Faking It For Mr Right

So I flash Xander a bold wink and take my time sliding across his lap toward the aisle. Before I straighten up the rest of the way, I bend to whisper in his ear. “See you in a minute, dirty boy.” Then I leave him behind at our seats and stride up through the first class cabin toward the empty and waiting bathroom.

I’m the first person inside, which means it’s still crystal clean. My heart pounds in my throat as I follow Xander’s instructions. I reach up my skirt, a cute jean skirt I haven’t worn in ages because I’m always either in pajamas or my work uniform for the restaurant, and hook a thumb under the thong I put on this morning. Okay, so maybe I was anticipating something to happen between Xander and me after all. But I didn’t expect it to happen this soon. Or this… well, boldly.

Still, I’m excited. I can tell when I tug the thong down and it peels away from my skin, already slick with my juices. I want him. Just thinking about him makes my clit ache and throb with desire. I finish stepping out of my panties and stuff them into the back pocket of my skirt just before a soft, quiet knock sounds at the door. It’s tight in the bathroom, but I step to one side and quickly, as quietly as I can, I pop the lock back open.

Xander slides into the narrow room and shuts the door again behind him. Neither of us breathe or make a sound until the lock slides into place once more. Even then, we’re quiet, and Xander turns to face me with an unreadable, fiery hot expression on his face. He drinks me in like he can’t quite believe I’m real.

I know the feeling. It’s the same thing I’m doing to him right now. Wondering how in the world I got lucky enough to wind up here, in the cabin of this extremely expensive first class plane ride, sizing up the hottest man I’ve ever seen. The guy who got away. The one I thought I’d never get the chance to touch again.

Just that thought is enough to spur me into motion. I close the distance between us—which isn’t far in the narrow space. This time when our mouths collide, it’s hot, hard, hungry. Everything I can’t bring myself to say with my voice, I say with my body and my lips in that moment. With my hands as they wrap around Xander’s neck and pull him down against me. With my hips as I arch them up into his, grinding against him, feeling the hard dig of his cock against my stomach already.

He’s already as hungry for me as I am for him. I can feel it in the strong surety of his arms as they encircle my waist. I can see it in his eyes when he leans back to gaze at me, hungry and filled with white-hot desire. He wants me every bit as badly as I want him.

“God, you are incredible,” he murmurs, and it makes me laugh softly, and burn hot all over at the same time. A full body blush. One that only continues as he tugs me back against him, his hands tracing down my sides, over the denim of my skirt to the hem, where his fingertips toy with the edge, dancing along the soft, warm flesh of my thighs.

“I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to do to you every single day since the last time I had my hands on you,” he murmurs, his lips against my neck, just before he kisses me, soft and slow, finding all the sweet spots that make me shiver and tighten my arms around his neck.

“I dreamt about your hands,” I whisper. “Your lips. Your tongue…”

In answer, he trails that tongue down, along the edge of my collarbone, his hands tugging my skirt higher, higher, revealing inch by inch of my thigh. His hands feel strong against my skin, digging in just enough to make me gasp with every inch closer to the core of me he moves. My thighs tremble, and I can already tell I’m soaking wet, just from the thought of him.

And the memory of last time.

“Did you touch yourself when you thought about me?” asks Xander, his voice low and dark with want. When I tilt my head, I catch him watching me, a coy smile on his mouth, his eyes hot enough to ignite me.

“A lot,” I breathe, unable to lie, not to his face, now with him looking at me like that.

His smile widens. “So did I.” His gaze drops over my body, lingering on my chest, my hips, my curves. “I thought of you in the shower. At my desk at work, when I wrapped my hands around my cock…. I remembered how it felt to be buried in that sweet, soft pussy of yours.”