Breathe Out (Just Breathe, #2)(128)
“I don’t date,” I mumble.
“That Chris guy, the actor, he’s cute,” Isabella pokes.
“Chris and I are just friends,” I announce.
“Everyone starts off as just friends,” Emily comments with a smile.
“What about Joe?” Charlotte offers.
All I can do is shake my head.
“You ladies still need to pick a dress,” Mrs. Covelli interjects. “And, we are scheduled to join the men for dinner soon.”
Emily, Charlotte and Isabella head to the changing rooms that are only about twenty feet away to try on the next selections as Mrs. Covelli offers a comforting smile. I bow my head slightly, showing my appreciation.
For dinner, we return to the Covelli home. All of the Covelli men are there waiting on us — we find them chatting in the living room near a roaring fire in a grand, marble fireplace. It doesn’t take long for Jimmy to confirm that the news have been splashing photos of me and my day out to the public. When they inquire if I’m staying, I graciously explain that I won’t be, claiming that I need to get back for a variety of business needs — I fail to mention that the idea of distancing myself with them sooner than later will squash the rumors of Joe and me dating.
That night, after getting ready for bed, Joe stops by my room to try and convince me to stay. I refuse and ask for the name and number of David’s and Daniel’s charter company, hoping to book one of their planes to take me and the team home. He insists on seeing me home and at first I don’t understand what he means. Eventually, I get it out of him that he plans on sending me back on their jet with him joining me. He claims that there’s business he needs to address in California, so he might as well travel back with me, then return before the holiday. I vehemently oppose the proposition, but Joe sways me with his confident authoritative tone — that, and the promise of inducting both of us into the Mile High Club.
The next day as I get out of the airplane restroom, I find Joe and Hunter talking. I wait a few minutes, but fall short of giving them enough space to talk, especially when Joe and I lock eyes and he gestures for me to sit down next to him on the couch. Just as they’re finishing their conversation, Joe gets a business call. I do my best to occupy myself, petting Sadie and checking my phone, but the smell of him becomes too distracting.
Leaning into his ear, I whisper, “ I’ll be waiting in the back for my induction into the club.”
Joe’s expression lights, but I can tell he can’t get off the phone right away.
“I can start without you if I need,” I tease, standing up.
Joe reaches for my waist, but I pull away. Every few feet as I move to the back of the plane, I look over my shoulder, giving him a seductive look to soothe his disappointment. Since there isn’t a bedroom, I head to the large restroom and close the door behind me. My hands drift over my breasts and down to my sex, unable to wait. I jump with a start when the door opens a minute later.
“Naughty,” Joe hums as he catches me with my hand down my pants.
I give a pleading look.
“I should spank you for that,” he declares.
“Really?” I say, eagerly anticipating the possibility.
Joe locks the door and restrains my wrists against the wall. “As bad as I want to, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” I complain. “I was naughty and I need to be punished.”
Joe leans in with a kiss, tugging my bottom lip as he pulls away. “You’re too noisy. I don’t think you’ll want Hunter and the guys hearing you.”
“They have their own bathroom in the front,” I bait. “Please.”
“Tonight,” he confirms.
“I don’t want to wait,” I protest.
“You were the one who was naughty, so you don’t get to decide,” he states.
“Please,” I coax, pouting.
Joe doesn’t say anything, instead he guides my hands above my head with one hand as the other slides into my unzipped pants and panties. His mouth devours mine as his fingers circle my nub and then insert into my already wet sex. He grunts his approval, quickly removing his fingers to taste my juice. Joe offers his fingers to me, but pulls away last second. I groan my objection, but purr when they return to my folds and start manipulating me in the way he does oh so well.
“Shh,” Joe instructs as my moans get louder. “If you make any more noise, I won’t let you finish.”
“I . . . can’t . . . help it,” I whine.
“Why is that?” Joe questions with a devious smile.
“Because . . .” I begin, sucking in air to finish answering.
“Do you like how I make you feel?” he asks, striking a sensitive spot that makes me whimper.
I do my best to curb the noises coming from my mouth by using the dip in his shoulder to cover my mouth. “Yes,” I pant.
“What do you like best?” he searches.
“They way you make me cum like nobody else,” I whimper. Heat rises in my cheeks at my openness.
“Good girl,” Joe praises, wiggling his fingers in a particular spot as if certain he could make me cum instantly.
My mouth plunges into his shoulder desperately trying to hide all the sounds erupting from me as the orgasm ignites. Before my breathing normalizes, Joe’s face is between my thighs, drinking up my release. When he’s finished, he yanks my pants and underwear down and then his own. I regretfully announce that we need to use a condom, but thankfully he has one in his wallet.