Husband Stay (Husband #2) (12 page)

I looked up in
shock to find a familiar body settling into the seat beside me, his jeans
stretched so firmly over his thighs that my peace of mind evaporated into a
fluttering sensation that battered inside my chest like moths trying to escape.

My awkward plaster
cast fell to my side as I sucked in a calming breath and turned in my seat to
level a glare at him. “I suppose this,” I pointed at my seat, “…was your idea.
More stalking?” He wriggled around to put his seatbelt on, and with elbows out,
was so big I felt claustrophobic as he ate up the space beside me, crowding me
against the window.

When he stopped, I
could feel his thigh against mine and that was way too intimate for my liking,
as was his warm breath brushing my face when he leant toward me. “You flew into
Coffs. I figured you’d be flying out the same way. So I told the airline clerk
you were my fiancé and I wanted to give you a treat.”

Fiancé?
A
strange skittering sensation ran over my skin at the very idea, but it was soon
overwhelmed by the scent of his aftershave as he leant even closer to tuck a
stray curl behind my ear.

I edged away
primly. “I thought there were privacy laws.”

“There are. But he
must have thought, seeing as I knew your name and address and flight, that I
was legit.” He was smiling at his own cleverness but that only made me crankier.
Was he going to turn up everywhere I went?

“You are clearly underhanded,”
I told him in my best no-nonsense voice, intending to turn away and stare out
the window for the duration of the forty-minute flight. How had I entertained
the idea that I might see him again for uninhibited sex? Was I crazy? I’d never
get rid of him. “And don’t think this violation of my privacy—”

“That’s not all
I’m planning to violate…” he said, so quietly that I was the only one who heard
him. Then he smiled an incredibly sexy smile, gazing at me from the corner of
his eyes, “…Angel baby,” he finished. “Just so you know.”

I so badly wanted
to rail at him, but instead I was suddenly breathless, staring back into his
eyes with my body responding in completely inappropriate ways. I could feel
tiny clutching sensations between my legs, against the thick denim of my jeans,
and I wanted to squirm, but somehow I held that in.

He glanced down at
my sweater. “Nipples up?” he inquired softly.

The hostess
arrived to check that we had our seatbelts on properly, so I had a few seconds
to regroup. But she wanted my handbag to put in the overhead locker, because
there wasn’t a seat in front of us for me to stow it under. I was forced to
scrabble through it, looking for tissues and a water bottle and anything else I
might need on the flight. When my handbag was stowed, I was left clutching my
supplies against my cast, along with an inflight magazine I hadn’t wanted.

I looked at him
out of the corner of my eyes. “
My
seat allocation would have had a pocket
in front where I could store these things.”

I could see he was
trying not to smile. “But there’s so much leg room here.” He was all stretched
out—every delicious inch of him—enjoying the spaciousness he’d purchased. But
at five foot, six, it was overkill for me.

“So everything has
to be about what suits you?” I snapped, telling myself to be calm, and
completely failing.

He leant back and
turned his head to face me, lowering his voice again. “My memory of last night
included at least three things that suited—”

“
Shhh
.” I
was seriously frowning now. I couldn’t believe he was going to talk dirty to me
on a plane where other people could overhear. My heart was racing, but I had to
admit it wasn’t all embarrassment. Where our thighs rubbed together, I could
feel his warmth and it was really turning me on.

Then he lowered
his voice even further and said, “Three to one, Angel baby,” staring me
straight in the eye. “Think about that.”

I swallowed
tightly, not daring to trust my voice. But on the inside I was saying
Don’t
worry, I’ve been thinking about it a LOT.

“So…” he drawled. “Wake
me up if you’re interested in fooling around.” Then the infuriating great lump
closed his eyes and settled himself into the seat as if he planned to sleep
through the whole flight.

I stared at him,
struggling to calm down my breathing, but he was so damned close, even closer
than when we’d been sprawled out together in the bed. His right arm and right
thigh were pressed hard up against mine, and I could
feel
muscles under
that white cotton shirt, could see biceps below his short sleeves. And the way
he smelt…

I wanted to buy a
bottle of that aftershave so I could wear it myself, it excited me so much.
Although I doubted it would smell as hot on me. The woodsy scent was faint, and
mingled with oceanic notes and the smell of his hair.
Look out the window.
Don’t look at him. You’re making it worse.

