“That is so twisted…but kind of sweet and hot at the same time. Just like you.”

“See…you get me. You accept me for the panty sniffer I am. This is why you can’t leave me. No one else will have me.” I kissed her hard then spoke into her neck, “Don’t leave me, Perky. Don’t leave me in Dubai. Come home to Florida with me…one more leg of the adventure. Then, you make your big decision…after Boca. What do you say?”

“Going home with you is a bit different than jet-setting around the world. Let me think about it on the flight back to Dubai, okay? I’ll have seven hours to reflect and then I’ll give you my decision about Florida.”

As much as I wished that she’d given me an instant yes, I had to respect her wishes without argument.

That night, I held her tightly as we slept in a more intimate position than ever before—with my engorged cock pressed against her ass through the fabric of her nightshirt. My dick was begging for more just as much as I was.

The worst part was the pain in my chest that went along with a particular Beatles song that kept playing in my head. The song wasn’t quite loud enough yet, more like faded background music that my mind wasn’t sure it was ready to turn to full volume. I wasn’t ready to believe it. Nevertheless, the song was there.

And I Love Her.

I FELT LIKE A SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL, crazy over the boy who wore a leather jacket and was always getting detention in high school. That might have had something to do with the fact that I was getting felt up in the corner of an airport magazine stand when Carter thought no one was looking.

“Stop,” I whispered in warning, but couldn’t stop myself from smiling. Carter stood behind me as I faced a magazine rack, one hand discreetly slipped under my shirt as he fondled my left breast.

“I totally get the appeal of traveling without a bra now. In fact, I insist you never wear one again when we’re together. Being able to reach up and cup this luscious tit…” He squeezed. “…whenever I want, is fucking amazing. Burn your bras, Perky.”

I chuckled. An older man walked up to the rack and stood beside me. Rather than remove his hand from my shirt, Carter decided to pinch my nipple. Hard. A cross between a moan and an ouch came out, and I tried to cover it by faking a cough. “Excuse me,” I said when the man looked at me.

I elbowed Carter in the ribs when the guy walked away. He groaned, yet somehow managed to get a last tweak of my nipple in before pulling his hand out of my shirt. “We’re in a public place. Stop that.”

Carter took the shell of my ear between his teeth and bit down as he whispered in my ear. “You love it, and you know it.”

He was absolutely right. I did love it. Although Carter was the type of man you could never let know that. He’d have no qualms with a public groping session. And if I’d learned one thing about how I react to him physically, it was that I should be careful what I start because once we get going, it was next to impossible to stop myself.

“I’m going to hit the head before we board. Pick out your magazines. I’ll be right back.” He reached in to the rack and pulled a paperback copy of Fifty Shades of Grey off and handed it to me. “Let’s buy this, too. You can highlight the dirty parts, and then when you decide to come home with me, we can act out some scenes.” He winked.

I was just finishing up picking out the last of my magazines for the plane ride when Alexa approached. Captain Alexa. I hated that just seeing this woman could make me feel so unsettled.

“Kendra. How nice to see you. Have you lost Trip already?” Bitch.

“It’s Kendall, and Carter will be right back.” I picked up a magazine and did my best to ignore her, returning my full attention as I thumbed through.

She stood next to me for another moment before speaking again. God, the bitch even smelled good. “Você leu holandês?” she said.

“Umm…Huh?”

She laughed. No, actually, she didn’t laugh. She cackled.

I walked to the register confused, until I looked down and realized I had been pretend reading a Dutch language People magazine.

Carter appeared when it was just the two of us left in line. Captain Bitchface was standing behind me. “Alexa. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?” Her voice perked up.

He wrapped his arm around my waist possessively. “Would you mind giving me about ten minutes once we’re ready to board? I want to show Kendall the cockpit. Give my girl a tour.”

“Ummm…sure.”

The minute we walked away from the newsstand, I stopped Carter. Throwing my arms around his neck, I kissed him long and hard in the middle of the terminal. When we finally broke, both of us breathless, he smiled and said, “I’m not complaining, but what was that for?”

“Nothing. Can’t your girl just kiss you whenever she wants?”

ABOUT THREE HOURS into the flight, I decided to put my seat back and try to get some sleep. I’d pretty much done nothing but obsess about what I should do once we landed since Carter mentioned he wanted to take me home with him to Florida. I closed my eyes, but should have known my brain would never be able to shut down and rest. Instead, I began visualizing what it might be like at home with Carter in a sort of half-awake-half-sleep daydream.

What would the place he lived in look like? I’d never been to Boca, so I wasn’t sure of the architecture or the layout, but somehow I pictured him in a tall, sleek, modern, high-rise. Maybe even the penthouse suite. We’d walk through the impressive glass and steel lobby, say hello to a uniformed guard, and head straight to the waiting elevator. Carter would slip a keycard in the slot on the elevator panel and we’d shoot straight to the top floor without stopping. He’d smile at me in the reflection of the shiny silver doors, and I’d smile back, excitement coursing through my veins as I waited to be in the privacy of Carter’s home. Arriving at the top, the doors would slide open—giving us direct entry to his apartment.

In my semi-conscious dream state, I took a deep breath in and prepared to step inside. It was then my dream turned into a nightmare. Standing just inside, in front of the floor to ceiling windows of the sunken living room, stood three flight attendants. All three were naked from head to toe, except for navy stilettos and little pillbox-style hats tilted to the side.