Lexi cried out. Clenched. Arched.
Jax massaged her slick opening with his thumb as she shivered. “You taste like heaven. ”
He pulled his hand back and licked again. A deep groan vibrated in Lexi’s throat. The sexiest sound Jax had ever heard. He continued to slide his mouth over her, moving his tongue higher, across the smaller, tighter opening of her ass. Lexi gasped.
Intrigued, Jax licked her there again and again, eliciting almost frantic reactions—wire-tight muscles, hands fisted in the sofa, high-pitched sounds in her throat.
She was epically tight. This spot naughty to the nth with the potential for something wickedly extreme. And the thought of getting wicked with Lexi, of experiencing that ultimate thrill, shot his blood temperature off the charts.
He removed tantalization to other areas to isolate her response to that specific spot and caressed his thumb across the sweet pucker.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered as if she were on the edge of impending explosion.
“Do you like that?” He did it again.
She gasped, her fingers knotting the sofa cushions. He wet his fingers in her pussy and dragged them the short distance to caress again, adding slight pressure.
“Oh yes. ”
The creases around the small opening relaxed, contracted, relaxed, contracted. Imagining that happening around his cock almost pushed him over the edge.
He used his mouth to wet her, caressed the tight muscle with his tongue. Pushed inside, retreated, pushed in.
“Jesus…Jax…don’t stop. ”
Bing. Bing. Bing.
Bing. Bing. Bing.
Lights flashed behind his closed lids.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. The captain would like to let you know we will be landing in approximately twenty minutes. ”
“Fucking A,” Jax muttered. His chest heaved as he fought to adjust to reality. He ached from the roots of his hair to the balls of his feet. The area between his thighs throbbed, every inch engorged with too much blood. He pulled a bottle of water from the seat pocket and downed half. In his peripheral vision, he saw his neighbor awake and working on a laptop.
Jax capped his water and took another minute to get himself together. Glanced at his watch. Lexi filled his mind. Along with a shitload of angst, a million questions, and a sinking sensation of loss and disappointment. Of having just missed out on a golden opportunity, a lot like that time when his lousy agent hadn’t been on the ball and he’d missed out on the lead role in the Mission Impossible remake.
After that, he’d fired his agent and hired Cruise’s. He’d never missed out on a role again.
The flight attendant stopped at his row. She was in her midfifties with short, stylish red hair, light blue eyes, and a friendly smile. She held out a piece of paper. “A passenger asked me to give this to you. ”
Jax’s heart surged. When he went to take the paper, he grabbed the woman’s entire hand and held tight. Her expression shut down in shock.
“Which passenger?” he asked, way too much desperation in his voice.
“She asked me not to say. ” A stubborn anger darkened her eyes and deepened the minimal lines around her mouth. She pulled her hand from his, straightened, and gazed down at him with the kind of disapproval he’d seen far too often in his mother’s eyes. “I’m simply a messenger. If you have a problem, let me know. Otherwise, we’ll be on the ground in twenty minutes. Work it out then. ”
He swallowed, not quite prepared to open the message and get the big brush-off. He glanced at his neighbor, who was eyeing him like a bird in a cage might eye a cat lazing nearby.
Jax glanced out the window. Countryside passed on the distant ground. He was making way too much out of this. He just wanted the unknown. He just wanted what he’d gone too long without. He wanted her because that dream had pumped him to the edge of orgasm.
A deep breath cleared his head. Banished the desperation. There were plenty of women he could call on if he really needed to get off. But that wasn’t what this was about. He was trying to get to know her because, from what he’d discovered, he liked her. But he really didn’t have time for anything more than sex in his life anyway. So, ultimately, a brush-off would be a good thing.
Jesus, he could rationalize anything.
At least the brain twist had given him some control back. He even finished the water bottle before he opened the note.
Her handwriting was feminine, with thin lines, a slight slant, and trailing ends on her letters, almost a cross between cursive and print. The sight of it made him want to touch her. Made him want to look into her eyes.