But
it
was
bad already.

I could feel my
nipples pressing against the thin silk of my bra. They were definitely up. And
being so close to all that hot, hard masculinity was literally scrambling my
brains. I couldn’t think past wanting to feel his mouth on mine and those long
blunt fingers on my body.

Which was
so
inappropriate
in a public place.

Somehow I managed
to drag my gaze down and looked blindly at the water bottle on my lap. The
hostess was giving her obligatory safety talk, holding up oxygen masks, and I
wished then that one would fall in front of me, I was so light-headed.

But beating myself
up about that wasn’t helping my overheated brain. I’d had three orgasms in one
night with this man. He’d changed me completely, so it was perfectly understandable
that having him beside me, seemingly available, was going to throw me.

I wasn’t demented
or degenerate.
Or a Super Slut.
This was normal.

Well, maybe not
normal
,
but a natural consequence of the pleasure he’d given me. My body was simply
eager for more, and it seemed to be responding on autopilot. Still, if I could
slow my breathing and keep my hands on my lap, I was sure all would be well.

Or it would have
been if he hadn’t opened one eye and said, “Sex in the toilets is out of the
question, by the way. I take up too much room.” Then he closed his eyes again
and went back to pretending to sleep.

Which was very
clever.

He’d known that
would fire my imagination. Not that I’d ever do it, but the very clear visual
of him… Go on, say it, Angela,
banging me against the door
, was now
vividly playing out in my mind. In the fantasy we were both naked with my legs
wrapped around him, and my breasts were jiggling as he pounded into me, making
the door vibrate with each thrust. I would be crazy with lust, kissing him like
a wild woman, and—

“Your cheeks are
red.” His eyes were open again. “Are you thinking about me? And you? In the
toilets?”

I sucked in an
unsteady breath. “You have a dirty mind.”

I was such a liar.
With trembling fingers, I unscrewed my water bottle and took a sip, buying
time, trying to calm down. But I could feel the heat, not only in my face, but
all over my body. If we’d been in his house instead of a plane having this
conversation, I’d be naked by now. I just knew it.

“Were you going to
ring me?” he asked, and raised an eyebrow. “Or were you planning to forget the
best sex of your life and write it off as a mistake?”

I couldn’t
remember in that moment what I’d planned to do, but hearing him say
the best
sex of your life,
infuriated me. It didn’t matter that it was true, it made
me sound like a pathetic specimen who’d so fortunately benefited from his benevolent
pity-sex. And to hell with that.

Instead I snapped,
“Listen to you.” And added a sarcastic eyebrow. “Is your self-esteem so low that
you have to chase after me for compliments?”

It was a terrible
thing to say, and I didn’t recognize myself inside this woman who was giving as
good as she got, but Jack stirred something inside me that needed to come out. Or
perhaps it was the knowledge that he wasn’t so easily offended, as he proved,
by smirking at me and closing his eyes again. “I don’t need to hear words. All
that moaning last night was compliment enough.”

My right eye
twitched as I tried to come up with a suitable retort and failed. At that point
I decided the only way I would get through the flight would be to ignore him, so
I leant back in the seat and shut my eyes, deliberately slowing my breaths.

The plane taxied
and took off, and I had to swallow a few times to ensure my ears popped
properly, but apart from that I gave a good impression of being asleep. And in
fact, I must have been sleepy because I did actually doze off, despite my
over-active hormones.

When I woke half
an hour later, my hands were empty and my head was snuggled onto Jack’s
shoulder, which wasn’t smart. I pulled back abruptly, staring at him in
apprehension, not quite able to work out the consequences of my accidental
invasion of his space.

“You’re
dribbling,” he said, and wiped a thumb across the side of my mouth, the
slightly rough texture of his skin reminding me of all the other places he’d
touched me the night before.

“Am not.”

He smiled and lowered
his voice to an intimate rumble. “You’re right. I’m teasing.”

