by my annoyance. I stare at him deadpan. This could be victim number two of my cutting today. I am not in the mood for some rich old bastard to boss me around. I sip my champagne as I look out the window. Well, he’s not really old. Maybe mid- to late thirties. I mean, old compared to me; I’m twenty-five. But whatever. “I’m Jim,” he says as he holds his hand out to shake mine. Oh God, now I have to be polite. I shake his hand. “Hi, Jim. I’m Emily.” His eyes dance with mischief. “Hello, Emily.” His eyes are big, bright blue, and dreamy, the kind I could get lost in. But why is he looking at me like that? The plane begins to travel slowly down the runway, and I look between the earphones and armrest. Where do these plug in? They’re high tech, the kind that overconfident YouTubers use. They don’t even have a cord. I look around. Well, this is stupid. How do I plug them in? “They’re Bluetooth,” Jim interrupts me. “Oh,” I mutter, feeling stupid. Of course they are. “Right.” “You haven’t flown first class before?” he asks. “No. I got an upgrade. I think the guy at the desk felt sorry for me.” I give him a lopsided smile. He rolls his lips as if amused and sips his champagne; his eyes linger on my face as if he has something on his mind. “What?” I ask. “Perhaps the guy at the desk thought you were gorgeous and upgraded you to try to impress you.” “I hadn’t thought of that.” I sip my champagne as I try to hide my smile. That’s an odd thing to say. “Is that what you would do?” I ask. “If you were at the desk, would you upgrade women to impress them?” “Absolutely.” I smirk. “Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues. I stare at him as I try to get my brain to keep up with the conversation. Why does that statement sound flirty? “And do tell ... how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?” I ask, fascinated. His eyes hold mine. “Offer her a window seat.” The air crackles between us, and I bite my lip to hide my goofy smile. “You’re trying to impress me?” I ask. Chapter 2 He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “How am I doing?” I smirk, unsure what to say. “I’m simply saying that you’re attractive, nothing more and nothing less. Don’t read into it. It was a statement, not a question.” “Oh.” I stare at him, lost for words. What do I even say to that? Statement, not a question ... huh? Don’t read into it. This guy is weird ... and utterly gorgeous. The plane begins to take off with speed, and I hold on to my armrests and scrunch my eyes shut. “You don’t like takeoffs?” he asks. “Do I look like I like takeoffs?” I wince as I hang on for dear life. “I love them,” he replies casually. “I love the feeling of power as it surges forward. That g-force throwback.” Okay ... why is everything coming out of his mouth sounding s3xual? God, I need to get laid ... stat. I exhale and stare out the window as we go higher and higher. I don’t have the energy for this guy to play cute today. I’m tired, I’m hungover, I look crappy, and my ex is a douche. I want to go to sleep and wake up next year. I decide I’ll watch a movie. I begin to flick through the choices on the screen in front of me. He leans over and says, “Great minds think alike. I’m watching a movie too.” I fake a smile. Just stop being all hot and in my space. You’re probably married to a vegan yoga nut who does meditation and shit. “Great,” I mutter deadpan. I should have flown coach; at least I wouldn’t have had to inhale the scent of beautiful man for eight long, sexless hours. I scroll through my screen and then narrow it down to my choices. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Pride and Prejudice. The Heat. Jumanji ... well, that has the Rock in it—it has to be good. Notting Hill. The Proposal. 50 First Dates. Bridget Jones’s Diary. Pretty Woman. Sleepless in Seattle. Magic Mike XXL. I smile at the choices, all of my favorites lined in a row; this flight is going to be a dream. I haven’t seen the sequel to Magic Mike yet, so I might start with that one. I glance over to look at what Jim has picked, and I see the heading come up. Lincoln. Ugh ... a political movie. Who watches that stuff for fun? I should have known he’d be boring. He reaches up and taps the screen, and I catch sight of his watch. A chunky silver Rolex. Ugh, and he has money too. Typical. “What are you going to watch?” he asks. Oh no ... I don’t want to appear ditzy. “I’m not sure yet,” I reply. Damn you ... I want to watch men strip. “What are you watching?” I ask. “Lincoln. I’ve been meaning to see it for a long time.” “Sounds boring,” I say. He smiles at my answer. “I’ll let you know.” He puts his earphones on and begins to watch his movie, and I scroll through my choices again. I really want to watch Magic Mike XXL. Does it matter if he sees? No ... that’s just embarrassing. It makes me look desperate. Who am I kidding? I am desperate. I haven’t seen a d1ck in over a year. I tap on The Proposal. I’ll swap one fantasy for another. I’ve always dreamed of having Ryan Reynolds as my personal assistant. The movie begins, and I smile at the screen. I love this movie. No matter how many times I watch it, I always laugh. Gammy is my favorite. “You’re watching a romance?” he asks. “A rom-com,” I reply. For God’s sake, this guy is nosy. He smirks as if he’s better than me. “More champagne?” the flight attendant asks. Blue Eyes looks over at me. “Here’s your chance to order for us.” I stare at him flatly; all right, he’s beginning to piss me off now. “We’ll have two, please.” “What do you like about rom-coms?” he asks as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him. “Men who don’t talk during movies,” I whisper into my champagne glass. He smiles broadly to himself. “What do you like about ...” I pause because I don’t even know what Lincoln is about. “Political films?” I ask. “The fact that they’re boring as all hell?” “I just like true stories, regardless of what they are.” “So do I,” I reply. “That’s why I like romance. Love is true.” He chuckles into his glass as if amused. I glance over at him. “What does that mean?” “Rom-coms are as far from reality as you can get. I bet you’re the type who reads trashy romance novels too.” I stare at him flatly. I think I hate this man. “I am, actually ... and if you must know, I’m watching Magic Mike XXL after this so I can watch gorgeous men take their clothes off.” I sip my champagne in annoyance. “And I’ll smile through the whole damn thing, regardless of your snooty judgment.” He laughs out loud, and it’s deep and strong and does things to my stomach. I put my headphones back on and pretend to focus on my screen. I can’t, though, because I just totally embarrassed myself, and I can feel myself blushing. Stop talking. Two hours later, I sit and stare out the window. My movie is over, but his scent is not. It’s surrounding me, taunting me with things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. How does he smell so good? Unsure what to do without seeming awkward, I decide I’ll take a nap, try to sleep through the next few hours, but first I need to go to the bathroom. I stand. “Excuse me.” He moves his legs a little but not enough for me to fit through, and I have to lean over him to get past. I stumble and fall and put my hand on his thigh; it’s large and hard to my touch. “I’m so sorry,” I stammer, embarrassed. “That’s fine.” He smirks up at me. “More than fine.” I stare at him for a moment. Huh? “There’s a method to my madness.” I frown. What does that mean? I make my way past him and go to the bathroom, and then I walk around and stretch my legs a little as I ponder that statement. I’m stumped—I’ve got nothing. “What did you mean by that?” I ask as I fall back into my seat. “Nothing.” “Did you give me the window seat so I would have to climb over you?” He tilts his head to the side. “No, I gave you the window seat because you wanted it. Climbing over me was just an added bonus.” I stare at him as I struggle to respond. Am I imagining this? Older rich guys don’t usually speak to me like this ... at all. “Are you flirting with me, Jim?” I ask. He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “I don’t know. Am I?” “I asked you first, and don’t answer my question with a question.” He smirks as he turns his attention back to the television screen. “This is probably where you should start flirting back ... Emily.” I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I try to hide my stupid smile. “I don’t flirt. I either want a man or I don’t,” I announce. “Is that so?” he says as if fascinated. “And how long after you meet a man do you make that decision?” “Instantaneously,” I lie. That’s not true, but I’ll pretend. Faking confidence is my superpower. “Really?” he whispers as the flight attendant walks past us. “Excuse me, can we have two more champagnes, please?” he asks her. “Of course, sir.” His eyes come back to meet mine. “Well, do tell. What was your first impression of me?” I pretend to look around for Jessica the flight attendant. “You may need something stronger to drink to hear this, Jim. You’re not going to like it.” He laughs out loud, and I find myself smiling broadly as I watch him. “What’s funny?” I ask. “You are.” “Why am I funny?” I frown. “This sense of righteousness that you have.” “Oh, like you don’t have that too ... Mr. I’ll Have Two Champagnes.” Our drinks arrive, and he smiles as he passes mine to me. His eyes linger on my face as he takes a sip. “What were you doing in London?” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “I flew over for a friend’s wedding, and to be honest, I wish I hadn’t gone.” “Why not?” “My ex was there with his new squeeze, and he was being over-the-top affectionate with her to piss me off.” “Which worked, obviously,” he adds as he tilts his glass toward me. “Hmm.” I sip my drink in disgust. “Just a little.” “What did she look like?” “Long bleached-blonde hair and huge silicone lips and boobs and eyelashes and fake tan and everything I’m not.” “Hmm.” He listens intently. “Like Backseat Barbie on crack.” He chuckles. “Everyone loves a Backseat Barbie.” I look over at him in disgust. “This is probably where you should tell me that all men hate Backseat Barbies, Jim. Don’t you know anything about polite plane-conversation etiquette?” “Obviously not.” He frowns as he considers my statement. “Why would I do that?” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point. “To be nice.” “Oh, right.” He frowns as if bracing himself to lie. “Emily ... all men are repulsed by Backseat Barbies.” I smile as I tip my glass to him. “Thank you, Jim.” “Although ...” He pauses for a moment. “If they give good head ...” What the hell? I snort my champagne up my nose and choke. That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of his mouth. “Jim,” I splutter as it sprays everywhere. He laughs as he grabs his napkins and hands them over, and I wipe the drink dribbling from my chin. “Men who look like you are not supposed to talk about head.” I cough. “Why not?” he asks incredulously. “And what do you mean, men who look like me?” “All serious and stuff.” He looks at me deadpan. “Define stuff.” “You know, older, rich, and bossy.” His eyes dance with delight. “And what gives you the impression that I’m rich and bossy?” I exhale in an overexaggerated way. “You look rich.” “How do I?” “Your fancy watch. The cut of your shirt.” I glance down at his shoes. “I’ve never seen shoes like that before. Where did you even get those?” “In a shop, Emily.” He looks at his watch. “And I’ll have you know that this watch was a gift from a girlfriend.” I roll my eyes. “I bet she’s a vegan yoga nut.” He smirks. “I know your type of woman.” “Really.” He leans closer. “Please go on—this character analysis is fascinating.” I smile as a little voice from my subconscious screams, Stop drinking, fool! “I’m assuming you live in New York.” “Correct.” “In an apartment.” “Affirmative.” “You probably work at some ritzy company.” He smiles; he likes this game. “Perhaps.” “You would have a girlfriend or ...” I glance down. “You don’t wear a wedding ring ... so perhaps you cheat on your wife when you travel for work?” He chuckles. “You really should make a profession out of this. I’m amazed at the accuracy.” I like this game too; I smile broadly. “What do you think about me?” I ask. “What was your first impression when I walked onto the plane?” “Well.” He frowns as he considers the question. “Do you want the politically correct version?” “No. I want the truth.” “Right ... well, in that case, I noticed your long legs and the curve of your neck. The dimple in your chin. You are the most attractive woman I’ve seen in a long time, and when you smiled, it brought me to my feet.” I smile softly as the air swirls between us. “And then you spoke ... and ruined everything.” Chapter 3 What? I burst out laughing. “I ruined everything? How did I ruin everything?” “You’re bossy, with a sarcastic snark.” “What’s the problem with that?” I stammer in outrage. “Well, I’m bossy and sarcastic.” He shrugs. “And?” “And I don’t want to date myself. I like sweet, demure girls, the ones who do what I say.” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “The ones who clean the house and have s3x on Saturdays.” “Precisely.” I laugh and hold my glass up to clink with his. “You’re not bad for a boring old guy with weird shoes.” He laughs. “And you’re not bad for a young, hot smart-ass.” “Do you want to watch Magic Mike XXL with me?” I ask. “I suppose, although I should let you know ... I am an ex-stripper myself, so this is nothing new for me.” “Really?” I try to hide my smile. “You’re good on a pole?” His eyes hold mine. “My pole work is the best in the country.” The air crackles between us, and I have to concentrate on stopping my inebriated mouth from saying something slutty. He pushes the screen and taps through to Magic Mike XXL ... and I smile broadly. This man is so unexpected. First class is definitely the way to fly. Six hours later “Okay, next question. The weirdest place you’ve ever had s3x?” he whispers. I smirk. “You can’t ask me that.” “Yes, I can. I just did.” “It’s rude.” “Says who?” He looks around. “It’s just a question, and nobody is listening.” Jim and I have talked and whispered and laughed our way through the entire flight. “Hmm.” I think out loud. “That’s a tough one.” “Why?” “I’m on a bit of a drought at the moment. I can hardly remember any s3x.” “How long?” He frowns. “Oh.” I look to the ceiling as I think. “I haven’t had s3x in like ... eighteen months.” His face falls in horror. “What?” “It’s lame, isn’t it?” I wince. “Very. You need to up your game. They’re very bad statistics, indeed.” “I know.” I giggle. Boy ... we’re so tipsy. