Page 7 of Puck Me Secretly

I turned back to him. “Those aren’t feelings. Those are…”

“Are what?” His gaze was on my mouth, distracting me.

“Those are base instincts. Like hunger or fatigue. Those aren’t emotions.”

“You said nothing about emotions, you asked about my feelings.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“I feel like fucking,” he teased, and my stomach clenched hard at those words. I hated that he was turning me on.

“You're the perfect example of why I only date Baby Men.”

His face broke into a hot smile. “You only think you want those guys.”

“No,” I stopped him. “I want them. The more sensitive the better.”

A loud bang sounded. I turned to peer out the window. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Another considerable bang sounded, and the plane lurched to the left. I slid across my seat toward the window. Some passengers cried out, but the aircraft righted itself.

“Are you okay?”

My heart pounded in my chest. “Yes.”

We watched as a flight attendant half-walked, half-ran up the aisle.

“Is that normal?”

“It’s fine.” He spoke a moment before the plane lurched a second time. Hard.

The seat belt lights went on.

Ding. Ding.

Ding. Ding.

“Oh God,” I chanted between cold lips.

People around us chattered in an anxious tone.

A female voice spoke over the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen. Please fasten your seatbelts now. I repeat, fasten your seatbelts. Do not get out of your seats.”

I realized that my seatbelt was not on. Worse, I had only one half of my belt.

“My seatbelt,” I pawed frantically for the other half. “It’s gone. I need it. Where is it!”

A big hand dug under my ass and then he held up the other half of my belt. With shaking hands, I secured it around my waist.

“It’s turbulence.” Max craned his neck, watching over the seat ahead of him. He seemed alert, not scared.

The plane whined as it tipped forward, so much so that we braced ourselves against the seats in front of us. The faint scent of burning rubber wafted in the air.

A thought pierced through my panic. I needed my life vest. I reached beneath my seat, pulled up the plastic square and ripped it open. I struggled to unfold it and pull it over my head.

Max watched. “We’re not over water. You don’t need that.”

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