Flights of Fantasy Read online

  Rumbling approval, he pulled the little bud between his lips and sucked. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as pleasure hit her hard, fizzing through her system like champagne.

  He licked and sucked, toying with her clit, alternating between suckling her until she thought she’d die from pleasure, then using long, slow licks from slit to clit. Then, when she thought he couldn’t tease her any more, he moved and stabbed his tongue deep into her pussy.

  Her hips came off the bed as he fucked her with his tongue. She whimpered, a small step from begging, but unable to stop herself. What he was doing, the pleasure coursing through her body, was amazing…but she needed more. Far more. She needed filling, needed his cock inside her.

  He moaned again, pulling his tongue from her and sliding it back up to her clit in a long, hot sweep. She pouted, disappointment filling her. She didn’t have to wait long. Within a heartbeat, his long fingers pressed against her, two of them pushing into her hot, slick cunt.

  She groaned, clenching around his fingers as she rode his tongue. The heat and tightness in her body had settled, centering in her pussy. Each thrust and lick wound the tension higher, like a spring. She mangled her lip again, trying to hold her moans inside. Her release loomed, the pleasure-filled abyss opening before her. Any moment now, just one more lick or stroke, and she’d fall headlong into it…

  A sudden rap on the door made her jump. A voice issued from the other side. “Ma’am, are you okay in there?”

  She froze. The fantasy disappeared like a bursting bubble, leaving her hot and bothered. She snatched her hand from between her legs. Oh my God. She was sitting on the plane toilet dry-humping her own damn fingers. What the fuck was wrong with her?

  “Ma’am? Can you hear me?” The attendant’s voice was pleasantly calm, but even so, a note of “there’s something wrong here” was beginning to creep in. The handle jiggled as it was tried from the other side.

  “Tony, can you give me hand, please?” The voice was muffled, but was undoubtedly the same woman calling for assistance. Kyla sat up straight, then stood up quickly. Crap, the last thing she needed was for them to break the door down. Just one look at her would inform anyone what she’d been up to.

  Desperate, she grabbed some toweling and scrubbed at her face. Her voice was high-pitched and strangled as she answered, “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Thank you!”

  “Very well. Just so you’re aware, we’ll be landing shortly. So we need you to retake your seat.”

  Throwing the used paper towels into the trash, she opened the door and smiled at the attendant before scurrying back up the aisle. Alex was still lying down, one long leg thrust into the aisle. He must be tired to have gone back to sleep after the attendants made him put his seat upright for landing.

  She slowed as she approached, heat and awareness thrumming through her. She was going to have to climb over him again, but this time his legs were spread wide, the pose of the relaxed, but virile male. His head was rolled to the side, away from her, so she couldn’t see his face. The slight rumbling snore said he was fast asleep.

  Beyond him was the safety of her seat, her book closed and facedown on it. She frowned. She’d left it open at her page, hadn’t she? Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and concentrated on Alex again.

  Great, what a friggin’ mess. She bit her lip as she tried to work out the best way to get back in her seat. Perhaps if she stepped between his thighs, one foot, then the other, transferring her weight? Yeah, that could work.

  Gathering her courage, she lifted her foot. He moved his legs. Swearing under her breath, she pulled back and reassessed her strategy. His legs were closer together now, not enough room for her to get a foot between them. She’d have to step over both at the same time and just hope she kept her balance. One wrong move would tumble her right into his lap.

  Biting her lip, she tried to remind herself why that was a bad thing and lifted her leg. Slowly, oh so slowly, she straddled him. Her support leg shook as she took her time putting her foot down. Relief flooded her as it touched down on the carpet the other side of his thighs. Why did men have to sprawl out when they slept anyway? It was so damn messy and inconsiderate. The irritation flushed away her embarrassment and Kyla went to lift her other leg. Just a little more and she could fall into her seat. Mission accomplished with speed, if not dignity.

  It wasn’t to be. As soon as she transferred her weight, Alex moved, half turning in his sleep. His heavily muscled thigh pushed into hers. Her balance, precarious to begin with, disappeared and, with a squeak, she tumbled forward.