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?” I whisper. “You’re just some random guy I met on a plane.” “Who happens to be very interested in the subject.” “Why is that?” He leans in and whispers to me so that the flight attendants can’t hear us. “I don’t understand how someone as hot as you doesn’t get fucked three times a day.” I stare at him as I feel a tingle all the way to my toes. Stop it. This guy is too old for me and so not my type. His eyes drop to my lips, and the air between us zaps with electricity. “How long are you in New York?” he asks. I watch his tongue dart out and lick his bottom lip in slow motion. I can almost feel it between my ... “Just the afternoon. I have my interview at six tonight, and then I catch the last flight out,” I whisper. “Can you change your flight?” Why? “No.” He smirks as he watches me, and it’s obvious he’s imagining something. “What?” I smile. “I wish we were on a private jet.” “Why is that?” His eyes drop to my lips once more. “Because I’d break that drought of yours and initiate you into the Miles-High Club.” I get a visual of climbing on top of him, right here, right now. “It’s Mile-High Club ... not Miles,” I whisper. “No ... it’s Miles.” He smirks as his eyes darken. “Trust me—it’s Miles.” Something inside me snaps, and suddenly I want to say something crazy and out of the ordinary. I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “You know, I’ve never fucked a stranger before.” He inhales sharply as his eyes hold mine. “Do you want to fuck a stranger?” he murmurs as arousal thrums between us. I stare at him. This is so out of character for me. This man makes me ... “Don’t be shy,” he whispers. “Tell me, if we were alone right now ...” He pauses as he chooses his words. “What would you give me, Emily?” My eyes search his, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lack of s3x or the fact that I know I’ll never see him again ... or perhaps I’m just a total ho. “Me,” I breathe. “I would give you me.” Our eyes lock, and as if forgetting where we are, he leans forward and cups my face in his hand. His eyes are so blue, and a wave of arousal sweeps through me at his touch. I want this man. I want all of this man ... every last drop. “Hot towel?” Jessica the flight attendant asks. We jump back from each other, embarrassed. What must they think of us? They’ve been watching us flirt shamelessly for the entire trip. “Thank you,” I stammer as I take the towel from her. “There’s a snowstorm in New York, and we’re going to circle for a while to see if we can land,” she says. “What happens if we can’t?” Jim asks. “We will fly on to Boston and have an emergency layover for the night. You will be accommodated in a hotel, of course. We’ll know in the next ten minutes. I’ll keep you updated.” “Thank you.” She walks off to the other side of the plane and out of earshot, and Jim leans over and whispers, “I hope New York freezes the fuck over.” Nerves dance in my stomach. “Why is that?” “I have plans for us,” he whispers darkly. I stare at him as my brain misfires. I’ve been prick teasing like a pro, but I’m really not that kind of girl. It’s easy to be brave and slutty when there’s no chance of anything happening. I begin to perspire. Why did I get so damn tipsy? Why did I tell him about my drought? That’s supposed to be kept private, fool. “Another drink?” Jim whispers. “I can’t—I have a job interview this afternoon.” “That won’t be happening.” “Don’t say that,” I stammer. “I want this job.” “Good evening, passengers; this is the captain speaking.” A voice comes over the loudspeaker, and I close my eyes. Shit. “Due to a snowstorm in New York, we will be flying on to Boston tonight and staying there. We will return to New York early in the morning. Sorry for any inconvenience this has caused, but safety is our priority.” My eyes meet Jim’s, and he gives me a slow and sexy smile and raises his eyebrow. Oh no. Chapter 4 “Don’t look so excited.” He smirks. “Jim ... ,” I stammer. Oh hell, how do I say this? “I’m not really the kind of girl who ...” My voice trails off. “Who fucks on first dates?” he says, finishing my sentence. “Yes.” I wince at the crudeness of that statement. “I just don’t want you to think ...” “I know. I wouldn’t,” he replies curtly. “I don’t.” “Good.” Relief fills me. “I was being flirty when I thought we were getting off and never seeing each other again.” “Right.” He smirks in amusement. “Not that I don’t think you’re great,” I add. “Because if I were that kind of girl, I would totally be into you. We would be fucking like ...” I pause as I try to think of an analogy. “Rabbits?” he offers. “Yes.” He holds both hands in the air. “I understand; platonic humans only.” I smile broadly. “I’m so glad you understand.” Seven hours later He slams me up against the wall as he struggles to pull my skirt up over my hips, and his open mouth ravages my neck. “Door,” I pant. “Open the damn door.” Oh God ... I’ve never felt this chemistry with anyone before. We’ve laughed and danced and kissed our way around Boston, and somehow he makes me feel at ease. It’s as if I do this type of thing every day, and it’s completely natural. The weird thing is, it feels right. The spontaneity of the situation I find myself in has me feeling all brave. This man is witty and funny and dirty as all hell, and in my opinion—which, in truth, could be totally screwed over with alcohol consumption at the moment—he’s worth the risk ... because I know I will never get the opportunity to be with a man like him again. I’ve died and gone to layover bad-girl heaven. Jim fumbles with the key, and we stumble into my room. Then he throws me onto the bed. My chest rises and falls as we stare at each other, and the air between crackles with electricity. “I’m not this kind of girl,” I remind him. “I know,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t want to corrupt you.” “But there is a drought,” I whisper. “So ... so dry.” He raises his eyebrows as he pants along with me. “This is true.” I stare at him for a moment as I try to clear my arousal fog. My s3x is throbbing and pleading for his body. “It would be a shame to ...” My voice trails off. “I know.” He licks his lips in appreciation as his eyes roam over my body. “Such a fucking shame.” He takes his shirt off over his shoulders, and my breath catches. He has a broad, muscular chest with olive skin and a scattering of hair that runs from his navel and disappears down into his pants. His hair is dark, and his eyes are a brilliant blue—but it’s the power behind them that has me aching for him to take me. There’s an edge to his touch that I’ve never felt before. He’s all male and pure domination. There’s no mistaking who’s in charge here. Something about this man has opened up another side of me that I didn’t know existed. I know he could have any woman in the world he wants. And at this moment, he wants me. There’s no denying the chemistry between us; it’s raw, honest, and all-consuming. He’s hardly touched me, and I already know that this night is special. Maybe fate has dealt me an ace for a change. With his eyes locked on mine and in slow motion, he unzips his pants and pulls his d1ck out. It’s big and hard, and my chest rises and falls as I watch him. My heart is in overdrive. Is this really happening? Oh. My. God. He begins to slowly stroke himself, and my mouth falls open as I stare, transfixed. I’ve never had a man touch himself in front of me before. Holy fucking shit. This is off the hook. He lifts one of his feet to the bed and really begins to let himself have it. The muscles in his shoulders and arms flex as he jerks himself hard, and my insides ripple in pleasure as I imagine it’s me doing it for him. This is like reality porn ... only ten times better. What the hell am I doing here? I’m a good girl, and good girls don’t do bad things with men like this. We don’t know the same people, we don’t live in the same city, and I may never see him again, and there’s an unexpected freedom in that. I can be different. Whoever he wants me to be. His eyes are locked on mine, and his jaw clenches. “Get over here and suck my c0ck, Emily,” he murmurs darkly. God, yes. I thought he’d never ask. I scurry to my knees, desperate to please him. I don’t know anything about this guy, but I do know that at this moment, I want to be the best s3x he’s ever had. I take him in my mouth as I pretend to be the deep-throat champion of the world. I fist him hard as my hand follows my lips. It’s been so long, and I feel my s3x clench, my org@sm close just from the taste of his preejaculate. “Fuck ... so good,” I murmur around him. “The taste of you is going to make me come.” He tips his head back to the sky and closes his eyes. “Naked. I need you fucking naked,” he growls with urgency. He drags me off the bed and in one moment has my skirt and panties on the floor. He pulls my shirt off over my head and throws my bra to the side. Then he stops still ... and in slow motion, with his hands clenched by his sides, his eyes drop down my body. He drinks me in, and I feel the heat as his gaze skims my skin. My world stops spinning, and I stand before him naked and vulnerable, waiting for his approval. This is new for me. I’ve never been with a man who’s so dominant and commanding. His eyes, his voice, his every touch reminds me of who I am with and how much his pleasure means to me. I feel like I want to rise to the challenge, and the primal urge to satisfy him is taking me over. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re blazing with desire. An undercurrent of darkness and tenderness runs between us. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how a man looks at a woman when every ounce of his being wants her. Because I swear to God, I’ve never seen this look before in my life. “On your back,” he murmurs. My face falls in fear. He takes me in his arms and kisses me deeply as he holds my face in his hands. “What is it?” he breathes. “It’s ... it’s been a long time,” I pant. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers softly, which eases my fears. His mouth takes mine, his tongue slowly sliding through my open lips with just the right amount of suction. My knees nearly buckle underneath me. He lays me down and spreads my legs and smiles darkly as he kisses his way down my body. I stare at the ceiling as I try to control my erratic breathing; no amount of alcohol could have prepared me for this. He lifts my legs and puts my feet onto his strong shoulders and then drops my knees wide. I am completely open for him, and he takes me with no reservations and sucks hard. I buck off the bed. “Ah!” I cry. But he gives me no mercy as he drives three of his thick fingers into my s3x and begins to pump me hard. Shit ... can’t we ease into it, at least? His tongue is on my clitoris, and his fingers are on my G-spot. What the actual hell is going on here? My body begins to quiver like a puppet ... his puppet. The man’s a god. My legs lift off his shoulders by themselves, and I convulse as a freight train of an org@sm rips through me. That took approximately five seconds. Oh hell. How embarrassing. Way to act cool. He chuckles as if he’s proud, and I throw the back of my forearm over my eyes to hide my face in shame. He pulls my arm away and takes my jaw in his hand and drags my face back to his. “Don’t hide from me, Emily. Not ever,” he commands. My eyes search his. This is too full on ... too much. This guy is too intense. “Answer me.” “What do you want me to say?” I whisper. “Say yes so that I know you understand.” The air crackles between us. “Yes,” I breathe. “I understand.” “Good girl,” he whispers as he leans in and kisses me again. His tongue is soft stroking perfection, and my legs open by themselves once more. He gets up and takes four condoms from his wallet, opens one, and hands it to me. “Put it on me.” I take it from him and bend to kiss him softly on his d1ck before I roll the condom on. “You’re very bossy.” I smirk. He smiles broadly as he falls onto his back, pulls me over him, and drags my face to his. “You’ll fuck me first,” he murmurs against my lips, “and then I’ll fuck you when you’re warmed up.” I smile against his mouth. “I only fuck once, big boy, and then I fall asleep.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile. I straddle his large body as our kisses become desperate. His thick c0ck is up against his stomach, and he holds it in the air and guides my hips down over him. Oh, the burn—he’s big. “Ow,” I whimper. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Wiggle from side to side.” He cups my breasts in his hands as he stares up at me in what seems like awe. I smile down at him. “What?” “From the moment I saw you on the plane today, I wanted you riding my c0ck.” I giggle down at him. “Do you always get what you want?” “Always.” He grabs my hips and slams me down, and our mouths fall open in pleasure. Oh ... he’s ... “So fucking tight,” he grinds out. With our eyes locked, he slowly moves me up and down, and I can feel every vein on his thick shaft. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at me, and I lean forward and kiss him softly. “Do you know how perfect you feel inside me?” I whisper, and then I lick his open mouth. His eyes roll back in his head. “You are one hot fuck.” He picks me up by the hip bones and slams me back down on his c0ck, and I laugh out loud at the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the hilt. “God, fill me up,” I moan. “Give it to me,” I beg. I love how he’s losing control. It’s making me crazy. And then as if in some kind of alternate universe, my mouth latches on to his neck, and I suck hard as I ride him. He hisses, and as if he’s completely losing control, he bucks me off and pulls out and throws me onto my back. He lifts my legs over his shoulders and slams in deep—so deep that the air is knocked from my lungs. I smile. So he likes dirty talk, does he? Well, that just happens to be my specialty. Game on. ******************* There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
I met a gorgeous blue-eyed stranger on a plane. After two glasses of wine, I made the worst confession possible. “I haven’t had s3x in eighteen months.” His jaw dropped. “Eighteen months? That’s unacceptable.” I groaned. “Why am I telling you this? You’re just some random guy.” He leaned in, voice low and amused. “Not random,” he murmured. “I’m the man who plans to fix that.” ----------------- “I’ve upgraded you. First class, enjoy your flight." Oh, thank God. Finally, some good news. I’ve just spent the last forty-eight hours in hell. I flew across the world to go to a wedding, only to watch my ex-boyfriend drape himself over his new girlfriend. And the bad weather delayed most flights. “Thank you so much,” I gush. He gives me a wink, and I could just reach over and hug him. But of course I won’t. I’ll pretend that cool things like this happen to me every day. “Thanks again.” I smile. “You have access to the VIP lounge, which is located on level one. Lunch and drinks are on the house in there. Have a safe flight.” With one last smile, he looks back to the line. “Next, please.” I walk through the baggage checks with a huge goofy grin on my face. First class—just what the doctor ordered. Three hours later, I walk onto the plane like a rock star. I didn’t end up going into the VIP lounge because, well ... I look like crap. My long dark hair is up in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing black leggings, a baggy pink sweater, and tennis shoes, but I did fix my makeup a little, so that’s something. If I had known I was going to be upgraded, I would have at least tried to look the part and worn something swanky instead of looking like a homeless person. But anyway... who cares? It’s not like I’m going to see anyone I know. I hand my ticket over to the flight attendant. “Just through the left aisle and to the right.” “Thanks.” I look at my ticket and walk through the plane and see my number. 