The Ending I Want(6)

Fuck.

Why the hell did I put that on my list?

Because I wasn’t expecting someone else to read it.

Mortification fills every part of me, and my face starts to burn.

Fighting against my discomfort, I fold my arms over my chest and lift my chin. “So what if I haven’t had oral sex? It’s not like it’s the law, you know.”

“Well, it f*cking should be. I just…” He scratches his head. “How in the hell has someone who looks like you not had a guy go down on her before? I’d think men would be queuing up, begging to do it.”

“Clearly, they haven’t been,” I mutter, turning my eyes away.

“Well, we need to rectify this immediately,” he says, determination in his voice, yanking my eyes straight back to his.

“What?” I squeak.

“I’m going to make you come with my mouth, and tongue.”

Holy Mary, Mother of God!

“I’m not going in the airplane restroom with you.” My voice is still squeaky, and that burn of embarrassment has turned into a total hot flush.

A deep rumble of a laugh escapes Liam. “Trust me, gorgeous, there would be nothing more uncomfortable than me trying to go down on you in an airplane bathroom. The first time you have oral sex, it should be f*cking stupendous, something you’ll never forget. So, the moment we land, you and I are going straight to my place, and I’m going to strip you naked and give you the pleasure of my tongue. For hours.”

Hours?

My insides wobble. But my voice is clear. “I don’t think so.”

What?

“Why not?” He frowns.

Yeah, Taylor, why not?

“Because I don’t want a pity f*ck.”

He shifts in his seat, facing me. “One, not f*cking you would be the pity. And, two, I never said I was going to f*ck you. I said I was going to give you oral sex.”

“Well, I don’t want pity oral sex then.”

“Believe me, there’ll be nothing pitiful about it. Just mind-blowing f*cking pleasure.”

A hot rush of heat hits me straight between my legs. I squeeze my thighs together.

He notices and grins.

I put my hands on my lap, covering my lady parts. “I’m not going to your place with you,” I tell him. “I don’t know you. You’re a stranger. You might be a serial killer.”

“I might be. But isn’t f*cking a stranger on your list?”

He’s got me there. “It is, but you’re not exactly selling me with the serial-killer shit.”

“I’m not a serial killer, I promise.”

“Said the serial killer before he slit my throat open.”

He throws his head back, laughing loudly.

A smile pushes onto my lips. His laugh is incredibly contagious.

Why am I so bothered if he is a serial killer? So I die a little early. At least I’d get to experience cunnilingus before I do.

I’m kidding. Sort of.

“Where do you live?” I ask him.

He stops laughing and cocks a brow. “Chelsea. It’s in London.”

Chelsea…nice area.

I ponder his offer for a moment. Can I really do this?

Well, you don’t exactly have much time left to live, and it’s not like you have a line of men offering to do this.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” he repeats. He sounds a little surprised, which is odd, considering this guy’s high level of confidence.

“I’ll go back to your place with you, so we can…well, you can”—I gesture a hand to his face and then my crotch—“do that.”

Seriously, what is wrong with me?

A hot smile spreads across his gorgeous mouth. “Glad to hear it.”

He hands me back my list.

Taking it, I fold it up and put it along with my pen back in my bag.

Oh my God. I can’t believe I just agreed to go and have sex with him—well, not sex. Oral sex.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll totally end up having sex with him.

If he’s putting out, I’ll be taking.

When you have as little time as I do, pondering on the rights and wrongs of sexual etiquette clearly go out the window.

I’m not exactly sure of what to do now. I’m just all kinds of excited and nervous about what’s going to happen when we land.

God, six hours of sitting next to him, knowing what he’s going to do to me soon…I don’t know how I’m going to talk to him or look at his mouth without imagining where it will be in those six hours.

On me—that’s where his sexy-as-sin mouth will be.

I have to hold in a squeal of excitement.

Picking up the Hunter Airways brochure, which is still in my lap, I cross my legs and open it up just for the sake of having something to do.

And the first thing I see is Liam.

Literally.

There’s a photo of him in the magazine.

“Hey, there’s a photo of you…” The words die on my tongue when I actually take in the foreword.

Holy shit.

“You’re Liam Hunter?” My own voice is like a dull thud in my head. “As in, the owner of Hunter Airways? And a bazillion other companies.”

I’m staring at him. He’s staring at me.