She placed her dainty fingers against my palm, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked down at where our palms met then up at my lips.
I slipped the engagement ring into place, stroking my skin over hers, drawing goosebumps.
“What are you doing?” Hazel asked, breathless.
“Desensitizing you,” I replied. “Did you think we’d get through this weekend without touching each other?”
“No.” Hazel didn’t tug herself out of my grasp. “But we only need to do this in public. There’s no one here.”
“Practice makes perfect. Or are you afraid you’ll break the cardinal rule?”
“What rule?”
“Don’t fall for me. That rule.”
“So arrogant.” She ripped her hand away and got up, stumbled, and nearly fell.
I placed my hands on her hips and steadied her. She went stiff under my touch, and, shit, so did I. This was why Hazel was so damn dangerous. The sexual chemistry between us was off the charts.
I rose, settling my hands on her curves, and brushed her ear with the tip of my nose, directing hot breath over her neck.
She shivered. “What are you doing?”
“Practicing.” I drew fingers down her throat, the thrum of her pulse a reminder of the sway I held over her. And the responsibility I had not to fuck this up. “Gentle touches, like this,” I said, brushing her cheek. “You’re stiff.”
“I’m not the only one.”
Touché. I was hard as rock again, my erection nestled against her peachy ass cheeks.
“Relax, Hazel. Into my arms.”
The gentle slope of her neck up to her jaw presented me with a problem. I wanted to bring my mouth to it, but that wasn’t technically something I’d do in public.
“Where will we be seen?” Hazel asked, still not relaxed staring toward the door that separated the tan, leather cabin from the front of the plane where the solitary air hostess waited to be summoned.
“My father will expect us to be at events, dinners, lunches. We might even have to dance.” I turned her in my arms swiftly, then looped an arm around her waist, brought my forehead against hers.
Still, Hazel resisted, glaring daggers into my eyes.
“Arms around my neck.”
She slid them up my chest, and I gritted my teeth. “You wanted this.”
You have no idea. I tightened my grip on her, pulling her closer, sliding my hand down the back of her cotton dress. I stopped just above her ass, and the sheer force of will I exerted to keep from moving any lower could’ve halted a moving train.
“Careful,” she breathed.
“Relax, Hazel. Lower your shoulders. Take a breath.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
I stroked the small of her back, testing her, and she flinched. “You can’t do that when I touch you. My father will know instantly, and if he figures it out, the deal’s off.”
“Yeah, I figured as much.”
“So, don’t flinch.” I dipped my hand onto her ass this time, and give one deliciously round, firm cheek a squeeze.
She jolted on the spot, her breasts bouncing, nipples rubbing against my chest. “I’m trying,” she said. “And do you really think you’ll be grabbing my ass in front of your father?”
I nuzzled her neck with my nose, inhaling her scent. “No,” I said. “This is just for me.”
Hazel grabbed my lapels and scrunched them in her hands. My suit probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, but I didn’t give a fuck. Christ, she intoxicated me. It wasn’t normal for me to lose control like this, to set willpower and goals aside, just for the barest hint of a taste, a touch.
I filled my palms with her ass, squeezing, slipping my fingers underneath the hem of her skirt and toward her perfect inner thigh gap. She wore a fucking thong, and the fabric guarding her pussy from my hungry explorations was already soaked through.
My dick throbbed, demanding attention. “I could take you now,” I said, against her neck. “I could slip inside you again, make the trip worth your while.” I rubbed the wet cotton, circling the spot over her clit.
Hazel grew even more tense, her knuckles white against my chest, now, her breathing heightened, pulse hammering against my lips. I opened them on her neck and sucked her flesh into my mouth.
She moaned, gently, gyrating against my fingers, but just a little. Not enough to indicate she was ready for reckless abandon. Shit, to join the mile-high club.
The door that separated us from the pilot and crew opened, and the air hostess stepped into the cabin.
Hazel pulled away from me so hard the backs of her calves hit the chair and she slumped into it, red in the face.
I casually readjusted my suit to cover my erection and took my place next to her.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Woods,” Mandy, the flight assistant said. “But we’re going to be landing soon, and the Captain asked that everybody put on their seatbelts.”
“Thank you.” Hazel refused to meet Mandy’s eye, so I took hold of my fake fiancée’s hand and squeezed her fingers, ensuring the ring was on full display. “Can’t keep our hands off each other.”
Hazel made an indistinct noise in her throat.
“So good to see you happy, Mr. Woods.” Mandy left us to prepare for the landing.
The minute she was gone, Hazel pulled out of my grip and folded her arms.
I couldn’t help but smile. This was going to be one hell of an interesting weekend.
16
Hazel
Deep breaths, in and out, it’s going to be OK. You can do this. It’s just one weekend.
I repeated the sentiments in my mind, all the way from the airport to the car, in the car ride over, and to the Eagle’s Rest Resort and Spa, which was about two miles outside of the nearest town. And then we were getting out of the car, and Damien’s hand was in the small of my back while a bellboy wearing a smart cream-and-gold uniform loaded our luggage onto a cart.
“He’ll be around here somewhere,” Damien said. “Prepare yourself.”
“Your father?”
“No. Santa Claus.”
“Dick,” I muttered,