1B. Damn it, I don’t have a window. I get to my seat, and a man sitting next to the window turns to me. Big blue eyes greet me, and he smiles. “Hello.” “Hi,” I say. Oh no ... I’m sitting next to God’s gift to women... only he’s hotter. I look like shit. Fuck it. I open the overhead, and he stands. “Here, let me.” He takes my bag from me and carefully places it up. He’s tall and built and wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt; he smells like the best aftershave in history. “Thanks,” I murmur as I pull my hand through my ponytail, trying to smooth out the knots. I mentally kick myself for not wearing something better. “Do you want the window seat?” he asks. I stare at him as my brain misfires. He gestures to the seat beside the window. “You don’t mind?” I frown. “Not at all.” He smiles. “I fly all the time. You can have it.” I force a smile. “Thanks.” That was code for “I know you got upgraded, you poor homeless person, and I feel sorry for you.” I sit down in my seat and look nervously out the window, with my hands clasped in front of me on my lap. “Are you going home?” he asks. I turn to him. Oh, please don’t talk to me. You make me nervous just sitting there. “No, I’ve been at a wedding, and I have a job interview in New York on the way home. I’m only there for the day, and then I fly out again to LA. I live there.” “Ah.” He smiles. “I see.” I stare at him for a moment; I should ask him a question now. “Are ... you going home?” I say. “Yes.” I nod, unsure what to say next, so I choose the lame option and stare back out the window. The attendant walks around with a bottle of champagne and glasses. Glasses. Since when do airlines give you a real glass? Oh right, first class. I knew that. “Would you like some champagne to take off with, sir?” the flight attendant asks him. I notice that her name tag says JESSICA. “That would be lovely.” He smiles and turns to me. “Make that two, please.” I frown as she pours two glasses of champagne and passes one to him and one to me. “Thank you.” I smile. I wait for Jessica to move out of earshot. “Do you always order drinks for other people?” I ask. He looks surprised by my statement. “Did it bother you?” “Not at all,” I huff. Damn this Mr. Fancy Pants for thinking he can order for me. “I do like to order my own drinks, though.” He smiles. “Well, you can order the next ones, then.” He raises his glass to me and smirks; then he takes a sip. He seems amused by my annoyance. I stare at him deadpan. This could be victim number two of my cutting today. I am not in the mood for some rich old bastard to boss me around. I sip my champagne as I look out the window. Well, he’s not really old. Maybe mid- to late thirties. I mean, old compared to me; I’m twenty-five. But whatever. “I’m Jim,” he says as he holds his hand out to shake mine. Oh God, now I have to be polite. I shake his hand. “Hi, Jim. I’m Emily.” His eyes dance with mischief. “Hello, Emily.” His eyes are big, bright blue, and dreamy, the kind I could get lost in. But why is he looking at me like that? The plane begins to travel slowly down the runway, and I look between the earphones and armrest. Where do these plug in? They’re high tech, the kind that overconfident YouTubers use. They don’t even have a cord. I look around. Well, this is stupid. How do I plug them in? “They’re Bluetooth,” Jim interrupts me. “Oh,” I mutter, feeling stupid. Of course they are. “Right.” “You haven’t flown first class before?” he asks. “No. I got an upgrade. I think the guy at the desk felt sorry for me.” I give him a lopsided smile. He rolls his lips as if amused and sips his champagne; his eyes linger on my face as if he has something on his mind. “What?” I ask. “Perhaps the guy at the desk thought you were gorgeous and upgraded you to try to impress you.” “I hadn’t thought of that.” I sip my champagne as I try to hide my smile. That’s an odd thing to say. “Is that what you would do?” I ask. “If you were at the desk, would you upgrade women to impress them?” “Absolutely.” I smirk. “Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues. I stare at him as I try to get my brain to keep up with the conversation. Why does that statement sound flirty? “And do tell ... how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?” I ask, fascinated. His eyes hold mine. “Offer her a window seat.” The air crackles between us, and I bite my lip to hide my goofy smile. “You’re trying to impress me?” I ask. Chapter 2 He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “How am I doing?” I smirk, unsure what to say. “I’m simply saying that you’re attractive, nothing more and nothing less. Don’t read into it. It was a statement, not a question.” “Oh.” I stare at him, lost for words. What do I even say to that? Statement, not a question ... huh? Don’t read into it. This guy is weird ... and utterly gorgeous. The plane begins to take off with speed, and I hold on to my armrests and scrunch my eyes shut. “You don’t like takeoffs?” he asks. “Do I look like I like takeoffs?” I wince as I hang on for dear life. “I love them,” he replies casually. “I love the feeling of power as it surges forward. That g-force throwback.” Okay ... why is everything coming out of his mouth sounding s3xual? God, I need to get laid ... stat. I exhale and stare out the window as we go higher and higher. I don’t have the energy for this guy to play cute today. I’m tired, I’m hungover, I look crappy, and my ex is a douche. I want to go to sleep and wake up next year. I decide I’ll watch a movie. I begin to flick through the choices on the screen in front of me. He leans over and says, “Great minds think alike. I’m watching a movie too.” I fake a smile. Just stop being all hot and in my space. You’re probably married to a vegan yoga nut who does meditation and shit. “Great,” I mutter deadpan. I should have flown coach; at least I wouldn’t have had to inhale the scent of beautiful man for eight long, sexless hours. I scroll through my screen and then narrow it down to my choices. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Pride and Prejudice. The Heat. Jumanji ... well, that has the Rock in it—it has to be good. Notting Hill. The Proposal. 50 First Dates. Bridget Jones’s Diary. Pretty Woman. Sleepless in Seattle. Magic Mike XXL. I smile at the choices, all of my favorites lined in a row; this flight is going to be a dream. I haven’t seen the sequel to Magic Mike yet, so I might start with that one. I glance over to look at what Jim has picked, and I see the heading come up. Lincoln. Ugh ... a political movie. Who watches that stuff for fun? I should have known he’d be boring. He reaches up and taps the screen, and I catch sight of his watch. A chunky silver Rolex. Ugh, and he has money too. Typical. “What are you going to watch?” he asks. Oh no ... I don’t want to appear ditzy. “I’m not sure yet,” I reply. Damn you ... I want to watch men strip. “What are you watching?” I ask. “Lincoln. I’ve been meaning to see it for a long time.” “Sounds boring,” I say. He smiles at my answer. “I’ll let you know.” He puts his earphones on and begins to watch his movie, and I scroll through my choices again. I really want to watch Magic Mike XXL. Does it matter if he sees? No ... that’s just embarrassing. It makes me look desperate. Who am I kidding? I am desperate. I haven’t seen a d1ck in over a year. I tap on The Proposal. I’ll swap one fantasy for another. I’ve always dreamed of having Ryan Reynolds as my personal assistant. The movie begins, and I smile at the screen. I love this movie. No matter how many times I watch it, I always laugh. Gammy is my favorite. “You’re watching a romance?” he asks. “A rom-com,” I reply. For God’s sake, this guy is nosy. He smirks as if he’s better than me. “More champagne?” the flight attendant asks. Blue Eyes looks over at me. “Here’s your chance to order for us.” I stare at him flatly; all right, he’s beginning to piss me off now. “We’ll have two, please.” “What do you like about rom-coms?” he asks as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him. “Men who don’t talk during movies,” I whisper into my champagne glass. He smiles broadly to himself. “What do you like about ...” I pause because I don’t even know what Lincoln is about. “Political films?” I ask. “The fact that they’re boring as all hell?” “I just like true stories, regardless of what they are.” “So do I,” I reply. “That’s why I like romance. Love is true.” He chuckles into his glass as if amused. I glance over at him. “What does that mean?” “Rom-coms are as far from reality as you can get. I bet you’re the type who reads trashy romance novels too.” I stare at him flatly. I think I hate this man. “I am, actually ... and if you must know, I’m watching Magic Mike XXL after this so I can watch gorgeous men take their clothes off.” I sip my champagne in annoyance. “And I’ll smile through the whole damn thing, regardless of your snooty judgment.” He laughs out loud, and it’s deep and strong and does things to my stomach. I put my headphones back on and pretend to focus on my screen. I can’t, though, because I just totally embarrassed myself, and I can feel myself blushing. Stop talking. Two hours later, I sit and stare out the window. My movie is over, but his scent is not. It’s surrounding me, taunting me with things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. How does he smell so good? Unsure what to do without seeming awkward, I decide I’ll take a nap, try to sleep through the next few hours, but first I need to go to the bathroom. I stand. “Excuse me.” He moves his legs a little but not enough for me to fit through, and I have to lean over him to get past. I stumble and fall and put my hand on his thigh; it’s large and hard to my touch. “I’m so sorry,” I stammer, embarrassed. “That’s fine.” He smirks up at me. “More than fine.” I stare at him for a moment. Huh? “There’s a method to my madness.” I frown. What does that mean? I make my way past him and go to the bathroom, and then I walk around and stretch my legs a little as I ponder that statement. I’m stumped—I’ve got nothing. “What did you mean by that?” I ask as I fall back into my seat. “Nothing.” “Did you give me the window seat so I would have to climb over you?” He tilts his head to the side. “No, I gave you the window seat because you wanted it. Climbing over me was just an added bonus.” I stare at him as I struggle to respond. Am I imagining this? Older rich guys don’t usually speak to me like this ... at all. “Are you flirting with me, Jim?” I ask. He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “I don’t know. Am I?” “I asked you first, and don’t answer my question with a question.” He smirks as he turns his attention back to the television screen. “This is probably where you should start flirting back ... Emily.” I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I try to hide my stupid smile. “I don’t flirt. I either want a man or I don’t,” I announce. “Is that so?” he says as if fascinated. “And how long after you meet a man do you make that decision?” “Instantaneously,” I lie. That’s not true, but I’ll pretend. Faking confidence is my superpower. “Really?” he whispers as the flight attendant walks past us. “Excuse me, can we have two more champagnes, please?” he asks her. “Of course, sir.” His eyes come back to meet mine. “Well, do tell. What was your first impression of me?” I pretend to look around for Jessica the flight attendant. “You may need something stronger to drink to hear this, Jim. You’re not going to like it.” He laughs out loud, and I find myself smiling broadly as I watch him. “What’s funny?” I ask. “You are.” “Why am I funny?” I frown. “This sense of righteousness that you have.” “Oh, like you don’t have that too ... Mr. I’ll Have Two Champagnes.” Our drinks arrive, and he smiles as he passes mine to me. His eyes linger on my face as he takes a sip. “What were you doing in London?” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “I flew over for a friend’s wedding, and to be honest, I wish I hadn’t gone.” “Why not?” “My ex was there with his new squeeze, and he was being over-the-top affectionate with her to piss me off.” “Which worked, obviously,” he adds as he tilts his glass toward me. “Hmm.” I sip my drink in disgust. “Just a little.” “What did she look like?” “Long bleached-blonde hair and huge silicone lips and boobs and eyelashes and fake tan and everything I’m not.” “Hmm.” He listens intently. “Like Backseat Barbie on crack.” He chuckles. “Everyone loves a Backseat Barbie.” I look over at him in disgust. “This is probably where you should tell me that all men hate Backseat Barbies, Jim. Don’t you know anything about polite plane-conversation etiquette?” “Obviously not.” He frowns as he considers my statement. “Why would I do that?” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point. “To be nice.” “Oh, right.” He frowns as if bracing himself to lie. “Emily ... all men are repulsed by Backseat Barbies.” I smile as I tip my glass to him. “Thank you, Jim.” “Although ...” He pauses for a moment. “If they give good head ...” What the hell? I snort my champagne up my nose and choke. That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of his mouth. “Jim,” I splutter as it sprays everywhere. He laughs as he grabs his napkins and hands them over, and I wipe the drink dribbling from my chin. “Men who look like you are not supposed to talk about head.” I cough. “Why not?” he asks incredulously. “And what do you mean, men who look like me?” “All serious and stuff.” He looks at me deadpan. “Define stuff.” “You know, older, rich, and bossy.” His eyes dance with delight. “And what gives you the impression that I’m rich and bossy?” I exhale in an overexaggerated way. “You look rich.” “How do I?” “Your fancy watch. The cut of your shirt.” I glance down at his shoes. “I’ve never seen shoes like that before. Where did you even get those?” “In a shop, Emily.” He looks at his watch. “And I’ll have you know that this watch was a gift from a girlfriend.” I roll my eyes. “I bet she’s a vegan yoga nut.” He smirks. “I know your type of woman.” “Really.” He leans closer. “Please go on—this character analysis is fascinating.” I smile as a little voice from my subconscious screams, Stop drinking, fool! “I’m assuming you live in New York.” “Correct.” “In an apartment.” “Affirmative.” “You probably work at some ritzy company.” He smiles; he likes this game. “Perhaps.” “You would have a girlfriend or ...” I glance down. “You don’t wear a wedding ring ... so perhaps you cheat on your wife when you travel for work?” He chuckles. “You really should make a profession out of this. I’m amazed at the accuracy.” I like this game too; I smile broadly. “What do you think about me?” I ask. “What was your first impression when I walked onto the plane?” “Well.” He frowns as he considers the question. “Do you want the politically correct version?” “No. I want the truth.” “Right ... well, in that case, I noticed your long legs and the curve of your neck. The dimple in your chin. You are the most attractive woman I’ve seen in a long time, and when you smiled, it brought me to my feet.” I smile softly as the air swirls between us. “And then you spoke ... and ruined everything.” Chapter 3 What? I burst out laughing. “I ruined everything? How did I ruin everything?” “You’re bossy, with a sarcastic snark.” “What’s the problem with that?” I stammer in outrage. “Well, I’m bossy and sarcastic.” He shrugs. “And?” “And I don’t want to date myself. I like sweet, demure girls, the ones who do what I say.” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “The ones who clean the house and have s3x on Saturdays.” “Precisely.” I laugh and hold my glass up to clink with his. “You’re not bad for a boring old guy with weird shoes.” He laughs. “And you’re not bad for a young, hot smart-ass.” “Do you want to watch Magic Mike XXL with me?” I ask. “I suppose, although I should let you know ... I am an ex-stripper myself, so this is nothing new for me.” “Really?” I try to hide my smile. “You’re good on a pole?” His eyes hold mine. “My pole work is the best in the country.” The air crackles between us, and I have to concentrate on stopping my inebriated mouth from saying something slutty. He pushes the screen and taps through to Magic Mike XXL ... and I smile broadly. This man is so unexpected. First class is definitely the way to fly. Six hours later “Okay, next question. The weirdest place you’ve ever had s3x?” he whispers. I smirk. “You can’t ask me that.” “Yes, I can. I just did.” “It’s rude.” “Says who?” He looks around. “It’s just a question, and nobody is listening.” Jim and I have talked and whispered and laughed our way through the entire flight. “Hmm.” I think out loud. “That’s a tough one.” “Why?” “I’m on a bit of a drought at the moment. I can hardly remember any s3x.” “How long?” He frowns. “Oh.” I look to the ceiling as I think. “I haven’t had s3x in like ... eighteen months.” His face falls in horror. “What?” “It’s lame, isn’t it?” I wince. “Very. You need to up your game. They’re very bad statistics, indeed.” “I know.” I giggle. Boy ... we’re so tipsy. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?” I whisper. “You’re just some random guy I met on a plane.” “Who happens to be very interested in the subject.” “Why is that?” He leans in and whispers to me so that the flight attendants can’t hear us. “I don’t understand how someone as hot as you doesn’t get fucked three times a day.” I stare at him as I feel a tingle all the way to my toes. Stop it. This guy is too old for me and so not my type. His eyes drop to my lips, and the air between us zaps with electricity. “How long are you in New York?” he asks. I watch his tongue dart out and lick his bottom lip in slow motion. I can almost feel it between my ... “Just the afternoon. I have my interview at six tonight, and then I catch the last flight out,” I whisper. “Can you change your flight?” Why? “No.” He smirks as he watches me, and it’s obvious he’s imagining something. “What?” I smile. “I wish we were on a private jet.” “Why is that?” His eyes drop to my lips once more. “Because I’d break that drought of yours and initiate you into the Miles-High Club.” I get a visual of climbing on top of him, right here, right now. “It’s Mile-High Club ... not Miles,” I whisper. “No ... it’s Miles.” He smirks as his eyes darken. “Trust me—it’s Miles.” Something inside me snaps, and suddenly I want to say something crazy and out of the ordinary. I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “You know, I’ve never fucked a stranger before.” He inhales sharply as his eyes hold mine. “Do you want to fuck a stranger?” he murmurs as arousal thrums between us. I stare at him. This is so out of character for me. This man makes me ... “Don’t be shy,” he whispers. “Tell me, if we were alone right now ...” He pauses as he chooses his words. “What would you give me, Emily?” My eyes search his, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lack of s3x or the fact that I know I’ll never see him again ... or perhaps I’m just a total ho. “Me,” I breathe. “I would give you me.” Our eyes lock, and as if forgetting where we are, he leans forward and cups my face in his hand. His eyes are so blue, and a wave of arousal sweeps through me at his touch. I want this man. I want all of this man ... every last drop. “Hot towel?” Jessica the flight attendant asks. We jump back from each other, embarrassed. What must they think of us? They’ve been watching us flirt shamelessly for the entire trip. “Thank you,” I stammer as I take the towel from her. “There’s a snowstorm in New York, and we’re going to circle for a while to see if we can land,” she says. “What happens if we can’t?” Jim asks. “We will fly on to Boston and have an emergency layover for the night. You will be accommodated in a hotel, of course. We’ll know in the next ten minutes. I’ll keep you updated.” “Thank you.” She walks off to the other side of the plane and out of earshot, and Jim leans over and whispers, “I hope New York freezes the fuck over.” Nerves dance in my stomach. “Why is that?” “I have plans for us,” he whispers darkly. I stare at him as my brain misfires. I’ve been prick teasing like a pro, but I’m really not that kind of girl. It’s easy to be brave and slutty when there’s no chance of anything happening. I begin to perspire. Why did I get so damn tipsy? Why did I tell him about my drought? That’s supposed to be kept private, fool. “Another drink?” Jim whispers. “I can’t—I have a job interview this afternoon.” “That won’t be happening.” “Don’t say that,” I stammer. “I want this job.” “Good evening, passengers; this is the captain speaking.” A voice comes over the loudspeaker, and I close my eyes. Shit. “Due to a snowstorm in New York, we will be flying on to Boston tonight and staying there. We will return to New York early in the morning. Sorry for any inconvenience this has caused, but safety is our priority.” My eyes meet Jim’s, and he gives me a slow and sexy smile and raises his eyebrow. Oh no. Chapter 4 “Don’t look so excited.” He smirks. “Jim ... ,” I stammer. Oh hell, how do I say this? “I’m not really the kind of girl who ...” My voice trails off. “Who fucks on first dates?” he says, finishing my sentence. “Yes.” I wince at the crudeness of that statement. “I just don’t want you to think ...” “I know. I wouldn’t,” he replies curtly. “I don’t.” “Good.” Relief fills me. “I was being flirty when I thought we were getting off and never seeing each other again.” “Right.” He smirks in amusement. “Not that I don’t think you’re great,” I add. “Because if I were that kind of girl, I would totally be into you. We would be fucking like ...” I pause as I try to think of an analogy. “Rabbits?” he offers. “Yes.” He holds both hands in the air. “I understand; platonic humans only.” I smile broadly. “I’m so glad you understand.” Seven hours later He slams me up against the wall as he struggles to pull my skirt up over my hips, and his open mouth ravages my neck. “Door,” I pant. “Open the damn door.” Oh God ... I’ve never felt this chemistry with anyone before. We’ve laughed and danced and kissed our way around Boston, and somehow he makes me feel at ease. It’s as if I do this type of thing every day, and it’s completely natural. The weird thing is, it feels right. The spontaneity of the situation I find myself in has me feeling all brave. This man is witty and funny and dirty as all hell, and in my opinion—which, in truth, could be totally screwed over with alcohol consumption at the moment—he’s worth the risk ... because I know I will never get the opportunity to be with a man like him again. I’ve died and gone to layover bad-girl heaven. Jim fumbles with the key, and we stumble into my room. Then he throws me onto the bed. My chest rises and falls as we stare at each other, and the air between crackles with electricity. “I’m not this kind of girl,” I remind him. “I know,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t want to corrupt you.” “But there is a drought,” I whisper. “So ... so dry.” He raises his eyebrows as he pants along with me. “This is true.” I stare at him for a moment as I try to clear my arousal fog. My s3x is throbbing and pleading for his body. “It would be a shame to ...” My voice trails off. “I know.” He licks his lips in appreciation as his eyes roam over my body. “Such a fucking shame.” He takes his shirt off over his shoulders, and my breath catches. He has a broad, muscular chest with olive skin and a scattering of hair that runs from his navel and disappears down into his pants. His hair is dark, and his eyes are a brilliant blue—but it’s the power behind them that has me aching for him to take me. There’s an edge to his touch that I’ve never felt before. He’s all male and pure domination. There’s no mistaking who’s in charge here. Something about this man has opened up another side of me that I didn’t know existed. I know he could have any woman in the world he wants. And at this moment, he wants me. There’s no denying the chemistry between us; it’s raw, honest, and all-consuming. He’s hardly touched me, and I already know that this night is special. Maybe fate has dealt me an ace for a change. With his eyes locked on mine and in slow motion, he unzips his pants and pulls his d1ck out. It’s big and hard, and my chest rises and falls as I watch him. My heart is in overdrive. Is this really happening? Oh. My. God. He begins to slowly stroke himself, and my mouth falls open as I stare, transfixed. I’ve never had a man touch himself in front of me before. Holy fucking shit. This is off the hook. He lifts one of his feet to the bed and really begins to let himself have it. The muscles in his shoulders and arms flex as he jerks himself hard, and my insides ripple in pleasure as I imagine it’s me doing it for him. This is like reality porn ... only ten times better. What the hell am I doing here? I’m a good girl, and good girls don’t do bad things with men like this. We don’t know the same people, we don’t live in the same city, and I may never see him again, and there’s an unexpected freedom in that. I can be different. Whoever he wants me to be. His eyes are locked on mine, and his jaw clenches. “Get over here and suck my c0ck, Emily,” he murmurs darkly. God, yes. I thought he’d never ask. I scurry to my knees, desperate to please him. I don’t know anything about this guy, but I do know that at this moment, I want to be the best s3x he’s ever had. I take him in my mouth as I pretend to be the deep-throat champion of the world. I fist him hard as my hand follows my lips. It’s been so long, and I feel my s3x clench, my org@sm close just from the taste of his preejaculate. “Fuck ... so good,” I murmur around him. “The taste of you is going to make me come.” He tips his head back to the sky and closes his eyes. “Naked. I need you fucking naked,” he growls with urgency. He drags me off the bed and in one moment has my skirt and panties on the floor. He pulls my shirt off over my head and throws my bra to the side. Then he stops still ... and in slow motion, with his hands clenched by his sides, his eyes drop down my body. He drinks me in, and I feel the heat as his gaze skims my skin. My world stops spinning, and I stand before him naked and vulnerable, waiting for his approval. This is new for me. I’ve never been with a man who’s so dominant and commanding. His eyes, his voice, his every touch reminds me of who I am with and how much his pleasure means to me. I feel like I want to rise to the challenge, and the primal urge to satisfy him is taking me over. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re blazing with desire. An undercurrent of darkness and tenderness runs between us. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how a man looks at a woman when every ounce of his being wants her. Because I swear to God, I’ve never seen this look before in my life. “On your back,” he murmurs. My face falls in fear. He takes me in his arms and kisses me deeply as he holds my face in his hands. “What is it?” he breathes. “It’s ... it’s been a long time,” I pant. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers softly, which eases my fears. His mouth takes mine, his tongue slowly sliding through my open lips with just the right amount of suction. My knees nearly buckle underneath me. He lays me down and spreads my legs and smiles darkly as he kisses his way down my body. I stare at the ceiling as I try to control my erratic breathing; no amount of alcohol could have prepared me for this. He lifts my legs and puts my feet onto his strong shoulders and then drops my knees wide. I am completely open for him, and he takes me with no reservations and sucks hard. I buck off the bed. “Ah!” I cry. But he gives me no mercy as he drives three of his thick fingers into my s3x and begins to pump me hard. Shit ... can’t we ease into it, at least? His tongue is on my clitoris, and his fingers are on my G-spot. What the actual hell is going on here? My body begins to quiver like a puppet ... his puppet. The man’s a god. My legs lift off his shoulders by themselves, and I convulse as a freight train of an org@sm rips through me. That took approximately five seconds. Oh hell. How embarrassing. Way to act cool. He chuckles as if he’s proud, and I throw the back of my forearm over my eyes to hide my face in shame. He pulls my arm away and takes my jaw in his hand and drags my face back to his. “Don’t hide from me, Emily. Not ever,” he commands. My eyes search his. This is too full on ... too much. This guy is too intense. “Answer me.” “What do you want me to say?” I whisper. “Say yes so that I know you understand.” The air crackles between us. “Yes,” I breathe. “I understand.” “Good girl,” he whispers as he leans in and kisses me again. His tongue is soft stroking perfection, and my legs open by themselves once more. He gets up and takes four condoms from his wallet, opens one, and hands it to me. “Put it on me.” I take it from him and bend to kiss him softly on his d1ck before I roll the condom on. “You’re very bossy.” I smirk. He smiles broadly as he falls onto his back, pulls me over him, and drags my face to his. “You’ll fuck me first,” he murmurs against my lips, “and then I’ll fuck you when you’re warmed up.” I smile against his mouth. “I only fuck once, big boy, and then I fall asleep.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile. I straddle his large body as our kisses become desperate. His thick c0ck is up against his stomach, and he holds it in the air and guides my hips down over him. Oh, the burn—he’s big. “Ow,” I whimper. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Wiggle from side to side.” He cups my breasts in his hands as he stares up at me in what seems like awe. I smile down at him. “What?” “From the moment I saw you on the plane today, I wanted you riding my c0ck.” I giggle down at him. “Do you always get what you want?” “Always.” He grabs my hips and slams me down, and our mouths fall open in pleasure. Oh ... he’s ... “So fucking tight,” he grinds out. With our eyes locked, he slowly moves me up and down, and I can feel every vein on his thick shaft. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at me, and I lean forward and kiss him softly. “Do you know how perfect you feel inside me?” I whisper, and then I lick his open mouth. His eyes roll back in his head. “You are one hot fuck.” He picks me up by the hip bones and slams me back down on his c0ck, and I laugh out loud at the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the hilt. “God, fill me up,” I moan. “Give it to me,” I beg. I love how he’s losing control. It’s making me crazy. And then as if in some kind of alternate universe, my mouth latches on to his neck, and I suck hard as I ride him. He hisses, and as if he’s completely losing control, he bucks me off and pulls out and throws me onto my back. He lifts my legs over his shoulders and slams in deep—so deep that the air is knocked from my lungs. I smile. So he likes dirty talk, does he? Well, that just happens to be my specialty. Game on. ******************* There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
🌟SOMERSTAGE FAMOUS SUMMER WORKSHOP 🌟 BOOKING IS NOW OPEN- use link below to book: 💖 https://www.mcmillantheatre.com/events/schools-out-for-summer---musical-theatre-workshop/ School’s out at The McMillan Theatre this summer with a Musical Theatre workshop that’s in a class of its own. Packed with singing, dancing and acting, this is the perfect opportunity for young performers to build confidence, make friends and have an unforgettable summer experience. Led by West End professionals and industry performers, students will learn rebellious routines, vibrant vocal numbers and Punchy performance skills in a fun, high-energy environment. The week will finish with a live performance for friends and family onstage at the The McMillan Theatre complete with full professional lighting, sound and projections. These workshops are incredibly popular and have limited places!