We kept staring at
each other until, completely against my will, I felt tension sliding out of me,
as if he was hypnotizing me into releasing my defenses. I knew I shouldn’t. His
friendliness might be some new method of seduction. Only, it didn’t feel like
that. As he tilted his head on the seat to gaze at me, I felt as if I’d woken
to a different Jack.

His hand was
resting near my collarbone where he negligently twirled a loose strand of hair.
Then he leant forward slowly, so slowly that I didn’t spook, and he kissed my
nose. “You really are an angel when you’re sleeping, when you’re not telling me
off.”

His mouth quirked
as his gaze drifted from my eyes to my lips. “I watched you last night, you
know, thinking how lucky I was—this beautiful girl who can melt hearts with her
voice, lying in my arms.” He nodded to himself, and in that moment I couldn’t
breathe. His words were like a spell I was frightened of breaking.

Then his gaze rose
back to my eyes. “It felt good, knowing I’d given you something you hadn’t been
able to get…anywhere else.” He watched me a moment longer, then he frowned.
“Unless you were lying.”

I shook my head. His
sudden humility was unnerving, so I didn’t have it in me to be obtuse. “I’ve
only had two lovers. In my life,” I clarified. “You were the one who…satisfied
me.”

He let out a long,
slow breath and nodded to himself. “Not every man gets to hear that,” he said
softly, then he slid a finger across my collarbone to stroke my neck, up behind
my ear where it was incredibly sensitive. For some reason that felt as if his
whole hand was sliding down my body, and I could feel my face flushing with
arousal again.

“And yet…” His
expression grew wry. “You don’t seem eager for more…satisfaction.”

I gazed back at
him, wondering why I wasn’t. When he put it in such simple terms, and
especially when he wasn’t acting like an arrogant braggart, it seemed silly to
walk away from such a powerful attraction, especially when I’d never
experienced anything like it before.

What if it never
happened again? Maybe I shouldn’t rule it out.

“Can I think about
it?” I asked softly.

“Can you talk
yourself out of it? Of course you can.” He smiled to soften the sarcasm. “But
I’d much rather pin you down to a date.”

“A date?” Apprehension
prickled over my shoulders and the spell evaporated like soap bubbles in the
sun. “Haven’t we moved past that point?”

He shrugged, all
dimples and melting-eyes charm, but suddenly I wasn’t buying it. “It’s never
too late for romance,” he said.

And I pulled back
against the window, alarm bells ringing loudly. This wasn’t a new Jack. This
was the old Jack, knocking on a different door. “You said you wanted ‘an arrangement’.”

He shrugged. “You
didn’t. I’m moving on.”

“To dating? To
romance?” I narrowed my eyes and decided to test him, “That usually leads to a
relationship.”

“If we’re lucky.” His
hand slid across the seat to close over my nerveless fingers, stroking them
almost absently as he gazed at me. But there was something about his patient
expression that didn’t ring true.

And even if he was
being honest, a relationship? The only reason I’d get into a relationship would
be to have babies, and Jack had far too much sexy swagger to be a decent father,
despite this sudden foray into charm. No, I had to stop this in its tracks.

So I shook my
head. “I don’t want romance,” I lied, “And my life is about more than sexual
gratification.”

He raised an
eyebrow, still calm, still patient, still with the
trust me
half-smile
that was starting to grate on me. “Such as?”

“Singing,” I said
succinctly. “Thanks to my performance last night, I’ll soon have an agent.” Spoken
as if I’d already decided on that.

He nodded slowly,
as if he was buying time, regrouping. “So you’re going to concentrate on your
career now?”

“That’s right.”

His hand slid off
my fingers and onto my upper thigh, stroking perilously close to the hot—and
undoubtedly damp—throbbing flesh that was aching for me to
shut up and get
laid.

“I’m sorry to hear
that,” he said, then before I could prepare myself, he leant forward and kissed
me, as smoothly and confidently as if I’d invited him, his lips sliding across
mine as he breathed into my mouth and then his tongue followed, setting every
nerve ending in my already tensed body alight.