God-fucking-shit-dammit. This cannot be happening.
I may be awkward, but I’ve kissed. I’ve kissed plenty!
Or at least, I thought I had. I thought I knew what a kiss felt like. What it tasted like. I assumed I knew what passion was.
But Aleks kisses like he means it. And with every passing second, I understand more and more just how short-changed I’ve been my whole life.
I lean into him, greedily demanding more. Something is happening between my legs and my heart is thundering and my hands are needy. I’m not in control of myself anymore.
Which is why, when his lips leave mine in favor of tracing my neck, I’m shocked to realize I’ve somehow climbed into his lap. I’m straddling him.
My hands are roaming on his bare chest. Somehow, his shirt came unbuttoned. Not completely, but open to his stomach so that I have a partial view of abs that look like the goddamn Himalayas. I count two, four, six, eight.
He nips at my neck, which is apparently a direct connection to the heat between my legs, judging by how viscerally I react. I moan and reach for the waistband of his pants. My fingertips rub against the massive bulge in his crotch.
I’m not even remotely surprised to see that he’s packing. A man with that amount of self-assurance has to have a big dick, right? Or so Mia tells me. She’d know way better than I would.
If I stopped to analyze what I’m doing, maybe I’d be disappointed in myself. But right now, I can’t imagine regretting this. Not when he feels this good.
I jump as his hand slides underneath my shirt. His fingers are cool against my bare skin, but then again, at the rate my body is heating up, I suppose everything’s going to feel cool relative to me.
My lips are a millisecond away from his when, of all the godforsaken things that have happened to me already since Aleks swept into my life, the motherfucking Macarena starts blaring from my phone.
“Shit!” I blanche, swinging off his lap and landing quite ungracefully on the cushion next to him. “Sorry…”
I snatch up my phone, meaning to put it on mute, but then I see Mom’s number on the screen.
“Fuck,” I mumble, resolutely avoiding Aleks’s face before getting to my feet and accepting the call. I tug my sweater down to cover myself, as if she can see me. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey! Mia told me your flight was delayed. That’s terrible!”
“Hi, uh, yeah,” I stutter. I can feel Aleks’s gaze smoldering on the back of my head but I steadfastly ignore it. “Terrible.”
She tuts. “Are you going back home?”
“No, it takes too long to get there and back. I’m just going to hang out here.”
And do dirty things with a handsome stranger in a private lounge.
“Oh, no. Sounds boring,” she sighs.
I glance over at Aleks. He’s sitting on the sofa with his arms extended across the back of it, utterly and completely at ease. He hasn’t even bothered to button up his shirt. His erection is glaringly noticeable, but by the way he’s sitting there, calm and collected, you wouldn’t know it.
“… Honey?”
“Sorry, Mom,” I say quickly. “I’ll keep myself… occupied. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?!” she says in alarm.
“Ah, no, uh, today. I meant today,” I say, feeling all kinds of flustered. “I meant today.”
“You sure everything’s alright, darling? You sound awfully frazzled.”
“Of course, Mom. Just—it’s just, um… crowded. I’m waiting in line for cake,” I say, catching sight of the tray of cake and macarons on the table that we’ve completely ignored.
“Oh, how nice. A little sweet treat. Glad you’re enjoying yourself, honey.”
“Doing my best. See you soon, okay?”
“Okay. Safe flight. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I hang up.
My heated skin feels suddenly cold, and I shiver. Just when I thought I could be someone else for an hour, the real world had to barge in and remind me who I really am. Shy cartoonists who hide out in their bedrooms don’t get to join the Mile High Club. Except we aren’t in a plane, but whatever, close enough.
Aleks’s stare is still hot and insistent. Knowing I can’t delay the moment any longer, I slip my phone into my pocket and turn to him.
“Am I the treat?” he muses innocently.
“I… sorry, what?”
He smiles. It’s effortless—smooth and cocky and so fucking perfect that I want to scream about how unfair it is for someone to have it all. “Am I the ‘sweet treat’ you’re waiting in line for?”
I’ve never wanted the ground to open up so badly before. Or spontaneous combustion. That would be fine, too.
Seeing as how both of those are off the table, I give him a frantic, cringey laugh. “Um, I think I should wash my hands. You’re right: they are sticky.”
“Bathroom’s right behind you.”
“Thanks.”
I turn and walk at a very calm, very measured, not-at-all-hysterical pace straight for the tall beige door behind me.
As soon as I’m inside, I move right for the sink and grip the cool porcelain sides. “Jesus Christ, Liv!” I hiss to myself. “Get a fucking grip!”
I look up at my reflection in the mirror. There’s so much color on my cheeks that it actually looks like I’m wearing blush.
“It’s not like you’re going to see him again,” I whisper to my mirror self. “He’s just a handsome stranger looking to kill some time and you… well, you’re the girl who plays it safe.”
Living is for the brave. I hear the words as though Dad is right here with me, saying them to my face.
I turn on the water and wash my hands properly. Then I splash some of the cold water onto my face. Once I’ve dried myself off, I feel a little calmer.
“Come on, Liv. You can do this.”
I take one more breath and slip back out into the lounge. Aleks is still sitting on the same position on the sofa, erection still going strong.
