Page 34 of Finally Forever
“I need you to take a seat and fasten your little seatbelt until the pilots says we’re clear of the turbulence.”
She didn’t say, passengers. She said, you. As in me. Not Xavier. Not Sebastian. Me. I raise the bottle and down another shot, my head rattling against the wall behind me as the plane continues to vibrate.
“Ma’am!” She stares me down.
A rush of heat spreads throughout my body, and suddenly, I don’t care about anything anymore.
“I need you to take your seat,” she shouts into the phone, her voice a screech through the intercom.
I smile and give her the finger before downing another shot.
Xavier hisses something and walks toward me again.
Oh shit. Panicking, I shove the bottle into the small sink and turn the knob to Sebastian’s bedroom, praying it’s not locked. The door opens and I fall rather than step inside. The movement combined with the turbulence makes me feel like I’m dancing the Irish jig. I laugh and slam the door closed, locking the bolt.
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sebastian barks from where he lies on the bed.
Giggling, I press my finger to my lips and shush him just as I fall against the wall.
Xavier knocks on the door. “Sebastian? I’m sorry. If you open the door, I’ll take her.”
“Take her?” I stumble away from the wall and snort, anger adding more heat to the vodka in my veins. “Did you order him to keep me away from you?”
Knocking sounds on the door again. “Sebastian?” Xavier says.
I pin Sebastian with my meanest glare but ruin the mood by cracking up when turbulence bounces me into the air.
“Holy shit.” I throw out my arms, flailing for something to latch onto.
Sebastian springs from the bed and catches me.
Of course, he does. He’s like Superman with those reflexes—or is that Spider-Man?
His fingers dig into my sides, hitting me in that sensitive spot.
I crack up with laughter and squirm to get free. “Stop,” I squeal. “I’m going to pee.”
He drops me at once.
I land on the bed with a bounce. “This flight is more fun than I thought it’d be.” I hiccup and flop onto my back, fanning my hair off my hot neck. “Can you turn on the fan, please?”
“There is no fan,” Sebastian grumbles, his back to me as he opens the door and slips outside.
I sigh, my gaze on his ass before he disappears. Why does it have to be so perfect? And why does it have to be so hot? I tug my shirt over my head and struggle to get it off. My hair catches on either my bracelet or my watch. Bracelet, I determine; I always wear my watch on my left wrist. Each time I pull, my hair feels like it’s ripping from my head.
“Help! I need help!” I shout like a baby, or a drunk.
Voices sound from the other side of the door.
I hear Sebastian say, “I got it.” The door clicks open and then closes. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Stripping?”
“Ding, ding, ding. You get the prize.”
The bed dips to my right. “What’s the prize?”