I met a gorgeous blue-eyed stranger on a plane. After two glasses of wine, I made the worst confession possible. “I haven’t had s3x in eighteen months.” His jaw dropped. “Eighteen months? That’s unacceptable.” I groaned. “Why am I telling you this? You’re just some random guy.” He leaned in, voice low and amused. “Not random,” he murmured. “I’m the man who plans to fix that.” ----------------- “I’ve upgraded you. First class, enjoy your flight." Oh, thank God. Finally, some good news. I’ve just spent the last forty-eight hours in hell. I flew across the world to go to a wedding, only to watch my ex-boyfriend drape himself over his new girlfriend. And the bad weather delayed most flights. “Thank you so much,” I gush. He gives me a wink, and I could just reach over and hug him. But of course I won’t. I’ll pretend that cool things like this happen to me every day. “Thanks again.” I smile. “You have access to the VIP lounge, which is located on level one. Lunch and drinks are on the house in there. Have a safe flight.” With one last smile, he looks back to the line. “Next, please.” I walk through the baggage checks with a huge goofy grin on my face. First class—just what the doctor ordered. Three hours later, I walk onto the plane like a rock star. I didn’t end up going into the VIP lounge because, well ... I look like crap. My long dark hair is up in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing black leggings, a baggy pink sweater, and tennis shoes, but I did fix my makeup a little, so that’s something. If I had known I was going to be upgraded, I would have at least tried to look the part and worn something swanky instead of looking like a homeless person. But anyway... who cares? It’s not like I’m going to see anyone I know. I hand my ticket over to the flight attendant. “Just through the left aisle and to the right.” “Thanks.” I look at my ticket and walk through the plane and see my number. 1B. Damn it, I don’t have a window. I get to my seat, and a man sitting next to the window turns to me. Big blue eyes greet me, and he smiles. “Hello.” “Hi,” I say. Oh no ... I’m sitting next to God’s gift to women... only he’s hotter. I look like shit. Fuck it. I open the overhead, and he stands. “Here, let me.” He takes my bag from me and carefully places it up. He’s tall and built and wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt; he smells like the best aftershave in history. “Thanks,” I murmur as I pull my hand through my ponytail, trying to smooth out the knots. I mentally kick myself for not wearing something better. “Do you want the window seat?” he asks. I stare at him as my brain misfires. He gestures to the seat beside the window. “You don’t mind?” I frown. “Not at all.” He smiles. “I fly all the time. You can have it.” I force a smile. “Thanks.” That was code for “I know you got upgraded, you poor homeless person, and I feel sorry for you.” I sit down in my seat and look nervously out the window, with my hands clasped in front of me on my lap. “Are you going home?” he asks. I turn to him. Oh, please don’t talk to me. You make me nervous just sitting there. “No, I’ve been at a wedding, and I have a job interview in New York on the way home. I’m only there for the day, and then I fly out again to LA. I live there.” “Ah.” He smiles. “I see.” I stare at him for a moment; I should ask him a question now. “Are ... you going home?” I say. “Yes.” I nod, unsure what to say next, so I choose the lame option and stare back out the window. The attendant walks around with a bottle of champagne and glasses. Glasses. Since when do airlines give you a real glass? Oh right, first class. I knew that. “Would you like some champagne to take off with, sir?” the flight attendant asks him. I notice that her name tag says JESSICA. “That would be lovely.” He smiles and turns to me. “Make that two, please.” I frown as she pours two glasses of champagne and passes one to him and one to me. “Thank you.” I smile. I wait for Jessica to move out of earshot. “Do you always order drinks for other people?” I ask. He looks surprised by my statement. “Did it bother you?” “Not at all,” I huff. Damn this Mr. Fancy Pants for thinking he can order for me. “I do like to order my own drinks, though.” He smiles. “Well, you can order the next ones, then.” He raises his glass to me and smirks; then he takes a sip. He seems amused by my annoyance. I stare at him deadpan. This could be victim number two of my cutting today. I am not in the mood for some rich old bastard to boss me around. I sip my champagne as I look out the window. Well, he’s not really old. Maybe mid- to late thirties. I mean, old compared to me; I’m twenty-five. But whatever. “I’m Jim,” he says as he holds his hand out to shake mine. Oh God, now I have to be polite. I shake his hand. “Hi, Jim. I’m Emily.” His eyes dance with mischief. “Hello, Emily.” His eyes are big, bright blue, and dreamy, the kind I could get lost in. But why is he looking at me like that? The plane begins to travel slowly down the runway, and I look between the earphones and armrest. Where do these plug in? They’re high tech, the kind that overconfident YouTubers use. They don’t even have a cord. I look around. Well, this is stupid. How do I plug them in? “They’re Bluetooth,” Jim interrupts me. “Oh,” I mutter, feeling stupid. Of course they are. “Right.” “You haven’t flown first class before?” he asks. “No. I got an upgrade. I think the guy at the desk felt sorry for me.” I give him a lopsided smile. He rolls his lips as if amused and sips his champagne; his eyes linger on my face as if he has something on his mind. “What?” I ask. “Perhaps the guy at the desk thought you were gorgeous and upgraded you to try to impress you.” “I hadn’t thought of that.” I sip my champagne as I try to hide my smile. That’s an odd thing to say. “Is that what you would do?” I ask. “If you were at the desk, would you upgrade women to impress them?” “Absolutely.” I smirk. “Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues. I stare at him as I try to get my brain to keep up with the conversation. Why does that statement sound flirty? “And do tell ... how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?” I ask, fascinated. His eyes hold mine. “Offer her a window seat.” The air crackles between us, and I bite my lip to hide my goofy smile. “You’re trying to impress me?” I ask. Chapter 2 He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “How am I doing?” I smirk, unsure what to say. “I’m simply saying that you’re attractive, nothing more and nothing less. Don’t read into it. It was a statement, not a question.” “Oh.” I stare at him, lost for words. What do I even say to that? Statement, not a question ... huh? Don’t read into it. This guy is weird ... and utterly gorgeous. The plane begins to take off with speed, and I hold on to my armrests and scrunch my eyes shut. “You don’t like takeoffs?” he asks. “Do I look like I like takeoffs?” I wince as I hang on for dear life. “I love them,” he replies casually. “I love the feeling of power as it surges forward. That g-force throwback.” Okay ... why is everything coming out of his mouth sounding s3xual? God, I need to get laid ... stat. I exhale and stare out the window as we go higher and higher. I don’t have the energy for this guy to play cute today. I’m tired, I’m hungover, I look crappy, and my ex is a douche. I want to go to sleep and wake up next year. I decide I’ll watch a movie. I begin to flick through the choices on the screen in front of me. He leans over and says, “Great minds think alike. I’m watching a movie too.” I fake a smile. Just stop being all hot and in my space. You’re probably married to a vegan yoga nut who does meditation and shit. “Great,” I mutter deadpan. I should have flown coach; at least I wouldn’t have had to inhale the scent of beautiful man for eight long, sexless hours. I scroll through my screen and then narrow it down to my choices. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Pride and Prejudice. The Heat. Jumanji ... well, that has the Rock in it—it has to be good. Notting Hill. The Proposal. 50 First Dates. Bridget Jones’s Diary. Pretty Woman. Sleepless in Seattle. Magic Mike XXL. I smile at the choices, all of my favorites lined in a row; this flight is going to be a dream. I haven’t seen the sequel to Magic Mike yet, so I might start with that one. I glance over to look at what Jim has picked, and I see the heading come up. Lincoln. Ugh ... a political movie. Who watches that stuff for fun? I should have known he’d be boring. He reaches up and taps the screen, and I catch sight of his watch. A chunky silver Rolex. Ugh, and he has money too. Typical. “What are you going to watch?” he asks. Oh no ... I don’t want to appear ditzy. “I’m not sure yet,” I reply. Damn you ... I want to watch men strip. “What are you watching?” I ask. “Lincoln. I’ve been meaning to see it for a long time.” “Sounds boring,” I say. He smiles at my answer. “I’ll let you know.” He puts his earphones on and begins to watch his movie, and I scroll through my choices again. I really want to watch Magic Mike XXL. Does it matter if he sees? No ... that’s just embarrassing. It makes me look desperate. Who am I kidding? I am desperate. I haven’t seen a d1ck in over a year. I tap on The Proposal. I’ll swap one fantasy for another. I’ve always dreamed of having Ryan Reynolds as my personal assistant. The movie begins, and I smile at the screen. I love this movie. No matter how many times I watch it, I always laugh. Gammy is my favorite. “You’re watching a romance?” he asks. “A rom-com,” I reply. For God’s sake, this guy is nosy. He smirks as if he’s better than me. “More champagne?” the flight attendant asks. Blue Eyes looks over at me. “Here’s your chance to order for us.” I stare at him flatly; all right, he’s beginning to piss me off now. “We’ll have two, please.” “What do you like about rom-coms?” he asks as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him. “Men who don’t talk during movies,” I whisper into my champagne glass. He smiles broadly to himself. “What do you like about ...” I pause because I don’t even know what Lincoln is about. “Political films?” I ask. “The fact that they’re boring as all hell?” “I just like true stories, regardless of what they are.” “So do I,” I reply. “That’s why I like romance. Love is true.” He chuckles into his glass as if amused. I glance over at him. “What does that mean?” “Rom-coms are as far from reality as you can get. I bet you’re the type who reads trashy romance novels too.” I stare at him flatly. I think I hate this man. “I am, actually ... and if you must know, I’m watching Magic Mike XXL after this so I can watch gorgeous men take their clothes off.” I sip my champagne in annoyance. “And I’ll smile through the whole damn thing, regardless of your snooty judgment.” He laughs out loud, and it’s deep and strong and does things to my stomach. I put my headphones back on and pretend to focus on my screen. I can’t, though, because I just totally embarrassed myself, and I can feel myself blushing. Stop talking. Two hours later, I sit and stare out the window. My movie is over, but his scent is not. It’s surrounding me, taunting me with things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. How does he smell so good? Unsure what to do without seeming awkward, I decide I’ll take a nap, try to sleep through the next few hours, but first I need to go to the bathroom. I stand. “Excuse me.” He moves his legs a little but not enough for me to fit through, and I have to lean over him to get past. I stumble and fall and put my hand on his thigh; it’s large and hard to my touch. “I’m so sorry,” I stammer, embarrassed. “That’s fine.” He smirks up at me. “More than fine.” I stare at him for a moment. Huh? “There’s a method to my madness.” I frown. What does that mean? I make my way past him and go to the bathroom, and then I walk around and stretch my legs a little as I ponder that statement. I’m stumped—I’ve got nothing. “What did you mean by that?” I ask as I fall back into my seat. “Nothing.” “Did you give me the window seat so I would have to climb over you?” He tilts his head to the side. “No, I gave you the window seat because you wanted it. Climbing over me was just an added bonus.” I stare at him as I struggle to respond. Am I imagining this? Older rich guys don’t usually speak to me like this ... at all. “Are you flirting with me, Jim?” I ask. He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “I don’t know. Am I?” “I asked you first, and don’t answer my question with a question.” He smirks as he turns his attention back to the television screen. “This is probably where you should start flirting back ... Emily.” I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I try to hide my stupid smile. “I don’t flirt. I either want a man or I don’t,” I announce. “Is that so?” he says as if fascinated. “And how long after you meet a man do you make that decision?” “Instantaneously,” I lie. That’s not true, but I’ll pretend. Faking confidence is my superpower. “Really?” he whispers as the flight attendant walks past us. “Excuse me, can we have two more champagnes, please?” he asks her. “Of course, sir.” His eyes come back to meet mine. “Well, do tell. What was your first impression of me?” I pretend to look around for Jessica the flight attendant. “You may need something stronger to drink to hear this, Jim. You’re not going to like it.” He laughs out loud, and I find myself smiling broadly as I watch him. “What’s funny?” I ask. “You are.” “Why am I funny?” I frown. “This sense of righteousness that you have.” “Oh, like you don’t have that too ... Mr. I’ll Have Two Champagnes.” Our drinks arrive, and he smiles as he passes mine to me. His eyes linger on my face as he takes a sip. “What were you doing in London?” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “I flew over for a friend’s wedding, and to be honest, I wish I hadn’t gone.” “Why not?” “My ex was there with his new squeeze, and he was being over-the-top affectionate with her to piss me off.” “Which worked, obviously,” he adds as he tilts his glass toward me. “Hmm.” I sip my drink in disgust. “Just a little.” “What did she look like?” “Long bleached-blonde hair and huge silicone lips and boobs and eyelashes and fake tan and everything I’m not.” “Hmm.” He listens intently. “Like Backseat Barbie on crack.” He chuckles. “Everyone loves a Backseat Barbie.” I look over at him in disgust. “This is probably where you should tell me that all men hate Backseat Barbies, Jim. Don’t you know anything about polite plane-conversation etiquette?” “Obviously not.” He frowns as he considers my statement. “Why would I do that?” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point. “To be nice.” “Oh, right.” He frowns as if bracing himself to lie. “Emily ... all men are repulsed by Backseat Barbies.” I smile as I tip my glass to him. “Thank you, Jim.” “Although ...” He pauses for a moment. “If they give good head ...” What the hell? I snort my champagne up my nose and choke. That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of his mouth. “Jim,” I splutter as it sprays everywhere. He laughs as he grabs his napkins and hands them over, and I wipe the drink dribbling from my chin. “Men who look like you are not supposed to talk about head.” I cough. “Why not?” he asks incredulously. “And what do you mean, men who look like me?” “All serious and stuff.” He looks at me deadpan. “Define stuff.” “You know, older, rich, and bossy.” His eyes dance with delight. “And what gives you the impression that I’m rich and bossy?” I exhale in an overexaggerated way. “You look rich.” “How do I?” “Your fancy watch. The cut of your shirt.” I glance down at his shoes. “I’ve never seen shoes like that before. Where did you even get those?” “In a shop, Emily.” He looks at his watch. “And I’ll have you know that this watch was a gift from a girlfriend.” I roll my eyes. “I bet she’s a vegan yoga nut.” He smirks. “I know your type of woman.” “Really.” He leans closer. “Please go on—this character analysis is fascinating.” I smile as a little voice from my subconscious screams, Stop drinking, fool! “I’m assuming you live in New York.” “Correct.” “In an apartment.” “Affirmative.” “You probably work at some ritzy company.” He smiles; he likes this game. “Perhaps.” “You would have a girlfriend or ...” I glance down. “You don’t wear a wedding ring ... so perhaps you cheat on your wife when you travel for work?” He chuckles. “You really should make a profession out of this. I’m amazed at the accuracy.” I like this game too; I smile broadly. “What do you think about me?” I ask. “What was your first impression when I walked onto the plane?” “Well.” He frowns as he considers the question. “Do you want the politically correct version?” “No. I want the truth.” “Right ... well, in that case, I noticed your long legs and the curve of your neck. The dimple in your chin. You are the most attractive woman I’ve seen in a long time, and when you smiled, it brought me to my feet.” I smile softly as the air swirls between us. “And then you spoke ... and ruined everything.” Chapter 3 What? I burst out laughing. “I ruined everything? How did I ruin everything?” “You’re bossy, with a sarcastic snark.” “What’s the problem with that?” I stammer in outrage. “Well, I’m bossy and sarcastic.” He shrugs. “And?” “And I don’t want to date myself. I like sweet, demure girls, the ones who do what I say.” