Page 2 of Big Roomie

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Without looking at me or even looking away from her iPad, Lillian moves her knees to let me into the center aisle. I notice that most people are asleep as I head toward the bathrooms, their headphones on, travel pillows around their neck, eye masks blocking out the light. It’s been a horrendously long flight. For the most part, it’s been smooth, but just recently we’ve hit a patch of mild turbulence that’s caused my tummy to drop and my heart to pound.

As soon as the memory of those jolts and drops enters my mind, the plane lurches and I lurch forward. My feet leave the safety of the aisle. Suddenly I’m in the air. I brace myself for a painful impact, but instead of hitting something or landing on my face, I’m caught before I fall. A pair of strong, yet gentle arms engulf me in their safety. I open my eyes to see man who seems to have come out of nowhere. I didn’t see him in the aisle on my way to the bathroom, but then again, I wasn’t really looking. I was paying attention to all the sleeping people who are definitely not sleeping anymore. There are sounds of concern from the weary travelers. A baby starts to cry. The flight attendant assures people everything is okay and that we’re just going through a bit of turbulence. This only seems to comfort a handful of people. The rest still look around warily.

My heart races as I look up at the man who saved me from a humiliating face-plant. The first thing I notice is how big he is. Like, pro hockey player big. Muscles ripple through the sleeves of his shirt and he’s tall enough to dunk a basketball. I’m not tiny at five feet eight inches, yet he towers over me. His huge hands wrapped around my arms make me feel stable and secure even though he’s a complete stranger and I should feel just the opposite in this situation.

I look up at his face to say thank you, but my lips won’t move. My mouth is hanging open but I can’t seem to take that extra step needed to form words. My voice refuses to produce a sound. Hovering above my head is the most handsome face I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I’m not even exaggerating. He looks like a young Johnny Depp, all chiseled cheeks, square jaw, and mysterious deep-set eyes—but with the body of Jason Momoa. Dead serious. Everything about him renders me speechless.

“Are you okay?” he asks. His voice is deep with a little rasp to it, kind and concerned.

My voice still refuses to work so I nod my head instead.

The plane bucks again and this time we both tumble into the aisle. The overhead bins open, spilling bags onto the floors and passenger seats. There are shouts and complaints.

Fear gives way to mortification when I open my eyes and realize I’m lying on top of this stranger. My face is buried in the crook of his neck, and when I prop myself up on my elbow, I’m nose to nose with him. Lips hovering above lips as if we’re about to kiss. His eyes are looking at me, his lips curve up in an amused grin. My own go wide when I notice that in my frenzy to grab onto anything to hold onto as I went down, I grabbed onto his leg. Except his leg isn’t the only thing I’m hanging onto. I can feel the (rather large) shape of his dick beneath his jeans.

“I have to say, this is the first time I’ve ever been groped by a complete stranger on a plane,” he says playfully. “Can’t say I hate it.” He lets out a low chuckle that vibrates through my chest.

My face burns with humiliation. I scramble to get off of him, my embarrassment deepening when I’m forced to straddle him in order to get my legs beneath me in the narrow aisle. His smile grows and so does the heat in my cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I say when my voice finally comes back to me. When I stand up, I realize the impressive cock I was accidentally palming seconds before is now hard, creating a clear outline in his jeans. I blush, and he subtly tries to hide it with his hands. When I look into his eyes, he stares back, and something ignites inside of me. I swallow hard and run back toward my friends without another word as the captain instructs us to take our seats and the seatbelt light comes on.

Deb is laughing nervously. “That was a wild ride.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumble.

“Why is your face so red?” Lillian asks me. For the first time in hours, her headphones are off.


Tags: Penny Wylder Romance