Offensive Behavior

She rolled her lips against her teeth to stop herself laughing. “Too soon.”

He unclipped his belt.

Oh. He gave her a game on look and stood. He had the aisle seat. He walked a half dozen strides up that aisle to the empty lavatory

and shut himself inside.

She drummed her feet on the floor. He’d gotten the jump on her. She’d been teasing, surely he knew that, right? He didn’t really expect her to . . . in there, did he? Oh God.

She knelt in her seat, looked around, trying to act casually, screwing it up. Passengers were reading, watching the entertainment console, most had headphones on and drinks in hand. No one paid any attention to her. She stood up in the aisle and went to the lavatories and then blanked on which one he’d entered. Both were occupied. Great reason to go sit down again. She squawked when a door folded open and Reid dragged her inside.

He was almost sitting in the sink. She banged her knee. He tried to close the door on her foot. He was laughing so hard and they’d made such a commotion, there was no way they’d get away with this.

He stood in the zero space between the toilet bowl and the sink, his back to the mirror, legs spread so she could stand between them. He had to keep his knees bent, back curled and head ducked.

“Is this the kinky part, Flygirl?”

He had his arms around her and she pressed against him, the backs of her knees against the toilet bowl. The tiny space smelled of floral antiseptic and pepper. It was hard to imagine a less romantic location, except for the look on Reid’s face. Soft eyes, the frowny tension in his forehead gone, a quirky smile that was somewhere between laughter and disbelief.

She got a hand to his cheek, via an elbow to the door. “Is this one of your fantasies?” Would he remember that conversation? The one that had her dance for him and led to spectacular sex.

“Not until a minute ago. Thought you were bluffing.”

“Thought you were.”

“No room to dance in here.” He remembered. That made her heat up from the inside.

This was still a stupid idea, but it wasn’t impossible. If he sat on the closed toilet lid. If he was halfway there and they were quick. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Jesus.” He boxed her face in his hands and brushed his nose on hers. “I was joking. We should get out of here.”

Inconvenient, unsanitary location, and imminent embarrassing discovery aside, she had to kiss him; impossible not to. He was so delightfully scandalized and easy to please. It was a longer, wetter kiss than was sensible for two people who were calling this crazy off.

Reid’s helpless groan vibrated in her chest and his lips did a nuclear fusion number on hers. This man put his body, his mind and his sanity in her hands and she loved it.

She broke his kiss with her own moan, but her newest ambition was taking his delight and making it awe. She sat on the closed toilet lid and put her hand to his belt. He jerked, smacking his head on the low ceiling.

“Zarley.” A warning she wasn’t taking because his voice dropped into that low, toffee molasses thick tone he got when he was turned on. “I don’t think—” She unzipped him. “Oh, fuck, you’re a goddess.”

After that he helped, getting clothing out of the way. He put one hand to the ceiling and gathered her hair in his other. “Need to see you.”

Need to be quick. She took him in her hand and rubbed her thumb lightly up his shaft, making the breath come out of him in a slow unsteady stream. With more time she could draw out the anticipation, have him out of his mind before he came. A slow lick following the path of her hand, and then she opened her mouth over the crown of his penis, a titillating flick of her tongue and she took him as deep as she could.

He banged his hand on the ceiling and his hips flexed and when she sucked, hollowing her cheeks, his chin dropped to his chest as if the vertebra in his neck had dissolved.

Not since Dalton, when everything was the first time and the experience was heightened by the sneaking around and the idea they were the only couple in the world to ever feel so in love, had another man responded to her like Reid did.

His reactions were an aphrodisiac and she would never have enough of them.

Not since Dalton had she felt what she felt for Reid. He’d snuck up on her and now he was in her blood.

“Going to—”

Yes, he was, and she wanted it.

Trying desperately not to pump his hips or make too much noise, he murmured her name over and over until all she could do was take in the torn wonder in his voice, clutch his shuddering thighs and swallow him down.

No sooner had she pulled off, and he dragged her up to his mouth for a kiss worth more than Paris. For a man who didn’t know how to kiss a few months ago, who still looked for a sign of permission if he wasn’t already half-cut open with lust, he topped the class.