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “The ones who clean the house and have s3x on Saturdays.” “Precisely.” I laugh and hold my glass up to clink with his. “You’re not bad for a boring old guy with weird shoes.” He laughs. “And you’re not bad for a young, hot smart-ass.” “Do you want to watch Magic Mike XXL with me?” I ask. “I suppose, although I should let you know ... I am an ex-stripper myself, so this is nothing new for me.” “Really?” I try to hide my smile. “You’re good on a pole?” His eyes hold mine. “My pole work is the best in the country.” The air crackles between us, and I have to concentrate on stopping my inebriated mouth from saying something slutty. He pushes the screen and taps through to Magic Mike XXL ... and I smile broadly. This man is so unexpected. First class is definitely the way to fly. Six hours later “Okay, next question. The weirdest place you’ve ever had s3x?” he whispers. I smirk. “You can’t ask me that.” “Yes, I can. I just did.” “It’s rude.” “Says who?” He looks around. “It’s just a question, and nobody is listening.” Jim and I have talked and whispered and laughed our way through the entire flight. “Hmm.” I think out loud. “That’s a tough one.” “Why?” “I’m on a bit of a drought at the moment. I can hardly remember any s3x.” “How long?” He frowns. “Oh.” I look to the ceiling as I think. “I haven’t had s3x in like ... eighteen months.” His face falls in horror. “What?” “It’s lame, isn’t it?” I wince. “Very. You need to up your game. They’re very bad statistics, indeed.” “I know.” I giggle. Boy ... we’re so tipsy. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?” I whisper. “You’re just some random guy I met on a plane.” “Who happens to be very interested in the subject.” “Why is that?” He leans in and whispers to me so that the flight attendants can’t hear us. “I don’t understand how someone as hot as you doesn’t get fucked three times a day.” I stare at him as I feel a tingle all the way to my toes. Stop it. This guy is too old for me and so not my type. His eyes drop to my lips, and the air between us zaps with electricity. “How long are you in New York?” he asks. I watch his tongue dart out and lick his bottom lip in slow motion. I can almost feel it between my ... “Just the afternoon. I have my interview at six tonight, and then I catch the last flight out,” I whisper. “Can you change your flight?” Why? “No.” He smirks as he watches me, and it’s obvious he’s imagining something. “What?” I smile. “I wish we were on a private jet.” “Why is that?” His eyes drop to my lips once more. “Because I’d break that drought of yours and initiate you into the Miles-High Club.” I get a visual of climbing on top of him, right here, right now. “It’s Mile-High Club ... not Miles,” I whisper. “No ... it’s Miles.” He smirks as his eyes darken. “Trust me—it’s Miles.” Something inside me snaps, and suddenly I want to say something crazy and out of the ordinary. I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “You know, I’ve never fucked a stranger before.” He inhales sharply as his eyes hold mine. “Do you want to fuck a stranger?” he murmurs as arousal thrums between us. I stare at him. This is so out of character for me. This man makes me ... “Don’t be shy,” he whispers. “Tell me, if we were alone right now ...” He pauses as he chooses his words. “What would you give me, Emily?” My eyes search his, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lack of s3x or the fact that I know I’ll never see him again ... or perhaps I’m just a total ho. “Me,” I breathe. “I would give you me.” Our eyes lock, and as if forgetting where we are, he leans forward and cups my face in his hand. His eyes are so blue, and a wave of arousal sweeps through me at his touch. I want this man. I want all of this man ... every last drop. “Hot towel?” Jessica the flight attendant asks. We jump back from each other, embarrassed. What must they think of us? They’ve been watching us flirt shamelessly for the entire trip. “Thank you,” I stammer as I take the towel from her. “There’s a snowstorm in New York, and we’re going to circle for a while to see if we can land,” she says. “What happens if we can’t?” Jim asks. “We will fly on to Boston and have an emergency layover for the night. You will be accommodated in a hotel, of course. We’ll know in the next ten minutes. I’ll keep you updated.” “Thank you.” She walks off to the other side of the plane and out of earshot, and Jim leans over and whispers, “I hope New York freezes the fuck over.” Nerves dance in my stomach. “Why is that?” “I have plans for us,” he whispers darkly. I stare at him as my brain misfires. I’ve been prick teasing like a pro, but I’m really not that kind of girl. It’s easy to be brave and slutty when there’s no chance of anything happening. I begin to perspire. Why did I get so damn tipsy? Why did I tell him about my drought? That’s supposed to be kept private, fool. “Another drink?” Jim whispers. “I can’t—I have a job interview this afternoon.” “That won’t be happening.” “Don’t say that,” I stammer. “I want this job.” “Good evening, passengers; this is the captain speaking.” A voice comes over the loudspeaker, and I close my eyes. Shit. “Due to a snowstorm in New York, we will be flying on to Boston tonight and staying there. We will return to New York early in the morning. Sorry for any inconvenience this has caused, but safety is our priority.” My eyes meet Jim’s, and he gives me a slow and sexy smile and raises his eyebrow. Oh no. Chapter 4 “Don’t look so excited.” He smirks. “Jim ... ,” I stammer. Oh hell, how do I say this? “I’m not really the kind of girl who ...” My voice trails off. “Who fucks on first dates?” he says, finishing my sentence. “Yes.” I wince at the crudeness of that statement. “I just don’t want you to think ...” “I know. I wouldn’t,” he replies curtly. “I don’t.” “Good.” Relief fills me. “I was being flirty when I thought we were getting off and never seeing each other again.” “Right.” He smirks in amusement. “Not that I don’t think you’re great,” I add. “Because if I were that kind of girl, I would totally be into you. We would be fucking like ...” I pause as I try to think of an analogy. “Rabbits?” he offers. “Yes.” He holds both hands in the air. “I understand; platonic humans only.” I smile broadly. “I’m so glad you understand.” Seven hours later He slams me up against the wall as he struggles to pull my skirt up over my hips, and his open mouth ravages my neck. “Door,” I pant. “Open the damn door.” Oh God ... I’ve never felt this chemistry with anyone before. We’ve laughed and danced and kissed our way around Boston, and somehow he makes me feel at ease. It’s as if I do this type of thing every day, and it’s completely natural. The weird thing is, it feels right. The spontaneity of the situation I find myself in has me feeling all brave. This man is witty and funny and dirty as all hell, and in my opinion—which, in truth, could be totally screwed over with alcohol consumption at the moment—he’s worth the risk ... because I know I will never get the opportunity to be with a man like him again. I’ve died and gone to layover bad-girl heaven. Jim fumbles with the key, and we stumble into my room. Then he throws me onto the bed. My chest rises and falls as we stare at each other, and the air between crackles with electricity. “I’m not this kind of girl,” I remind him. “I know,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t want to corrupt you.” “But there is a drought,” I whisper. “So ... so dry.” He raises his eyebrows as he pants along with me. “This is true.” I stare at him for a moment as I try to clear my arousal fog. My s3x is throbbing and pleading for his body. “It would be a shame to ...” My voice trails off. “I know.” He licks his lips in appreciation as his eyes roam over my body. “Such a fucking shame.” He takes his shirt off over his shoulders, and my breath catches. He has a broad, muscular chest with olive skin and a scattering of hair that runs from his navel and disappears down into his pants. His hair is dark, and his eyes are a brilliant blue—but it’s the power behind them that has me aching for him to take me. There’s an edge to his touch that I’ve never felt before. He’s all male and pure domination. There’s no mistaking who’s in charge here. Something about this man has opened up another side of me that I didn’t know existed. I know he could have any woman in the world he wants. And at this moment, he wants me. There’s no denying the chemistry between us; it’s raw, honest, and all-consuming. He’s hardly touched me, and I already know that this night is special. Maybe fate has dealt me an ace for a change. With his eyes locked on mine and in slow motion, he unzips his pants and pulls his d1ck out. It’s big and hard, and my chest rises and falls as I watch him. My heart is in overdrive. Is this really happening? Oh. My. God. He begins to slowly stroke himself, and my mouth falls open as I stare, transfixed. I’ve never had a man touch himself in front of me before. Holy fucking shit. This is off the hook. He lifts one of his feet to the bed and really begins to let himself have it. The muscles in his shoulders and arms flex as he jerks himself hard, and my insides ripple in pleasure as I imagine it’s me doing it for him. This is like reality porn ... only ten times better. What the hell am I doing here? I’m a good girl, and good girls don’t do bad things with men like this. We don’t know the same people, we don’t live in the same city, and I may never see him again, and there’s an unexpected freedom in that. I can be different. Whoever he wants me to be. His eyes are locked on mine, and his jaw clenches. “Get over here and suck my c0ck, Emily,” he murmurs darkly. God, yes. I thought he’d never ask. I scurry to my knees, desperate to please him. I don’t know anything about this guy, but I do know that at this moment, I want to be the best s3x he’s ever had. I take him in my mouth as I pretend to be the deep-throat champion of the world. I fist him hard as my hand follows my lips. It’s been so long, and I feel my s3x clench, my org@sm close just from the taste of his preejaculate. “Fuck ... so good,” I murmur around him. “The taste of you is going to make me come.” He tips his head back to the sky and closes his eyes. “Naked. I need you fucking naked,” he growls with urgency. He drags me off the bed and in one moment has my skirt and panties on the floor. He pulls my shirt off over my head and throws my bra to the side. Then he stops still ... and in slow motion, with his hands clenched by his sides, his eyes drop down my body. He drinks me in, and I feel the heat as his gaze skims my skin. My world stops spinning, and I stand before him naked and vulnerable, waiting for his approval. This is new for me. I’ve never been with a man who’s so dominant and commanding. His eyes, his voice, his every touch reminds me of who I am with and how much his pleasure means to me. I feel like I want to rise to the challenge, and the primal urge to satisfy him is taking me over. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re blazing with desire. An undercurrent of darkness and tenderness runs between us. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how a man looks at a woman when every ounce of his being wants her. Because I swear to God, I’ve never seen this look before in my life. “On your back,” he murmurs. My face falls in fear. He takes me in his arms and kisses me deeply as he holds my face in his hands. “What is it?” he breathes. “It’s ... it’s been a long time,” I pant. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers softly, which eases my fears. His mouth takes mine, his tongue slowly sliding through my open lips with just the right amount of suction. My knees nearly buckle underneath me. He lays me down and spreads my legs and smiles darkly as he kisses his way down my body. I stare at the ceiling as I try to control my erratic breathing; no amount of alcohol could have prepared me for this. He lifts my legs and puts my feet onto his strong shoulders and then drops my knees wide. I am completely open for him, and he takes me with no reservations and sucks hard. I buck off the bed. “Ah!” I cry. But he gives me no mercy as he drives three of his thick fingers into my s3x and begins to pump me hard. Shit ... can’t we ease into it, at least? His tongue is on my clitoris, and his fingers are on my G-spot. What the actual hell is going on here? My body begins to quiver like a puppet ... his puppet. The man’s a god. My legs lift off his shoulders by themselves, and I convulse as a freight train of an org@sm rips through me. That took approximately five seconds. Oh hell. How embarrassing. Way to act cool. He chuckles as if he’s proud, and I throw the back of my forearm over my eyes to hide my face in shame. He pulls my arm away and takes my jaw in his hand and drags my face back to his. “Don’t hide from me, Emily. Not ever,” he commands. My eyes search his. This is too full on ... too much. This guy is too intense. “Answer me.” “What do you want me to say?” I whisper. “Say yes so that I know you understand.” The air crackles between us. “Yes,” I breathe. “I understand.” “Good girl,” he whispers as he leans in and kisses me again. His tongue is soft stroking perfection, and my legs open by themselves once more. He gets up and takes four condoms from his wallet, opens one, and hands it to me. “Put it on me.” I take it from him and bend to kiss him softly on his d1ck before I roll the condom on. “You’re very bossy.” I smirk. He smiles broadly as he falls onto his back, pulls me over him, and drags my face to his. “You’ll fuck me first,” he murmurs against my lips, “and then I’ll fuck you when you’re warmed up.” I smile against his mouth. “I only fuck once, big boy, and then I fall asleep.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile. I straddle his large body as our kisses become desperate. His thick c0ck is up against his stomach, and he holds it in the air and guides my hips down over him. Oh, the burn—he’s big. “Ow,” I whimper. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Wiggle from side to side.” He cups my breasts in his hands as he stares up at me in what seems like awe. I smile down at him. “What?” “From the moment I saw you on the plane today, I wanted you riding my c0ck.” I giggle down at him. “Do you always get what you want?” “Always.” He grabs my hips and slams me down, and our mouths fall open in pleasure. Oh ... he’s ... “So fucking tight,” he grinds out. With our eyes locked, he slowly moves me up and down, and I can feel every vein on his thick shaft. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at me, and I lean forward and kiss him softly. “Do you know how perfect you feel inside me?” I whisper, and then I lick his open mouth. His eyes roll back in his head. “You are one hot fuck.” He picks me up by the hip bones and slams me back down on his c0ck, and I laugh out loud at the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the hilt. “God, fill me up,” I moan. “Give it to me,” I beg. I love how he’s losing control. It’s making me crazy. And then as if in some kind of alternate universe, my mouth latches on to his neck, and I suck hard as I ride him. He hisses, and as if he’s completely losing control, he bucks me off and pulls out and throws me onto my back. He lifts my legs over his shoulders and slams in deep—so deep that the air is knocked from my lungs. I smile. So he likes dirty talk, does he? Well, that just happens to be my specialty. Game on. ******************* There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
