Managed (VIP 2)

“You think if you sit there, looking petrified and tense, I’ll offer a blowjob to distract you from it all.”

My humiliation comes to a screeching halt upon hearing the word blowjob. “What?”

“Well, it’s not going to happen.”

Ignore the cock. Ignore him. He’s an idiot. Focus on the problem at hand. “You are deranged. Completely deranged.”

“And you are a handsome but crafty bastard. Unfortunately for you, good looks aren’t enough. I won’t do it.”

I lean in close as I dare. “Look, even if I wanted your mouth anywhere near me, why on Earth would I ask for a blowjob here?” I wave my hand toward the aisle. “When the entire cabin can see. Who does that?”

“Not me,” she shoots back with a disgusted look. “But nice slip of the tongue. You’ve obviously been thinking logistics.”

Must not throttle headcase. Gritting my teeth hard enough to hurt, I light into her. “Madam, if this death trap of a conveyance were hurtling toward the Earth in a fiery ball of doom, and your mouth on my cock was the last bit of sex I’d ever have the chance to receive, I’d take off my seatbelt and throw myself toward death.”

She blinks, those pansy eyes large and owlish and not a bit put out. “That’s a lot of words, sunshine. But I think you’re lying. You want it bad.”

My mouth works like a fish, gaping and struggling for air. I cannot think of a single thing to utter, which is a rarity. I might not converse with most people, but I’m fully capable of a set down when the action calls.

Over our heads, a little chime sounds. I glance at it and notice that the fasten seatbelt sign has been turned off. We’re level and steady now.

By the time I turn my attention back to the she-devil, she has her nose in a magazine, happily flipping through the pages, a tiny, smug smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

It hits me like a fist to the gut: she has been, yet again, fucking with me. She distracted me from takeoff. So effectively, I hadn’t even felt the plane lift. Now I’m stuck between grudging admiration, uncomfortable gratitude, and a burning need for revenge.

Revenge is the louder voice in my head, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. Leaning forward, I crowd her space, ignoring the scent of lemon tart that floats around her.

She tenses right up, her head jerking back, her body bolting straight. I love it.

“All right,” I murmur low in her ear, as she shivers and wiggles to get away. “You caught me. I do want oral satisfaction. Badly. Be a dear and take the edge off for me?”

She gasps, velvety skin going pale. “Are you kidding me?”

“We already went over this.” I reach beneath my seatbelt to undo my actual belt. “I’m in need, and it has to be you.”

“Whoa, wait a minute, buddy.” Her hand presses against my chest and quickly flinches back, as if the contact burns.

Oddly, it was rather warm, and I still feel the imprint of her hand through the layers of my clothes. I ignore that too and give her an exaggerated brow wiggle. “Don’t worry. I’ve a plan. Just pretend you have a headache and need to rest your head in my lap. I’ll put a blanket over you to block the light. They won’t even question your moans that way.”

I get my belt undone, as if I’m going to whip out my cock. “Better yet, I’ll close our seating compartment doors, and we’ll have complete privacy. You can really work me over then.”

A strangled sound leaves her. “You…nasty…I don’t believe this…”

“Oh, come on, love. Give us a suck, eh? Just a little teasing lick of the tip?”

Shite. I shouldn’t have said that. My cock perks up, liking that idea immensely. Her parted lips are red and soft and full… Get it together, you git.

I grin with all teeth, leaning close, even as she flushes bright red. “A little tug and bob. I’m so tense, it’ll only take five or ten minutes max.”

A choking sound dies in her throat, and I make a pained whimper. “Put me out of my misery, tarty girl.”

That does it. Her brows lift high. “Tart? Tart?!?” She bunts her nose against mine, her eyes dark slits of fury. “Suck you off? You pompous, arrogant—”

“Those words basically mean the same thing, sweets.”

“Dick-faced…” She trails off, rearing back a little, her gaze darting over my face. And then she smiles. It’s full-out and pleased, and I find myself a little light-headed with the speed at which she can change emotions. “Oh, well played, sunshine,” she drawls, grinning. “Well played. Caught on to my act, did you?”

I can’t meet her eyes or she’ll be on to me. This woman might be the most obnoxious person I’ve met on a plane, but she’s clearly intelligent. “Was that an act?”