Could I pass him a note and tell him to meet me in the bathroom? But surely someone would see us, and as fun as the mile-high club thing seemed on paper, airplane bathrooms were gross.
But once we got to the Athletes’ Village, we would really officially be at the Olympics, and we’d be breaking our own rules.
Did I really give a shit? Yes and no. But Henry loved rules. I didn’t want to tempt him and have him regret it. I never wanted him to regret anything we did together.
He’d gotten more comfortable and said he was into topping, which really worked for me. Most guys assumed I was a top since I was outgoing and loud and did my whole sexy, powerful routine on the ice.
And sure, I’d love to top Henry if he wanted it, but he clearly didn’t at this point, so I hadn’t pushed for it. I was happy doing anything, but with him, I could really relax and trust that he’d fuck me as hard as I wanted without going too far.
I was getting turned on thinking about it, which was extremely inconvenient crammed in economy with our coaches and Henry out of reach. As of today, it’s all business. Deal with it. Suck it up.
No, don’t think about sucking.
Was this only a fling? That word echoed in my head, nagging and weirdly uncomfortable. This wasn’t the time to worry about that. Whether it was a fling or more didn’t matter until after the Olympics. This was go time. We’d had our last kiss in the back of the Lyft as we’d approached the terminal.
Leaning forward just enough, I watched Henry shifting in his seat, clearly trying to get comfortable, his eyes still closed. Until he opened them and looked right at me with that serious expression he wore so often.
My heart skipped, and we stared at each other, and all I could think about was the feel of his lips on my mine and how sleepy I’d been that morning. And that I needed one more kiss.
His chest rose with a deep breath, and he resolutely turned away, shifting to curl into the window.
I wanted to climb over Giselle and Bill onto Henry’s lap and kiss him breathless. Feel him inside me one more time. Just once more, and then we’d be good the next few weeks. But ugh, that airplane bathroom really couldn’t happen.
The rumor mill was probably already grinding away, although I’d know for sure if other people truly suspected about us when my mom lost her shit. Maybe her rink spy had taken pity on us.
Once more, once more, once more.
It was like a drumbeat, and I brainstormed ways we could be together before we got to the Olympic site. There was really only one option—the airport bathroom. There’d be one by baggage claim. But it would be busy, and we’d have no time. We’d have to be completely silent.
That thought had lust flaring bright and hot. Could we get away with it? Just one more time—then we’d be good.
Fidgeting, I rummaged through my backpack looking for gum. I should have dumped it out and reorganized it, but I’d packed in a hurry, eager to spend every minute with Henry. He surely had all his stuff zipped into neat compartments instead of floating around in the bottom of his bag.
My fingers brushed a foil packet. It was a stray condom, and a light bulb exploded in my head. I scrabbled around the bottom, hoping that maybe there would be—yes! A little packet of lube I’d gotten free at Pride in LA the summer before.
I knew exactly what to do.
Two hours later as I stood in the aisle waiting to deplane, my thumbs flew over my phone. I took casual glances toward Henry still in his seat, willing him to turn on his phone like everyone else. As the restless energy on board grew, he finally did.
His eyes widened as he read my message. He looked up at me, and for a horrible moment I thought he’d shake his head. But he gave me the barest nod before dropping his head.
Yes! I didn’t lube my ass for nothing.
The plane bathroom had been such a tight squeeze that it had been awkward doing that, and I couldn’t imagine actually fucking in there. Luckily, I’d remembered there were new bathrooms in the Calgary airport where the stalls were private and fully enclosed from floor to ceiling.
I grinned to myself.
This was probably stupid, and I should have let go of the idea of doing it one more time before our…hiatus. But I needed one more taste.
Speaking of which, I chewed a fresh piece of minty gum as we finally filed off the plane. I overtook several people on the walkway into the terminal, speeding to the bathroom, relieved we didn’t have to deal with customs.