“I think I know how to get you to settle down,” I said as I kissed the top of her head.
“I don’t want to take any medicine or anything like that, if that’s what you’re about to suggest,” Olivia said.
I shook my head against her hair as my driver popped open the trunk.
“Ever heard of the mile-high club?” I asked.
27
Olivia
I’d been on edge ever since we got onto the plane. I buckled myself into my seat, and Brett sat right next to me, keeping his face forward. The mile-high club. I knew exactly what that was. My heart pounded in my chest, but for a completely different reason. I gripped the arms of the leather chair I sat in. The inside of his plane was luxurious, with buttery leather seats, a wide cabin, outlets and plug-ins for electronics, tables with comfortable bucket seats for when someone wanted to eat. And behind me was a massive wet bar stocked with all the alcohol I could ever imagine.
But I wasn’t focused on any of those things. Not the view from the plane window as we taxied on the tarmac. Not the plush carpet underneath my feet as my head pressed into the seat. Not the roaring of the engines or the way my body seemed to become one with the leather I sat in as the plane slowly lifted off the ground.
Oh, no. My mind was focused on Brett’s hand creeping up the inside of my thigh.
“Relax,” he said.
His eyes never once turned to me as I looked over at him.
“Just relax,” he whispered.
I looked around to see if anyone was watching us. The bartender at the back was busy cleaning glasses, and the flight attendant was buckled into her chair at the front. I ignored the ebbing and flowing of the plane in the air. I ignored the clogging of my ears. I looked down, watching as Brett’s hand disappeared beneath the dress I’d worn for the flight. I’d had to change my outfit before he came to pick me up so I wouldn’t smell like vomit.
Or cake.
And oh, what a great decision I had made.
“Brett,” I breathed.
“Sh-sh-sh-sh. You’re going to have to be quiet, beautiful,” he said.
“We’re going to get caught.”
I looked over and watched a grin spread across his cheeks just as his fingers slipped beneath my panties.
“If you’re not quiet, we will,” he said.
He dipped his fingers into my entrance, slowly slicking himself with my arousal. He slid them up my slit, causing my leg to jump. I gripped the edges of the seat and wiggled around, feeling him stop his movements until I got comfortable. Then, I felt him slide all the way up to my clit.
“Holy sh—”
“Quiet, Miss Masters.”
I rolled my eyes into the back of my head. I felt his fingers swirling around my aching clit. I didn’t know how it felt better than it usually did, but it did. It felt more sensitive. More responsive to his touch. I bit down onto my lip and slid down into my seat. I propped my leg over his lap, opening myself up for him. He chuckled as his fingers moved back down, his body completely still save for his arm. The lights in the cabin dimmed as we leveled out into the air, and I closed my eyes as he slid his fingers back into me again.
“I thought you handled the takeoff very well,” he said coyly.
“Sh-sh-sh-ut—”
I pressed my head into the back of the seat. He leaned back easily into the chair, not paying anyone around us any mind. As if nothing was going on. I wanted him to stop before we got caught. But being able to peer through the cracks of the chairs in the plane and see the stewardess rushed fire through my veins. I bucked against his hand. I felt his fingers fill me up before his thumb pressed into my clit. He cocked his hip, crossing his leg over his knee before resituating my leg on his lap. His hand had full access to me, and I didn’t try to stop him. I clenched up, trying my best to keep my sounds to myself.
“Oh, you should see yourself right now,” Brett whispered.
This man drove me crazy in all the ways I wanted. In all the ways I’d lusted after for years. His thumb pressed into my swollen nub as he slipped a second finger into my throbbing pussy. I slapped my hand over my face. I forced myself to swallow down my sounds as my toes curled. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and my hips bucked. I knew for sure someone could hear me, or the wet sounds our skin made against one another as he fingered me on that plane.
“Do it,” Brett whispered.
And that was all it took.