I met a gorgeous blue-eyed stranger on a plane. After two glasses of wine, I made the worst confession possible. “I haven’t had s3x in eighteen months.” His jaw dropped. “Eighteen months? That’s unacceptable.” I groaned. “Why am I telling you this? You’re just some random guy.” He leaned in, voice low and amused. “Not random,” he murmured. “I’m the man who plans to fix that.” ----------------- “I’ve upgraded you. First class, enjoy your flight." Oh, thank God. Finally, some good news. I’ve just spent the last forty-eight hours in hell. I flew across the world to go to a wedding, only to watch my ex-boyfriend drape himself over his new girlfriend. And the bad weather delayed most flights. “Thank you so much,” I gush. He gives me a wink, and I could just reach over and hug him. But of course I won’t. I’ll pretend that cool things like this happen to me every day. “Thanks again.” I smile. “You have access to the VIP lounge, which is located on level one. Lunch and drinks are on the house in there. Have a safe flight.” With one last smile, he looks back to the line. “Next, please.” I walk through the baggage checks with a huge goofy grin on my face. First class—just what the doctor ordered. Three hours later, I walk onto the plane like a rock star. I didn’t end up going into the VIP lounge because, well ... I look like crap. My long dark hair is up in a high ponytail, and I’m wearing black leggings, a baggy pink sweater, and tennis shoes, but I did fix my makeup a little, so that’s something. If I had known I was going to be upgraded, I would have at least tried to look the part and worn something swanky instead of looking like a homeless person. But anyway... who cares? It’s not like I’m going to see anyone I know. I hand my ticket over to the flight attendant. “Just through the left aisle and to the right.” “Thanks.” I look at my ticket and walk through the plane and see my number. 1B. Damn it, I don’t have a window. I get to my seat, and a man sitting next to the window turns to me. Big blue eyes greet me, and he smiles. “Hello.” “Hi,” I say. Oh no ... I’m sitting next to God’s gift to women... only he’s hotter. I look like shit. Fuck it. I open the overhead, and he stands. “Here, let me.” He takes my bag from me and carefully places it up. He’s tall and built and wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt; he smells like the best aftershave in history. “Thanks,” I murmur as I pull my hand through my ponytail, trying to smooth out the knots. I mentally kick myself for not wearing something better. “Do you want the window seat?” he asks. I stare at him as my brain misfires. He gestures to the seat beside the window. “You don’t mind?” I frown. “Not at all.” He smiles. “I fly all the time. You can have it.” I force a smile. “Thanks.” That was code for “I know you got upgraded, you poor homeless person, and I feel sorry for you.” I sit down in my seat and look nervously out the window, with my hands clasped in front of me on my lap. “Are you going home?” he asks. I turn to him. Oh, please don’t talk to me. You make me nervous just sitting there. “No, I’ve been at a wedding, and I have a job interview in New York on the way home. I’m only there for the day, and then I fly out again to LA. I live there.” “Ah.” He smiles. “I see.” I stare at him for a moment; I should ask him a question now. “Are ... you going home?” I say. “Yes.” I nod, unsure what to say next, so I choose the lame option and stare back out the window. The attendant walks around with a bottle of champagne and glasses. Glasses. Since when do airlines give you a real glass? Oh right, first class. I knew that. “Would you like some champagne to take off with, sir?” the flight attendant asks him. I notice that her name tag says JESSICA. “That would be lovely.” He smiles and turns to me. “Make that two, please.” I frown as she pours two glasses of champagne and passes one to him and one to me. “Thank you.” I smile. I wait for Jessica to move out of earshot. “Do you always order drinks for other people?” I ask. He looks surprised by my statement. “Did it bother you?” “Not at all,” I huff. Damn this Mr. Fancy Pants for thinking he can order for me. “I do like to order my own drinks, though.” He smiles. “Well, you can order the next ones, then.” He raises his glass to me and smirks; then he takes a sip. He seems amused by my annoyance. I stare at him deadpan. This could be victim number two of my cutting today. I am not in the mood for some rich old bastard to boss me around. I sip my champagne as I look out the window. Well, he’s not really old. Maybe mid- to late thirties. I mean, old compared to me; I’m twenty-five. But whatever. “I’m Jim,” he says as he holds his hand out to shake mine. Oh God, now I have to be polite. I shake his hand. “Hi, Jim. I’m Emily.” His eyes dance with mischief. “Hello, Emily.” His eyes are big, bright blue, and dreamy, the kind I could get lost in. But why is he looking at me like that? The plane begins to travel slowly down the runway, and I look between the earphones and armrest. Where do these plug in? They’re high tech, the kind that overconfident YouTubers use. They don’t even have a cord. I look around. Well, this is stupid. How do I plug them in? “They’re Bluetooth,” Jim interrupts me. “Oh,” I mutter, feeling stupid. Of course they are. “Right.” “You haven’t flown first class before?” he asks. “No. I got an upgrade. I think the guy at the desk felt sorry for me.” I give him a lopsided smile. He rolls his lips as if amused and sips his champagne; his eyes linger on my face as if he has something on his mind. “What?” I ask. “Perhaps the guy at the desk thought you were gorgeous and upgraded you to try to impress you.” “I hadn’t thought of that.” I sip my champagne as I try to hide my smile. That’s an odd thing to say. “Is that what you would do?” I ask. “If you were at the desk, would you upgrade women to impress them?” “Absolutely.” I smirk. “Impressing a woman you’re attracted to is crucial,” he continues. I stare at him as I try to get my brain to keep up with the conversation. Why does that statement sound flirty? “And do tell ... how would you impress a woman you’re attracted to?” I ask, fascinated. His eyes hold mine. “Offer her a window seat.” The air crackles between us, and I bite my lip to hide my goofy smile. “You’re trying to impress me?” I ask. Chapter 2 He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “How am I doing?” I smirk, unsure what to say. “I’m simply saying that you’re attractive, nothing more and nothing less. Don’t read into it. It was a statement, not a question.” “Oh.” I stare at him, lost for words. What do I even say to that? Statement, not a question ... huh? Don’t read into it. This guy is weird ... and utterly gorgeous. The plane begins to take off with speed, and I hold on to my armrests and scrunch my eyes shut. “You don’t like takeoffs?” he asks. “Do I look like I like takeoffs?” I wince as I hang on for dear life. “I love them,” he replies casually. “I love the feeling of power as it surges forward. That g-force throwback.” Okay ... why is everything coming out of his mouth sounding s3xual? God, I need to get laid ... stat. I exhale and stare out the window as we go higher and higher. I don’t have the energy for this guy to play cute today. I’m tired, I’m hungover, I look crappy, and my ex is a douche. I want to go to sleep and wake up next year. I decide I’ll watch a movie. I begin to flick through the choices on the screen in front of me. He leans over and says, “Great minds think alike. I’m watching a movie too.” I fake a smile. Just stop being all hot and in my space. You’re probably married to a vegan yoga nut who does meditation and shit. “Great,” I mutter deadpan. I should have flown coach; at least I wouldn’t have had to inhale the scent of beautiful man for eight long, sexless hours. I scroll through my screen and then narrow it down to my choices. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Pride and Prejudice. The Heat. Jumanji ... well, that has the Rock in it—it has to be good. Notting Hill. The Proposal. 50 First Dates. Bridget Jones’s Diary. Pretty Woman. Sleepless in Seattle. Magic Mike XXL. I smile at the choices, all of my favorites lined in a row; this flight is going to be a dream. I haven’t seen the sequel to Magic Mike yet, so I might start with that one. I glance over to look at what Jim has picked, and I see the heading come up. Lincoln. Ugh ... a political movie. Who watches that stuff for fun? I should have known he’d be boring. He reaches up and taps the screen, and I catch sight of his watch. A chunky silver Rolex. Ugh, and he has money too. Typical. “What are you going to watch?” he asks. Oh no ... I don’t want to appear ditzy. “I’m not sure yet,” I reply. Damn you ... I want to watch men strip. “What are you watching?” I ask. “Lincoln. I’ve been meaning to see it for a long time.” “Sounds boring,” I say. He smiles at my answer. “I’ll let you know.” He puts his earphones on and begins to watch his movie, and I scroll through my choices again. I really want to watch Magic Mike XXL. Does it matter if he sees? No ... that’s just embarrassing. It makes me look desperate. Who am I kidding? I am desperate. I haven’t seen a d1ck in over a year. I tap on The Proposal. I’ll swap one fantasy for another. I’ve always dreamed of having Ryan Reynolds as my personal assistant. The movie begins, and I smile at the screen. I love this movie. No matter how many times I watch it, I always laugh. Gammy is my favorite. “You’re watching a romance?” he asks. “A rom-com,” I reply. For God’s sake, this guy is nosy. He smirks as if he’s better than me. “More champagne?” the flight attendant asks. Blue Eyes looks over at me. “Here’s your chance to order for us.” I stare at him flatly; all right, he’s beginning to piss me off now. “We’ll have two, please.” “What do you like about rom-coms?” he asks as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him. “Men who don’t talk during movies,” I whisper into my champagne glass. He smiles broadly to himself. “What do you like about ...” I pause because I don’t even know what Lincoln is about. “Political films?” I ask. “The fact that they’re boring as all hell?” “I just like true stories, regardless of what they are.” “So do I,” I reply. “That’s why I like romance. Love is true.” He chuckles into his glass as if amused. I glance over at him. “What does that mean?” “Rom-coms are as far from reality as you can get. I bet you’re the type who reads trashy romance novels too.” I stare at him flatly. I think I hate this man. “I am, actually ... and if you must know, I’m watching Magic Mike XXL after this so I can watch gorgeous men take their clothes off.” I sip my champagne in annoyance. “And I’ll smile through the whole damn thing, regardless of your snooty judgment.” He laughs out loud, and it’s deep and strong and does things to my stomach. I put my headphones back on and pretend to focus on my screen. I can’t, though, because I just totally embarrassed myself, and I can feel myself blushing. Stop talking. Two hours later, I sit and stare out the window. My movie is over, but his scent is not. It’s surrounding me, taunting me with things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. How does he smell so good? Unsure what to do without seeming awkward, I decide I’ll take a nap, try to sleep through the next few hours, but first I need to go to the bathroom. I stand. “Excuse me.” He moves his legs a little but not enough for me to fit through, and I have to lean over him to get past. I stumble and fall and put my hand on his thigh; it’s large and hard to my touch. “I’m so sorry,” I stammer, embarrassed. “That’s fine.” He smirks up at me. “More than fine.” I stare at him for a moment. Huh? “There’s a method to my madness.” I frown. What does that mean? I make my way past him and go to the bathroom, and then I walk around and stretch my legs a little as I ponder that statement. I’m stumped—I’ve got nothing. “What did you mean by that?” I ask as I fall back into my seat. “Nothing.” “Did you give me the window seat so I would have to climb over you?” He tilts his head to the side. “No, I gave you the window seat because you wanted it. Climbing over me was just an added bonus.” I stare at him as I struggle to respond. Am I imagining this? Older rich guys don’t usually speak to me like this ... at all. “Are you flirting with me, Jim?” I ask. He gives me a slow, sexy smile. “I don’t know. Am I?” “I asked you first, and don’t answer my question with a question.” He smirks as he turns his attention back to the television screen. “This is probably where you should start flirting back ... Emily.” I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I try to hide my stupid smile. “I don’t flirt. I either want a man or I don’t,” I announce. “Is that so?” he says as if fascinated. “And how long after you meet a man do you make that decision?” “Instantaneously,” I lie. That’s not true, but I’ll pretend. Faking confidence is my superpower. “Really?” he whispers as the flight attendant walks past us. “Excuse me, can we have two more champagnes, please?” he asks her. “Of course, sir.” His eyes come back to meet mine. “Well, do tell. What was your first impression of me?” I pretend to look around for Jessica the flight attendant. “You may need something stronger to drink to hear this, Jim. You’re not going to like it.” He laughs out loud, and I find myself smiling broadly as I watch him. “What’s funny?” I ask. “You are.” “Why am I funny?” I frown. “This sense of righteousness that you have.” “Oh, like you don’t have that too ... Mr. I’ll Have Two Champagnes.” Our drinks arrive, and he smiles as he passes mine to me. His eyes linger on my face as he takes a sip. “What were you doing in London?” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “I flew over for a friend’s wedding, and to be honest, I wish I hadn’t gone.” “Why not?” “My ex was there with his new squeeze, and he was being over-the-top affectionate with her to piss me off.” “Which worked, obviously,” he adds as he tilts his glass toward me. “Hmm.” I sip my drink in disgust. “Just a little.” “What did she look like?” “Long bleached-blonde hair and huge silicone lips and boobs and eyelashes and fake tan and everything I’m not.” “Hmm.” He listens intently. “Like Backseat Barbie on crack.” He chuckles. “Everyone loves a Backseat Barbie.” I look over at him in disgust. “This is probably where you should tell me that all men hate Backseat Barbies, Jim. Don’t you know anything about polite plane-conversation etiquette?” “Obviously not.” He frowns as he considers my statement. “Why would I do that?” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point. “To be nice.” “Oh, right.” He frowns as if bracing himself to lie. “Emily ... all men are repulsed by Backseat Barbies.” I smile as I tip my glass to him. “Thank you, Jim.” “Although ...” He pauses for a moment. “If they give good head ...” What the hell? I snort my champagne up my nose and choke. That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of his mouth. “Jim,” I splutter as it sprays everywhere. He laughs as he grabs his napkins and hands them over, and I wipe the drink dribbling from my chin. “Men who look like you are not supposed to talk about head.” I cough. “Why not?” he asks incredulously. “And what do you mean, men who look like me?” “All serious and stuff.” He looks at me deadpan. “Define stuff.” “You know, older, rich, and bossy.” His eyes dance with delight. “And what gives you the impression that I’m rich and bossy?” I exhale in an overexaggerated way. “You look rich.” “How do I?” “Your fancy watch. The cut of your shirt.” I glance down at his shoes. “I’ve never seen shoes like that before. Where did you even get those?” “In a shop, Emily.” He looks at his watch. “And I’ll have you know that this watch was a gift from a girlfriend.” I roll my eyes. “I bet she’s a vegan yoga nut.” He smirks. “I know your type of woman.” “Really.” He leans closer. “Please go on—this character analysis is fascinating.” I smile as a little voice from my subconscious screams, Stop drinking, fool! “I’m assuming you live in New York.” “Correct.” “In an apartment.” “Affirmative.” “You probably work at some ritzy company.” He smiles; he likes this game. “Perhaps.” “You would have a girlfriend or ...” I glance down. “You don’t wear a wedding ring ... so perhaps you cheat on your wife when you travel for work?” He chuckles. “You really should make a profession out of this. I’m amazed at the accuracy.” I like this game too; I smile broadly. “What do you think about me?” I ask. “What was your first impression when I walked onto the plane?” “Well.” He frowns as he considers the question. “Do you want the politically correct version?” “No. I want the truth.” “Right ... well, in that case, I noticed your long legs and the curve of your neck. The dimple in your chin. You are the most attractive woman I’ve seen in a long time, and when you smiled, it brought me to my feet.” I smile softly as the air swirls between us. “And then you spoke ... and ruined everything.” Chapter 3 What? I burst out laughing. “I ruined everything? How did I ruin everything?” “You’re bossy, with a sarcastic snark.” “What’s the problem with that?” I stammer in outrage. “Well, I’m bossy