Zoe almost didn’t recognize herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth bruised and open. Her eyes were nearly closed. She looked wanton, sexy…and thoroughly aroused.
He cupped her heavy breasts, brown fingers against the pale globes, and twisted the tips until they were distended. Lust like she’d never experienced coursed through her body. She thought she might faint from wanting him. She undulated her hips against his erection, and wanted her skirt to be gone. But when she reached for her hem, he clasped her hands and held them over her head.
“Soon,” he murmured, “but not yet.”
Holding both her hands with one of his, he wrapped his silk tie around her wrists again and again, then fashioned a loose knot. She could’ve gotten away if she wanted to, she thought distantly, but she didn’t want to. As he held her hands against the coolness of the mirror, he worked magic on her body with the other hand, lifting her skirt and reaching around to stroke her slick folds and massage her clit. Zoe moaned and writhed against him, urging him with her body to take her. But he seemed determined to torture her with pleasure.
He worked her clit and kissed her neck, watching her all the while. His eyes, his hands, his body…God, she thought she might explode. A vibration deep in her womb was wending its way to the surface, but too slowly. She ground herself against his fingers to hasten the release and at last, a fierce orgasm claimed her. He kissed her, absorbing her cries.
Zoe was vaguely glad that one of them had the presence of mind to keep from drawing attention to their cubicle. She seemed unable to think at the moment, unable to do anything but feel…feel the numbing in her hands from the constriction of the tie, feel the edge of the sink as it cut into the front of her thighs, feel the pressure of his big body against hers. She knew the length of him would stretch her limits. She was weak with wanting him inside her.
And despite his promise to make her wait, she could tell by the clench of his hands and the set of his jaw that he, too, was nearing his breaking point. She spread her legs wider and thrust back against him, impaling herself on the head of his cock. A guttural noise escaped him, and on their next breath, he filled her completely.
Zoe’s knees buckled from the sensory overload, but she leaned into the mirror and concentrated on keeping her eyes open. She wanted to see his face while he made love to her.
He was a beautiful man. His arms were long and muscular, his chest broad and covered with light hair. His face was ruggedly handsome and surprisingly expressive. From the pleasure playing over his face, he was enjoying the sex at least half as much as she was. Pure feminine satisfaction flooded her body as she met his long strokes, contracting her internal muscles around him. Not being able to use her hands helped her focus on other parts of her body—her nipples seemed ultrasensitive, and in this position, he seemed to be hitting a sweet spot…
Zoe came again, this orgasm more sudden and more intense. He put his arm in front of her mouth and she bit down to smother her cries. He buried his face in her hair, then climaxed with a powerful contraction of his hips. His muffled groan reverberated in her ear. In that moment, she felt utterly sated.
He pulsed inside her for a long minute, allowing them both to recover. Then he gently unwound his tie from her wrists and helped to retrieve stray pieces of clothing. Zoe covered her breasts with her sweater and combed her hair back from her face with her hand. “I’d like to stay and freshen up.”
He nodded and shrugged into his dress shirt, buttoning it and tucking it in with practiced ease. “Sure thing. By the way, that was amazing,” he said matter-of-factly as he threaded his belt through the loops of his slacks.
She was staggered at how relaxed they both were, and conceded that not nearly enough oxygen had fully returned to her brain. The incident certainly qualified as mind-blowing.
He looped the wrinkled tie around his neck and fashioned a loose Windsor knot. “Can I see you again?”
Zoe blinked in surprise—she hadn’t seen that coming. She’d just assumed that he was a traveling businessman looking for a quickie. In fact, she hadn’t believed him when he’d said he’d never done this before. But no matter what his motivation or his circumstances, she couldn’t ignore her own. “No, that’s not possible. I’m—” she held up her left hand and her diamond engagement ring twinkled back “—I’m getting married in a month.”
“Ah, I see,” he said with a little smile that hinted of disappointment.
“I don’t regret what happened,” she said. “I wanted it, too. But I’m sure you understand why it has to end here.”
“I do,” he said, then winked. “I guess that’s the groom’s line, though, isn’t it?”
She winced, then nodded. Her mind flashed to the black velvet ring box in Colin’s jacket pocket, but she didn’t mention it—she wasn’t even supposed to know it was there.
“Too bad,” he said, washing his hands in the sink and taking a minute to splash water on his face. For some reason, watching him wash up somehow seemed more intimate than what they had just shared. “It would’ve been a good time,” he said, tossing the paper towels in the trash. He stopped, his hand on the doorknob, his green eyes lit with renewed cheer. “Good luck, Zoe.”
“Thank you,” she said, feeling awkward for the first time since their encounter.
He started to say something, then changed his mind. His white upper teeth sank into his lower lip. “He’s a lucky bloke,” he said finally, then left and closed the door behind him.
Zoe locked the door, then leaned into the sink to face herself in the mirror. She looked as if she’d been ridden hard…and had enjoyed it. Shame mixed with remorse started a slow drip as Kevin, whose face she could barely visualize before, now seemed branded on her mind. He would feel so betrayed if he knew what she’d done…and how good it had felt.
So she would never tell him. She’d had her little fling with a man who made her knees weak and had even gotten a taste of light bondage. It was over…done. Now she could move forward with the life she and Kevin had planned together and wouldn’t have to wonder what she’d missed out on.
Can I see you again?
Moving quickly lest someone became suspicious of how long the bathroom had been occupied, she ran water in the sink and freshened up, then changed out of her uniform and into clothes that would travel well to the resort where she was staying in Sydney. Finally she rewound her hair into a thick knot at the nape of her neck.
Can I see you again?
When she emerged from the lavatory, passengers were beginning to rouse from their sleep. Light seeped into the cabin from windows that had been raised a few inches. She felt self-conscious as she made her way back to her seat, but no one seemed to know that she’d just had slam sex in the bathroom with a stranger.
Can I see you again?
Erica was awake and frowned at Zoe’s new outfit. They rarely changed clothes before leaving the plane. Zoe gave Erica a little wave that she hoped came off as casual before reclaiming her seat. But once she was settled, her gaze kept straying to the curtain that divided coach from first class.
Can I see you again?
“It wouldn’t work,” she murmured.
“Did you say something?” the funky black-haired woman sitting next to her asked.
Zoe turned. The woman’s eyes were indeed violet. How strange. Perhaps they were contact lenses. “No. I…was talking to myself.”
“Helpful habit,” the woman said with a smile. “It’s amazing what you can talk yourself into.”
“Or out of,” Zoe added ruefully.
“Careful