  Right into Alex’s lap.

  Strong hands closed around her waist, catching and holding her against his broad chest. Blue-green eyes looked up into hers, filled with amusement and something else. Kyla wriggled, and her eyes widened. His chest wasn’t the only hard thing about him. With her legs neatly folded either side of his hips, her core was pressed right against his groin and the fully erect, thick cock there.

  A gasp of surprise escaped her lips and his eyes darkened another notch. “From a lady of mystery to a delightful wake-up call. I could get used to this.”

  The fates, bitches all of them, definitely had it in for her. Two hours later, she’d made it to her hotel, thankfully without incident or a further sighting of Alex. She’d chosen to sit alone in the bar, rather than alone in her room. This was the last time she traveled alone. At least a travel companion would have stopped her doing something as stupid as landing in Alex Richards’ lap.

  A glum expression on her face, Kyla played with her drink, stabbing at the ice cubes in the Rye and Dry with a cocktail stick. Normally her overactive imagination would have begun to weave a tale around the small blocks of ice, imagining little people on them. Whole civilizations living out their lives in a self-contained little world where their very survival depended on the way she swirled her drink.

  Okay, maybe she was a little weird. It made no difference. Tonight there were no little people, no grand epics spanning icy continents. Tonight all she could focus on was the fact she’d met the man she’d lusted over for years. Many times over the years she’d fantasized about what would happen if she did actually meet him.

  It would be at a premiere or swanky reception. She would be the epitome of charm and grace. He would, of course, fall instantly for her sparkling wit and intelligence…even in her fantasies, she had to be realistic. She was not model material.

  She’d met him and what had she done? Charmed him with her grace and witty repartee? God no. She’d clammed up, head-butted him and attacked him like some sort of crazed fangirl. Then, as if the first three weren’t enough, she’d grabbed her bags and fled without apologizing, even leaving one of her shoes caught in the seat in her haste.

  Luckily they’d already opened the doors so she could escape, hopping on one foot as she located a pair of sandals in her crowded carry-on. The shoe was a total loss. There was no way she could have gone back for it. Groaning, she stabbed the ice again. The ground could not create a hole deep enough to swallow her and her embarrassment.

  The bartender pushed a new drink in front of her.

  “I didn’t order another.”

  “The gentleman over there sent it over for you, with this.”

  A piece of folded blue paper appeared next to the full glass. Surprised, Kyla took it and sat up, looking around in the direction the bored-looking bartender indicated. Over on the other side of the hotel bar sat a small group of familiar-looking men. She caught her breath. It was like a Who’s Who of Hollywood male talent. Something that wasn’t lost on the other women in the bar.

  Most were preening and trying to attract attention from the group of actors. As Kyla watched, one slid a phone out of her purse and headed over, determination in every line of her body. The ring of bodyguards around them prevented her getting anywhere near. A quiet chat later and she was dispatched back to her table. The men in question were oblivious, too busy talking between themselves and drinking. Apart from
one. A very familiar figure sat in the middle, his attention squarely on Kyla.

  Alex.

  As she looked at him, his lips quirked and he lifted his glass in acknowledgment. She flipped the note open and read.

  Found, One slipper. Needed, One princess. Will you be my Cinderella? Room 405.

  He had invited her to his room.

  Kyla’s vision swam and she almost fell off the stool. His room. Oh my. Blinking to clear her vision, she read the note, then flipped it over to make sure there was nothing else written on it. Something like, “Gotcha! Not really. I’ve left your shoe at reception.”

  Nothing. The back of the note was blank.

  He had invited her to his room. Nerves and excitement attacked in the same moment, her body their battlefield. She had no illusions about what was going to happen when she got to his room. Men did not invite random women they’d just met to their rooms without a very specific goal in mind.

