“So why is Jackson so overprotective of his sister who clearly has the ability to protect herself and a small village?”
Jillian chuckled. “Since our parents died, I’m all he has and he’s all I have.”
AJ’s lips pulled into a firm line.
“Well, until you decided to make me your business.”
“Business is good.”
She laughed. “Cage would be proud. I do believe Mr. Serious is flirting … actually joking with me.”
In true Sarge style, AJ had to blow out the candle. “Well, don’t get used to it. It never lasts.”
Jillian stared at the entrance sign to the airport. Were she and AJ on that list of things that wouldn’t last?
*
AJ Monaghan was taking a woman to his parents’ house for the first time since his divorce. The invite wasn’t to meet his parents, it was more for a travel companion. Meeting his parents was an unavoidable part of the trip. Dealing with Jillian’s gifted talent of making him want to fuck her senseless with every word that fell from her snarky mouth also happened to be an unavoidable part of the trip.
“Do you mind if I sit by the window?” Jillian rested her hand on his chest as he lifted their bags into the overhead compartment. She did that a lot. It was an odd gesture and the hand of any other woman would have made him uncomfortable or even agitated, but he craved her touch. He craved everything about her.
“It’s all yours.”
“Thanks.” She reached up on her toes and kissed his neck. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. Public displays of affection were part of who she was, never giving any consideration to onlookers. It made the promise or threat of her intentions for their flight that much more terrifying.
“Do you like to fly?”
She shut off her phone and shoved her purse under the seat in front of her. “I don’t know. This will be my first time on a plane.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.” She fastened her seat belt then gave him a smile.
“How is that possible?”
“Cars, trains, subways, boats …” She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m so damn horny right now,” she whispered over his lips.
He cleared his throat. “You’re not nervous?”
“About sex on a plane?”
His brow tightened as he shook his head. “No, about flying. About not being in control of the plane.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll be in control of something or someone.” She wet her lips.
The uncomfortable strain of his cock pushed against his jeans, growing worse by the second.
“Flying gets you there quicker.”
Jillian stared ahead at the attendants making final preparations. “Maybe I like the journey better than the destination. Have you really never been in the Mile High Club?”
The older lady in front of AJ looked back. She wore a hearing aid that apparently worked just fine. He gave her a small apologetic smile. After she turned back around, leaving him with a nasty look, he leaned over and whispered in Jillian’s ear.
“If you censor your words and the rest of your body for the duration of the flight, I’ll find a place to fuck you nine ways to Sunday just as soon as we get off the plane.”
She grinned, as only Jillian Knight would do. He made a warning and a promise, but from her smile he felt certain all she heard was the promise.
“I like the alliteration of seven ways to Sunday, grammatically speaking. However, in reference to your promise, nine is a much better number.”
Ten minutes later they were in the air. Jillian showed no anxiety during takeoff and seemed content staring out the window. AJ leaned his chair back and closed his eyes, praying for an uneventful flight with the most unpredictable woman he had ever met.
Lulled to sleep by the mild turbulence, AJ woke when the flight attendant stopped in the aisle for their drink order. She handed Jillian what looked like a mixed drink as Jillian handed her cash.
“Anything for you, sir?”
“Water.” He glanced at Jillian. “Thought you were going to behave.”
She took a sip then grinned. “Oh, I am—Nine ways to Sunday.”
“Pretzels?”
AJ shook his head at the attendant.
“I’ll take his.” Jillian smiled.
“Are you enjoying your first time?” AJ asked.
She popped a pretzel in her mouth. “First time?”
“Flying.”
“Oh … uh, yeah, sure. Can you pilot a plane?”
“Not this one, but yes. I used to fly fighter planes.”
“Missiles? Bombs?”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
AJ tapped the empty plastic cup on his leg. “Now I advise with the Logistics and Readiness Squadron.”
“Career military. Was it your dream?”
“I didn’t sit around dreaming about my future. I just did it.”
Jillian gulped the rest of her drink. “Yeah, my question was a bit more metaphorical, but whatever.”
“Did you dream of selling … what you sell?”
“Yes. My mom had at least a hundred erotica books in the study and my dad hid his subscription to Playboy in the bottom drawer of his tool chest. Our neighbor was a minister who was arrested for soliciting a prostitute, and my high school guidance counselor’s ass landed in jail for selling photos online of the high school volleyball team taking showers in the locker room. No one ever figured out how he got them.”