Page 17 of Hell In A Handbasket
“Uh…” I pull back and search his eyes. “Okay? Thanks for telling me.”
“You’realsogetting up and going to the bathroom.” He flashes a devious smile and slips his hand onto my lap, his walking fingers hidden beneath the open file. “I’ve never fucked on a commercial flight before.”
“Are you serious right now?” I firm my lips and study his smug expression. But do I push his hand away?No. I do not.“Archer, we’re working!”
“Minnnnnka.” His fingers inch nearer to my core. “We’re gonna be five miles off the ground. I’ve fucked at nine miles. I havenotfucked at five.”
“You’re being ridiculous!”
“And you’re being entirely too loud right now.” He captures my lips and grins, because he knows he’s already caught me. “I don’t intend to fly commercial very often, Chief. And it turns out my wife has become accustomed to a certain level of luxury, which means she’s not gonna fly commercial if she can help it either.”
“Archer…”
His pinkie finger has the power to take my breath away, his knuckles brushing my already pulsing clit.
“People will know what we’re doing.”
“People will wish they were doing the same.” He suckles on the tip of my tongue and beams when, right on cue, the seatbelt light dings, and passengers immediately start moving. “If I go in there and you don’t follow, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“Coercion.” Already, my hands tingle, and my mind insists I snap the file closed and place it in the back of the seat in front of me. But doing so would reveal Archer’s fingers, and shit, I’m not quite ready for them to stop yet. “We already banged today. That not enough for you?”
“It’s not the number of times I come, Chief Mayet. It’s the fact you have me hardall the fucking time. I’m getting up now.”
“Archer, wait?—”
“If we wait too long, some slob is gonna drop a giant turd and stink the cubicle out. I’m not willing to risk it.”
“Wait!” Giggling, I grab his arm. “Those cubicles are tiny. Wecannotfit in there together.”
“Bet.” He drags his hand from between my legs and unbuckles his belt, and when a man who already has sweat on his brow and a newspaper pinched between his fingers stands, Archer moves faster. He shoves past his brother, whose sexual proclivities, we’ve discovered today,do notextend toward a kink for backdoor entry, and then he stumbles into the aisle just two feet ahead of the newspaper guy.
He swings his eyes back to me, burning and direct, then he looks to the front again and marches himself to the closest bathroom.
Shit.
“Everyone knows what you’re doing.” Sneering, Cato sits off center, putting his weight on just one butt cheek and all of his bad mood into his tone. “I know what he just told you to do.”
“Shut up.” I unfasten my belt and hurriedly tuck Soph’s file into the seat pocket, then moving to my feet, I stumble toward the aisle and slap Cato’s hands away. “Don’t touch me,”when I’m horny.“It’s weird.”
“Sure, because I’m the only motherfucker today whose consent no longer matters.”
“I didn’t do that to you.” I hook my thumb toward the paralyzed Aubree, white knuckling her armrests. “She did. And she’s busy in her own version of hell right now, so you’re gonna have to sulk in silence for a few minutes.” I lift my legs and fight with his because he’s a future NBA star with way too much femur to be considered normal. “Move.”
“Sorry, ma’am.” He talks entirely too loudly, drawing eyes when eyes are clearly already pointed our way. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your dirty sexcapades. Do you need a condom? I have an ample supply.Allegedly.”
I press my hand to his face and hop into the aisle, slamming my knee to the armrest opposite and gritting my teeth as pain radiates up through the joint. “Dammit, Cato!” I smack his hands away and turn with my shoulders ridiculously high. My chin, too high. My spine, rod straight.
Because that’s not weird at all.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” I snarl. But then I stop and sneer. “Wait, my mistake. The TSA guy, whose name is probably Bubba, is a pain inyourass. Sucks to be you.” I whip my hair back, totally nonchalant, and start along the aisle. Not conspicuousat all. I approach the bathroom I’mpretty sureArcher stepped into, and knocking, I wait just a single Mississippi before the door swings open. His powerful hand whips out and latches on. He yanks me in, slamming the door and flipping the lock, and quicker than it takes for my eyes to adjust to the ugly blue light, he pins me to the wall, his lips nestled at the base of my neck and his hands cruising the length of my thighs.
“It issohard to get in the mood for this.” I tilt my head back and give him room to work. “Your brother just announced to the whole plane what we were doing in here. And even though literally no one else has used this toilet since it was cleaned, it still stinks.”
“Close your eyes, block your nose.” He crushes his lips against mine and squeezes my nostrils, banging his elbow to the mirror frame and sucking what little oxygen I have straight out of my lungs with his hiss. “Shit! Fuck, Mayet!”
“This isnotsexy.” Giggling, I slide my hands beneath his shirt, dragging my fingertips over his ridged abdomen and around to his hip, where he wouldnormallywear a gun. “It feels strange to be able to put my hand here.”
“Here, where?” Frantic, he bruises me all over, and yet, feels none of the guilt he used to feel when hemophilia was a new word in his world. “My hip?”