  Why her, though? Curiously, she looked around the room. There were younger and skinnier women in here, all eager for a chance with the hot young actor. Why pick her? Why the fuck are you arguing? Now that was definitely Rya’s voice screaming in her ear… Don’t analyze, just go for it!

  Obeying her inner woman—and Rya—she looked back over and caught his eye. Nodding, she downed the drink in one go and slid off her stool. Note and purse in hand, she sauntered out of the bar with a previously undiscovered elegance and calmness.

  Room 401…402…403…

  Kyla read the numbers on the doors as she walked down the corridor. She was on the upper floor and these were all luxury suites. She was in one of the smaller rooms a couple of floors below. It didn’t bother her. Because she’d been late booking and couldn’t get connecting flights, the publisher had arranged a stopover. Since it was late at night, she’d only intended to sleep in the room, so she didn’t much care about the size. His room was a completely different matter. She hoped there would be a lot more going on than sleeping.

  Hubba-hubba.

  405.

  She was here. Standing in front of the door, she gave herself a quick once-over. She’d raced up to her room and showered after leaving the bar. Luckily, she’d had her legs waxed and had done some other preening before the trip, so all she had to do was fix her hair and makeup. Minimal makeup, little more than a sweep of eyeliner and mascara and a dab of lip gloss. Robert hadn’t liked her to wear any at all. More, she suspected, so other men didn’t notice her rather than for his own preferences. He’d sure liked her to slap it on when they were dating.

  Grimly, she shook herself out of her memories and stepped back to check her reflection in the mirror at the end of the hall. White button-down shirt, jeans and leather sandals. Her dark hair was loose and curled around her neck. Casual chic. She’d debated over the little black dress she’d packed, just in case, but decided it was too over the top. Knowing her luck, she’d roll up dolled up to the nines and he’d just give her the shoe back. Dressed casually, but with sexy lingerie underneath, she was prepared for anything.

  Her lips curled into a smirk. She should’ve been a Boy Scout.

  She lifted her hand to knock but the door opened before her knuckles could connect. Alex stood in front of her. Black dress shirt loose and unbuttoned all the way, he leaned in the doorway with his arms above his head. Kyla opened her mouth, then shut it again, unable to take her eyes off his toned chest and abdomen.

  “Hey, princess, my eyes are up here.”

  Kyla closed her eyes for a second as heat flared in her cheeks again. She’d never had a problem with blushing before, but the way she was going, Alex would think her complexion was permanently pink.

  “Isn’t that supposed to be the woman’s line?”

  From somewhere, she managed to claw back enough sanity to frame a reply. Instantly she felt better. This was an area she could compete in. Witty banter didn’t rely on looks, grace or a figure like a stick insect. His gaze dropped to her ample bust, highlighted rather than concealed by the white shirt, and the green-blue of his eyes darkened to the color of a storm-driven ocean. Just for a second, then he visibly pulled himself together and smiled.

  “I’m more than happy for you to have it back. I’m glad you came.”

  He pushed off the door and stood aside to motion her into the room. Hardly able to believe this was happening, she took a deep breath and walked past him.

  “Me too. I really like those shoes.”

  Her footsteps faltered a few steps in and she forgot all about witty comments. Screw luxury, this was something else. Sumptuous furnishings, the latest in electronic gadgets and a view… She whistled between her teeth and headed over to the window. The city was lit up for the night and spread out on display below them.

  “Oh my, that’s beautiful.”

  “I agree.”

  His voice whispered by her ear, making Kyla jump. He’d moved so silently, she hadn’t heard him approach. His breath whispered along the sensitive skin at her throat. Suddenly the view was the last thing on her mind. All her attention had been hijacked by the man behind her.

  “I can see why you stay here, with this.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the view.”

  Chapter 3

  His hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against the solid planes of his chest. She murmured in…pleasure…anticipation? Whatever, she wasn’t sure and, right at the moment, really didn’t care. All that mattered was that he was touching her. That this hadn’t been a joke and she hadn’t made a total idiot of herself.