and sarcastic.” He shrugs. “And?” “And I don’t want to date myself. I like sweet, demure girls, the ones who do what I say.” “Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “The ones who clean the house and have s3x on Saturdays.” “Precisely.” I laugh and hold my glass up to clink with his. “You’re not bad for a boring old guy with weird shoes.” He laughs. “And you’re not bad for a young, hot smart-ass.” “Do you want to watch Magic Mike XXL with me?” I ask. “I suppose, although I should let you know ... I am an ex-stripper myself, so this is nothing new for me.” “Really?” I try to hide my smile. “You’re good on a pole?” His eyes hold mine. “My pole work is the best in the country.” The air crackles between us, and I have to concentrate on stopping my inebriated mouth from saying something slutty. He pushes the screen and taps through to Magic Mike XXL ... and I smile broadly. This man is so unexpected. First class is definitely the way to fly. Six hours later “Okay, next question. The weirdest place you’ve ever had s3x?” he whispers. I smirk. “You can’t ask me that.” “Yes, I can. I just did.” “It’s rude.” “Says who?” He looks around. “It’s just a question, and nobody is listening.” Jim and I have talked and whispered and laughed our way through the entire flight. “Hmm.” I think out loud. “That’s a tough one.” “Why?” “I’m on a bit of a drought at the moment. I can hardly remember any s3x.” “How long?” He frowns. “Oh.” I look to the ceiling as I think. “I haven’t had s3x in like ... eighteen months.” His face falls in horror. “What?” “It’s lame, isn’t it?” I wince. “Very. You need to up your game. They’re very bad statistics, indeed.” “I know.” I giggle. Boy ... we’re so tipsy. “Why am I telling you all this stuff?” I whisper. “You’re just some random guy I met on a plane.” “Who happens to be very interested in the subject.” “Why is that?” He leans in and whispers to me so that the flight attendants can’t hear us. “I don’t understand how someone as hot as you doesn’t get fucked three times a day.” I stare at him as I feel a tingle all the way to my toes. Stop it. This guy is too old for me and so not my type. His eyes drop to my lips, and the air between us zaps with electricity. “How long are you in New York?” he asks. I watch his tongue dart out and lick his bottom lip in slow motion. I can almost feel it between my ... “Just the afternoon. I have my interview at six tonight, and then I catch the last flight out,” I whisper. “Can you change your flight?” Why? “No.” He smirks as he watches me, and it’s obvious he’s imagining something. “What?” I smile. “I wish we were on a private jet.” “Why is that?” His eyes drop to my lips once more. “Because I’d break that drought of yours and initiate you into the Miles-High Club.” I get a visual of climbing on top of him, right here, right now. “It’s Mile-High Club ... not Miles,” I whisper. “No ... it’s Miles.” He smirks as his eyes darken. “Trust me—it’s Miles.” Something inside me snaps, and suddenly I want to say something crazy and out of the ordinary. I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “You know, I’ve never fucked a stranger before.” He inhales sharply as his eyes hold mine. “Do you want to fuck a stranger?” he murmurs as arousal thrums between us. I stare at him. This is so out of character for me. This man makes me ... “Don’t be shy,” he whispers. “Tell me, if we were alone right now ...” He pauses as he chooses his words. “What would you give me, Emily?” My eyes search his, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lack of s3x or the fact that I know I’ll never see him again ... or perhaps I’m just a total ho. “Me,” I breathe. “I would give you me.” Our eyes lock, and as if forgetting where we are, he leans forward and cups my face in his hand. His eyes are so blue, and a wave of arousal sweeps through me at his touch. I want this man. I want all of this man ... every last drop. “Hot towel?” Jessica the flight attendant asks. We jump back from each other, embarrassed. What must they think of us? They’ve been watching us flirt shamelessly for the entire trip. “Thank you,” I stammer as I take the towel from her. “There’s a snowstorm in New York, and we’re going to circle for a while to see if we can land,” she says. “What happens if we can’t?” Jim asks. “We will fly on to Boston and have an emergency layover for the night. You will be accommodated in a hotel, of course. We’ll know in the next ten minutes. I’ll keep you updated.” “Thank you.” She walks off to the other side of the plane and out of earshot, and Jim leans over and whispers, “I hope New York freezes the fuck over.” Nerves dance in my stomach. “Why is that?” “I have plans for us,” he whispers darkly. I stare at him as my brain misfires. I’ve been prick teasing like a pro, but I’m really not that kind of girl. It’s easy to be brave and slutty when there’s no chance of anything happening. I begin to perspire. Why did I get so damn tipsy? Why did I tell him about my drought? That’s supposed to be kept private, fool. “Another drink?” Jim whispers. “I can’t—I have a job interview this afternoon.” “That won’t be happening.” “Don’t say that,” I stammer. “I want this job.” “Good evening, passengers; this is the captain speaking.” A voice comes over the loudspeaker, and I close my eyes. Shit. “Due to a snowstorm in New York, we will be flying on to Boston tonight and staying there. We will return to New York early in the morning. Sorry for any inconvenience this has caused, but safety is our priority.” My eyes meet Jim’s, and he gives me a slow and sexy smile and raises his eyebrow. Oh no. Chapter 4 “Don’t look so excited.” He smirks. “Jim ... ,” I stammer. Oh hell, how do I say this? “I’m not really the kind of girl who ...” My voice trails off. “Who fucks on first dates?” he says, finishing my sentence. “Yes.” I wince at the crudeness of that statement. “I just don’t want you to think ...” “I know. I wouldn’t,” he replies curtly. “I don’t.” “Good.” Relief fills me. “I was being flirty when I thought we were getting off and never seeing each other again.” “Right.” He smirks in amusement. “Not that I don’t think you’re great,” I add. “Because if I were that kind of girl, I would totally be into you. We would be fucking like ...” I pause as I try to think of an analogy. “Rabbits?” he offers. “Yes.” He holds both hands in the air. “I understand; platonic humans only.” I smile broadly. “I’m so glad you understand.” Seven hours later He slams me up against the wall as he struggles to pull my skirt up over my hips, and his open mouth ravages my neck. “Door,” I pant. “Open the damn door.” Oh God ... I’ve never felt this chemistry with anyone before. We’ve laughed and danced and kissed our way around Boston, and somehow he makes me feel at ease. It’s as if I do this type of thing every day, and it’s completely natural. The weird thing is, it feels right. The spontaneity of the situation I find myself in has me feeling all brave. This man is witty and funny and dirty as all hell, and in my opinion—which, in truth, could be totally screwed over with alcohol consumption at the moment—he’s worth the risk ... because I know I will never get the opportunity to be with a man like him again. I’ve died and gone to layover bad-girl heaven. Jim fumbles with the key, and we stumble into my room. Then he throws me onto the bed. My chest rises and falls as we stare at each other, and the air between crackles with electricity. “I’m not this kind of girl,” I remind him. “I know,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t want to corrupt you.” “But there is a drought,” I whisper. “So ... so dry.” He raises his eyebrows as he pants along with me. “This is true.” I stare at him for a moment as I try to clear my arousal fog. My s3x is throbbing and pleading for his body. “It would be a shame to ...” My voice trails off. “I know.” He licks his lips in appreciation as his eyes roam over my body. “Such a fucking shame.” He takes his shirt off over his shoulders, and my breath catches. He has a broad, muscular chest with olive skin and a scattering of hair that runs from his navel and disappears down into his pants. His hair is dark, and his eyes are a brilliant blue—but it’s the power behind them that has me aching for him to take me. There’s an edge to his touch that I’ve never felt before. He’s all male and pure domination. There’s no mistaking who’s in charge here. Something about this man has opened up another side of me that I didn’t know existed. I know he could have any woman in the world he wants. And at this moment, he wants me. There’s no denying the chemistry between us; it’s raw, honest, and all-consuming. He’s hardly touched me, and I already know that this night is special. Maybe fate has dealt me an ace for a change. With his eyes locked on mine and in slow motion, he unzips his pants and pulls his d1ck out. It’s big and hard, and my chest rises and falls as I watch him. My heart is in overdrive. Is this really happening? Oh. My. God. He begins to slowly stroke himself, and my mouth falls open as I stare, transfixed. I’ve never had a man touch himself in front of me before. Holy fucking shit. This is off the hook. He lifts one of his feet to the bed and really begins to let himself have it. The muscles in his shoulders and arms flex as he jerks himself hard, and my insides ripple in pleasure as I imagine it’s me doing it for him. This is like reality porn ... only ten times better. What the hell am I doing here? I’m a good girl, and good girls don’t do bad things with men like this. We don’t know the same people, we don’t live in the same city, and I may never see him again, and there’s an unexpected freedom in that. I can be different. Whoever he wants me to be. His eyes are locked on mine, and his jaw clenches. “Get over here and suck my c0ck, Emily,” he murmurs darkly. God, yes. I thought he’d never ask. I scurry to my knees, desperate to please him. I don’t know anything about this guy, but I do know that at this moment, I want to be the best s3x he’s ever had. I take him in my mouth as I pretend to be the deep-throat champion of the world. I fist him hard as my hand follows my lips. It’s been so long, and I feel my s3x clench, my org@sm close just from the taste of his preejaculate. “Fuck ... so good,” I murmur around him. “The taste of you is going to make me come.” He tips his head back to the sky and closes his eyes. “Naked. I need you fucking naked,” he growls with urgency. He drags me off the bed and in one moment has my skirt and panties on the floor. He pulls my shirt off over my head and throws my bra to the side. Then he stops still ... and in slow motion, with his hands clenched by his sides, his eyes drop down my body. He drinks me in, and I feel the heat as his gaze skims my skin. My world stops spinning, and I stand before him naked and vulnerable, waiting for his approval. This is new for me. I’ve never been with a man who’s so dominant and commanding. His eyes, his voice, his every touch reminds me of who I am with and how much his pleasure means to me. I feel like I want to rise to the challenge, and the primal urge to satisfy him is taking me over. When his eyes meet mine again, they’re blazing with desire. An undercurrent of darkness and tenderness runs between us. Perhaps I’ve forgotten how a man looks at a woman when every ounce of his being wants her. Because I swear to God, I’ve never seen this look before in my life. “On your back,” he murmurs. My face falls in fear. He takes me in his arms and kisses me deeply as he holds my face in his hands. “What is it?” he breathes. “It’s ... it’s been a long time,” I pant. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispers softly, which eases my fears. His mouth takes mine, his tongue slowly sliding through my open lips with just the right amount of suction. My knees nearly buckle underneath me. He lays me down and spreads my legs and smiles darkly as he kisses his way down my body. I stare at the ceiling as I try to control my erratic breathing; no amount of alcohol could have prepared me for this. He lifts my legs and puts my feet onto his strong shoulders and then drops my knees wide. I am completely open for him, and he takes me with no reservations and sucks hard. I buck off the bed. “Ah!” I cry. But he gives me no mercy as he drives three of his thick fingers into my s3x and begins to pump me hard. Shit ... can’t we ease into it, at least? His tongue is on my clitoris, and his fingers are on my G-spot. What the actual hell is going on here? My body begins to quiver like a puppet ... his puppet. The man’s a god. My legs lift off his shoulders by themselves, and I convulse as a freight train of an org@sm rips through me. That took approximately five seconds. Oh hell. How embarrassing. Way to act cool. He chuckles as if he’s proud, and I throw the back of my forearm over my eyes to hide my face in shame. He pulls my arm away and takes my jaw in his hand and drags my face back to his. “Don’t hide from me, Emily. Not ever,” he commands. My eyes search his. This is too full on ... too much. This guy is too intense. “Answer me.” “What do you want me to say?” I whisper. “Say yes so that I know you understand.” The air crackles between us. “Yes,” I breathe. “I understand.” “Good girl,” he whispers as he leans in and kisses me again. His tongue is soft stroking perfection, and my legs open by themselves once more. He gets up and takes four condoms from his wallet, opens one, and hands it to me. “Put it on me.” I take it from him and bend to kiss him softly on his d1ck before I roll the condom on. “You’re very bossy.” I smirk. He smiles broadly as he falls onto his back, pulls me over him, and drags my face to his. “You’ll fuck me first,” he murmurs against my lips, “and then I’ll fuck you when you’re warmed up.” I smile against his mouth. “I only fuck once, big boy, and then I fall asleep.” He gives me a slow, sexy smile. I straddle his large body as our kisses become desperate. His thick c0ck is up against his stomach, and he holds it in the air and guides my hips down over him. Oh, the burn—he’s big. “Ow,” I whimper. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Wiggle from side to side.” He cups my breasts in his hands as he stares up at me in what seems like awe. I smile down at him. “What?” “From the moment I saw you on the plane today, I wanted you riding my c0ck.” I giggle down at him. “Do you always get what you want?” “Always.” He grabs my hips and slams me down, and our mouths fall open in pleasure. Oh ... he’s ... “So fucking tight,” he grinds out. With our eyes locked, he slowly moves me up and down, and I can feel every vein on his thick shaft. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at me, and I lean forward and kiss him softly. “Do you know how perfect you feel inside me?” I whisper, and then I lick his open mouth. His eyes roll back in his head. “You are one hot fuck.” He picks me up by the hip bones and slams me back down on his c0ck, and I laugh out loud at the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the hilt. “God, fill me up,” I moan. “Give it to me,” I beg. I love how he’s losing control. It’s making me crazy. And then as if in some kind of alternate universe, my mouth latches on to his neck, and I suck hard as I ride him. He hisses, and as if he’s completely losing control, he bucks me off and pulls out and throws me onto my back. He lifts my legs over his shoulders and slams in deep—so deep that the air is knocked from my lungs. I smile. So he likes dirty talk, does he? Well, that just happens to be my specialty. Game on. ******************* There are limited chapters to put here, click “learn more” to open App to continue reading (It will automatically jump to the book)
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.
After World War III, Arthur Morgan is reduced to scraping by in the chaos, surviving on scavenged goods while being bullied and robbed by former high school classmates—until a chance discovery of alien technology changes everything. He rescues three women who become his wives and sets his sights on using this power to rise as the King of the Wasteland.