I keep my gaze above the belt, as hard as that is—no pun intended—while I round the table and sit down next to him on the sofa. My choice of seat is a little awkward, though. Too far, as if I’m scared to get close.
Who knows? Maybe I am.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble when he doesn’t break the silence. “It was my mom. My sister told her about the flight being delayed and she just wanted to check on me.”
“You have a close family?”
“Very,” I confirm. “Moving to New York was the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my life.”
He cocks his head to the side as his gaze bores into mine. It’s hard for me to maintain eye contact when everything about this man is turning me on in ways I didn’t know were possible.
“Why did you?”
“I… I guess I was trying to be brave,” I admit.
“Why do you say that like you didn’t succeed?”
I raise my eyebrows. He’s perceptive. Which makes me even more uncomfortable with the fact that I’m sitting next to him soaking through my underwear.
“Because I used all my bravery just to make the move,” I admit. “Once I got here, I never left my apartment. I just sat at home and patted myself on the back for being here at all. But the only reason I did it is because I got a job. Without that, I definitely never would have come.”
He nods, non-judgmental but not letting me off the hook, either. “I see. And how did your family deal with the move?”
“Supportive, of course, but they miss me. Well, my mom and sister do, anyway. I don’t know about Rob.”
“Rob?”
“My brother,” I explain. “The one with the sailor mouth. We’re close, but he keeps his emotions close to the vest. He’s a tough guy.” I feel a little bit like my description of Rob is coming out all wrong. It’s not exactly painting him in a flattering light—not that Aleks cares, most likely, seeing as how the two of them are never in a million years going to cross paths. “What I mean is, he’s in the FBI. He has to be a certain way for his job. You know?”
“It’s clear how much you love them,” he says. “And how much they love you.”
I give him a grateful smile. “Yeah, well, we have our fair share of dysfunction beneath the surface, believe me.”
“Doesn’t every family?”
I laugh, feeling immediately at ease. It’s strange how easy it is to talk to him. Is it possible to have both great chemistry and great conversation with the same man?
I thought so once. When I was a kid. But around eighteen, I ditched the rose-colored glasses. The world isn’t nearly that kind.
“Forgive me for pointing this out,” Aleks says. “But it does feel a bit like you’re worried about this family reunion.”
Wow. “Perceptive” might be an understatement. “How did you guess that?”
He shrugs. “I’m a people watcher, too.”
“Well, you’re not wrong. Christmas is a hard time, anyway. It was my dad’s favorite holiday. Since he passed, it’s harder to get into the spirit,” I say. “And then, this year, Isabella won’t be with us, either. She was Rob’s fiancé.”
“Was?” Aleks inquires, picking up on the key word.
“She… disappeared,” I admit. “There was a small segment in the news when it happened. But the story faded away pretty quickly. Just not enough evidence to give us any leads.”
“That must have been hard on your family.”
“I’ve never seen Rob that way,” I admit. “It was the first time I was actually scared around him.” I take a deep breath. “He’s obsessed with finding her now. And sometimes, I actually believe he will. When Rob sets his mind on something, he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“We have that in common,” Aleks murmurs.
I want him to move closer, but he remains stubbornly on the far side of the sofa. Might as well be the far side of the moon, if my libido has anything to say about it. His arms are sprawled across the cushions on either side, his biceps doing delicious things to the thin material of his shirt.
Then, suddenly, there’s a buzzing sound. It’s not until Aleks speaks that I realize it’s a doorbell to the room we’re in.
“Enter.”
“I do apologize, sir,” the hostess says with a sickly sweet smile as she sticks her head in. “But I just wanted to inform you that your flight is ready to board.”
“Already?” I ask, glancing around for the time. “But we still have—” I stop short when I catch a glimpse of the clock hanging against the back wall. “Oh my God. I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.”
The hostess doesn’t even glance at me. She only has eyes for Aleks. It probably happens all the time. Women flirting with him, propositioning him, offering him things that I don’t even have the capacity to dream up.
It doesn’t matter, goes a little voice in my head. He’s not yours to keep.
But the moment I hear the thought, I feel a piercing sense of disappointment. This is the end of the road for our little rendezvous. After we get on that plane, we’ll be back to being strangers.
I should have put my fucking phone on silent.
We gather our things in silence and head to the gate. Aleks and I are the last two there. We’re hurried onto the jetway and into the plane, and I realize that I have to move past first class and leave Aleks behind.
Both literally and otherwise.
“Thanks for keeping me company, Aleks.”
He inclines his head once—and that’s it. That’s the big goodbye.
Which just proves that our encounter meant far more to me than it did to him.
I’m settling into the middle seat on the left hand side of the plane when a young flight attendant approaches me. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Are you Ms. Olivia Lawrence?”
“Um… I am, yeah. Why? Is something wrong? Did I—”
She beams from ear to ear. “Please follow me, ma’am.”
I stare at her in confusion. “I don’t get it. Where are we going?”
“First class, ma’am.”
“First class?” I say, gaping at her in confusion. “I don’t think so. There’s been some sort of a mistake.”
“No mistake, ma’am,” she says. “Mr. Makarova has requested your presence.”