  “I’m so sorry about the plane.” She had to get that out before they started. Her gaze flicked to an open doorway and the bedroom beyond. The bed was huge. Plenty of room. Her cheeks went for the lobster look again.

  “I overbalanced and…”

  “Shhhh.” His tone was firm as he turned her around to face him. His eyes danced with amusement. “I have a confession to make.”

  She tilted her head. “Oh?”

  “I wasn’t asleep.”

  She gaped at him.

  “So you?” He’d been awake all the time as she tried to clamber over him. “And you?” Just let her do it. “Why? You could have moved.”

  “I did. And got a right nice lapful.”

  He grinned, unrepentant, heat flaring in his eyes.

  Realization hit her. He’d deliberately knocked her off balance so she’d end up in his lap. With her…pressed against his cock. His very erect cock. Had he been as hot for her as she had for him?

  “But…? I mean, why? I’m a little…older?”

  The maddeningly little smile played at the corners of his lips again, making the mole by his top lip dance as he leaned down. This was it, Alex Richards was finally going to kiss her. She didn’t know whether she was going to pass out from anticipation or free herself rush to find her laptop and crow to Rya. Neither, her body firmly decided as it melted against the hardness of his. She damn well deserved this kiss.

  “Because I think you’re beautiful. As soon as I saw you on the plane and you looked over that book. All stern and…” He shivered as his words trailed off.

  His hand across the back of her hips, he pulled her against his. The thick ridge of his cock pressed hard into her soft belly. Fire raced through her body as if electricity trying to go to ground through her. It didn’t get that far, the heat pooling in her groin as her cunt clenched hard around nothingness. She wanted to feel that cock inside her, every thick inch of it.

  “Age is just a number, princess. But if you want to play numbers, I have a favorite we can try later.”

  She could just guess what that was and couldn’t have framed a sensible response if her life depended on it. Her gaze latched on to his mouth with longing. Her fingers mangled his silk shirt as he bent his head. His lips, soft and warm, brushed hers. An exploratory caress as he traced along them.

  Pleasure assaulted her, spiraling out from her lips to fill every cell in her body. She’d expected him to be brash and ov
erconfident. She remembered dating in her twenties, but none of her boyfriends had shown half the finesse Alex did as he slid a hand onto the nape of her neck to tilt her head. A low, sensual rumble emanated from his chest. He crowded closer, wrapping himself around her as he swept his tongue along her lower lip.

  Silently she obeyed the command, opening up for him on a small whimper. She couldn’t do anything else. She still couldn’t believe this was happening, sure it was a dream. She’d never had such a vivid and detailed dream before. If it was a dream, she didn’t care. It damn well felt real enough to her. Just as long as she didn’t wake up before the crucial moment.

  He nibbled her lower lip, not plunging in to conquer right away. His large hand swept the curve of her back and onto her waist, but he didn’t grope or paw her. Instead, he treated her like a treasure, a delicate treat that was his and his alone. One he intended to savor. Just the thought of him savoring her made her pussy clench savagely as liquid heat slipped from her and dampened her panties.

  His hand left her waist, joining the other as he cupped her face. Only then did he claim her mouth fully, his tongue sliding past her lips to stroke along hers. He nibbled her lips, tantalizing and teasing her. Daring her to join him in the sensual duel.

  She responded instinctively, pressing against him with a whimper. Open to anything he wanted. She didn’t care. All that mattered was that he kept kissing her as if she was the only woman in the world.

  His kiss turned dominant. Crushing her lips under his, he took what he wanted, but gave so much pleasure in return. The kiss was never-ending and over too soon. He tore his mouth from hers to rest his forehead against hers, his breathing heavy and ragged.

  “I want you,” he whispered, pressing kisses against her temple and starting to work his way down her neck. “I can’t wait, princess. Don’t make me wait.”

  With a failed marriage behind her, Kyla was no innocent. A smile curved her lips as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. A sigh of pleasure crossed her lips as she ran her hands over his muscled shoulders. His skin was like satin over steel. Such a clichéd expression made her smile, but it was the only way to describe him.