Copyright © Nicole Austin, 2016
I pushed hard, grunting as I used all my strength to cram my overstuffed bag into the bin, but it stubbornly refused to succumb to my will. Glancing toward the front of the plane, I saw the scowling flight attendant headed my way.
“Dammit, get in there.” No way was I paying to check my stuff so the airline could lose it. We all know how that goes. So not happening.
A warm body moved in behind me and two large, tanned hands appeared next to mine on the red fabric. Soft lips brushed my ear, deep whiskey-rough voice instructing, “Harder, sweetness.”
Fuck me. The guy bracketing my body from behind smelled like hot wild sex—a combination of spicy cologne and musky male. I hissed in a breath through my teeth when his hard angles met my soft curves, his pelvis fitting perfectly against my ass as he slammed forward and we crammed my bag into the small space. My entire body heated and melted into him, making it difficult to move away.
I sighed heavily as I forced my feet into motion and ducked into the row, claiming the window seat. Turning toward the aisle, I flashed a grateful smile at my hero, intending to utter a quick thank you. The words died on my lips as my eyes landed on the most gorgeous bad boy ever.
Instant girl boner.
Tall, dark and muscular with an unmistakable edge of danger. The exact kind of guy my mom warned me to steer clear of, which of course made him unbelievably attractive. He oozed sex appeal from his just-fucked artfully mussed black hair to smoldering blue-gray eyes and the cocky grin on those sensual lips. Then there was his body—lean and muscular, powerful and athletic, pussy clenching hotness. Sinful as fuck.
A Nine Inch Nails concert shirt molded to his sculpted torso, covered by an open button-down that matched his eyes, cuffs rolled up to bare his forearms, just a hint of ink peeking out beneath the material. The faded straight-leg jeans he wore weren’t too tight or too loose, fitting him just right.
“Sir,” the flight attendant called out and he turned to face her, giving me a great view of his fine ass lovingly encased in soft denim.
The older woman licked her lips and blatantly let her gaze wander over him. She placed a hand on his biceps, fingers stroking, feeling him up right there in the aisle as boarding passengers scooted around them.
“Is there anything you need?” she purred.
Strong emphasis on anything. Damn, she looked thirsty. Her tone and flirtatious demeanor made it clear she’d fuck him in a heartbeat. I’m sure the majority of the women on the plane would.
Bad Boy’s gaze took a long stroll over her plastic body by Mattel before he leaned in close and whispered something that had the woman all but drooling on him. She let that wandering hand stray to his pecs and gave him a saucy wink before reluctantly turning to assist an elderly woman.
Irritated and irrationally jealous, I called out, “Bye, Felicia.”
Bad Boy flashed a smirk my way and shrugged, his self-assured, arrogant attitude silently declaring, They all want me; what’s a hot guy to do?