“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
“Although, I think it went like . . . oh Ellllllllllllll.” He moans as he simulates me having sex. “Fuck me harder, Ell, oh God yeah . . . just like that.” His eyes roll back in his head and I whip him with my cardigan.
“Shut. Up,” I whisper as I try to hold my smile. “You can talk, you moan like a fucking cow.”
He laughs out loud and pulls my head to him and kisses me. “It’s actually a prize-winning bull, get it right, Landon.” I smile against his lips and our kiss turns deeper, and then I remember the pressing point and I pull out of his grip. “Stop kissing your way out of the shit.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He leans back again. “Although, for the record, I won that argument.”
My mouth falls open. “You did not.”
“Here you are, two glasses of champagne.” The stewardess passes them over to us; we both jerk back from each other guiltily. She puts down a tray of chocolate-coated strawberries on the table in front of us.
“Thank you.” We both smile.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
“Not at this stage. Maybe a top-up after we take off,” Elliot replies as he takes my hand in my lap.
The stewardess smiles and goes back to her little room at the front.
Elliot holds his champagne in the air.
“What are we toasting?” I smile.
“The Canary Islands.”
My eyes widen. “We’re going to the Canary Islands?”
He smiles as he sips his champagne.
“Where to?” I whisper in awe as I sip my drink.
“There’s a sex club down there,” he replies casually.
I frown . . . what? Oh, hell on a cracker . . . I didn’t think this through.
“Go on,” I mutter dryly.
“Masked men tie you up and you get to watch me have sex with copious other hot women.”
I choke on my drink and cough out loud. “What?”
He slaps me on the back. “But don’t worry, if you behave, I’ll let you clean me up when I’m finished with them.”
“Are you serious?” I laugh. Thank God he’s joking. “And how will I clean you up?”
“With your tongue, of course.” He sips his drink with a mischievous smile.
I lean closer to him. “But what you failed to read on the brochure, dear Ell, was that while you were having boring sex with mediocre women”-I sip my champagne-“I’m getting tag-teamed by the huge masked men, who, I may add, are allowed to”-I pause as I think of the right wording-“do their business inside of me . . . and it is you who gets to clean up their mess . . . with your tongue.” I smile and clink my glass to his.
He winces as if getting a vivid visual and then his lip curls in disgust.
The plane begins to hurtle down the runway and I grip the armrests and close my eyes.
“You’re a dirty girl, Landon,” he whispers as the plane lifts off the ground.
“I try my best,” I reply as I hang on for dear life.
“How come they get to come inside of you and I don’t?”
“Because they’re a fantasy,” I whisper with my eyes closed. “And you’re a real-life player who has probably had sex with ten million women.”
“It’s nine and a half million, don’t get carried away.”
I laugh out loud and so does he. Our eyes hold each other’s and he picks up my hand and kisses it with an unsaid affection. It’s not forced and it doesn’t feel wrong.
Elliot Miles is fun.
I like this game we’re playing . . . although I have no idea what it’s called or whether it has any rules.
All I know is that the playing field is in the Canary Islands and I’m going to have a good week. Probably the best.
I smile as I look out of the window, but sadly, I get the feeling Elliot is going to give me the hangover of all hangovers.
The high will be worth the fallout . . . I think.
“Would you like a top-up, sir?” the stewardess asks. I never did get her name. Although I must admit, with every glass of champagne her pining eyes over Elliot get a little more annoying.
He’s taken, bitch.
Okay, he’s not taken. But he is today and . . . for the next week, so back off already.
“No thank you, Clarise. We are going to retire,” he replies casually.
“Oh.” She nods as if taken aback. “Yes, of course.” She turns. “Call me if I can be of any service.” She walks into her room and closes the door behind her.
“I will.” His eyes return to me as amusement flashes across his face.
“Not funny,” I reply, deadpan. She will never be of any service; how dare he even joke about that.
He stands and holds his hand out for me.
I frown. “What are you doing?”
“Retiring.”
“From what?”
“Here.” He drags me to my feet and pulls me to the back of the plane, and opens the double door that reveals a luxurious bedroom with a huge bed.
A bed . . . a bed . . . what’s a fucking bed doing here?
My eyes meet his and he winks.
Horror dawns.
“No,” I whisper.
He pushes me in and closes the door behind us, and then he crash-tackles me onto the bed and crawls over me. He lifts his T-shirt off over his head and throws it to the side.
His playful smile arrests me and, for a moment, I forget where I am.
Then I remember.
“What are you doing?” I whisper in a panic as I try to escape. “Stop it, get off me,” I snap. “They’re just out there.”
His lips drop to my neck and I feel his erection as it hardens up against my stomach.
“Are you fucking crazy?” I whisper. “Elliot.” I buck to try and get him off me. “You are a bona fide sex maniac,” I stammer.
He smiles sexily and stands and tears his jeans off. He throws them and they hit the back of the door; the button makes a clanging sound and I slap my hands over my eyes. “Oh. My. God . . . What the actual fuck are you doing?” I whisper.
“Giving you a membership.” He smiles as he undoes my jeans and wrestles to pull them down.
“To what?”
“The Miles High Club.” He pulls my jeans completely off.
I laugh out loud and then slap my hand over my mouth. I hold my finger to my mouth in a sshh signal.
“You’re the one making all the noise.” He pulls my shirt off over my head, twirls it around over his head like a lasso, and bucks the bed as if riding a fake bull.
I burst out laughing as I bounce beneath him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Getting ready to moan like a bull.” He smiles as he drops and kisses me and pulls my panties off. He inhales them deeply and then hurls them at the wall. They hit the back of the door and fall on the floor, and his lips find mine again.
I imagine the snooty stewardess walking in and finding us in a compromising position. “Elliot.” My eyes widen in horror. “We can’t have sex, they’re just out there,” I whisper in a panic. “They can hear us, and you’re fucking loud, you know?”