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I’d done it. I’d “married” a perfect stranger after being left at the altar by a cheating ex-fiancé. In the blink of an eye, we were on a plane to The Bahamas to spend my honeymoon with a guy I had just met. It was official. I was crazy.
So why did it feel so right?
Reaching across the seat, I tapped Shawn’s knee. “Not to sound like a travel agent,” I said, “but the best thing we should do right now is sleep. I know it’s only an hour and a half flight, but once we land, we’ll be spending the rest of the day standing in line for several hours to board the boat, and the last thing we want to be is exhausted by the time we make it to our room.”
He shifted to face me. His deep dimples made my heart soar. A single dark curl had fallen down his forehead, and I ached to move it away.
“Think I’ll be too tired to carry you over the threshold?” he asked. He gave me a genuine smile, and my pulse fluttered wildly. How was it that he held such power over me? It wasn’t like we’d known each other for years or anything. We literally met and “married” yesterday. We’d made it through the fake ceremony, took our wedding photos, and muddled our way through a reception designed around another groom. Not only that, but we’d also survived a wedding night resisting the consummation of our pretend marriage, and we were now on our first flight as a “couple.” A flight that would take us to Florida, where we would then board a cruise ship for a week. Plenty of time in which to get to know each other better. But that was the kicker. Getting to know him might be dangerous. I already felt like I had fallen for Shawn. Hard. Which was insane. People don’t fall in love that fast. Do they?
I realized he was still awaiting an answer to his saucy question. As hard as it was to pull my eyes off his, I tugged at my T-shirt. The one he’d modified for me. Changing it from my ex’s last name to his with a Sharpie—while I was wearing it. My nips hardened as I remembered his firm yet deliberate touch.
“I don’t doubt your physical abilities in the slightest,” I said quietly. I glanced to my side. There was a woman beside Shawn who had already put on a sleep mask. Her hands were clasped firmly over her waist. The man in the aisle seat across from us had his phone out and seemed lost to the world around him. No one was listening to our conversation. Everyone had their unique realities to contend with, so I didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing my cheeks change color. “I’m sure your caveman skills are strong,” I whispered. “I don’t want to be tired when we get to our room. I’m anxious to hit the pool. I’ve already got my bikini on.” I wiggled my eyebrows for good measure.
“Have you, now?” he asked. “Doesn’t look that way to me.” He peeked at my chest with zero regard for who might be watching us.
“It’s under my T-shirt, ding-dong.” I giggled.
“Ding-dong? That’s a new one. Oh! Here’s an idea. Go to the bathroom and text me a pic of the suit before they make us turn off our phones.” He frowned. “Wait, I just realized... I don’t have your number.”
It was true. He didn’t. Nor did I have his. I knew virtually nothing about the man I was about to spend five days with. Not my smartest moment.
“My ‘husband,’” I said, using air quotes, “should probably have my number, huh? For emergencies?”
“Yes. And so I can send you dick pics.” He winked.
My eyes widened as I looked again at the people beside us. Shawn’s laugh as he settled into his seat for the flight had me shaking my head.
A second later, I got a friend request from him on social media. I accepted his request at once. As soon as I did, a DM came up.
Skip the bathroom. Prove to me you’re wearing a bikini under your shirt right now.
I glanced over at him, but his eyes were glued to his phone, waiting for my reply. You want me to take my shirt off? On a crowded airplane? I typed, slightly turned on by the idea.
Just pull the neckline and take a quick selfie. It’s not like you’re naked or anything. It’s a bathing suit. There’s no law against wearing a bathing suit.
He had a point. Still...it felt dangerous. Checking for flight attendants, I noted they were all busy closing the overhead bins. Shawn’s seat partner was still under her sleep mask. Emboldened, I lifted the collar of my shirt and took a picture.
A quick check of the image confirmed I’d gotten an excellent cleavage shot. Biting my lip, I sent the photo and waited to see his reaction.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered.
Grinning, I texted him back. What can I say? I’m proud of my girls. What about you? I typed. Is there a part of your body you’re most proud of? I could think of several parts of him that pleased me, but I could hardly ask for a photo of any of those.
People seem to like my smile.
It’s a great smile, I typed, but your cock is your real masterpiece.
I knew he was looking at me, but I kept my eyes on the screen with a devilish grin on my lips. After a second, the dots bounced up and down.
You keep talking like this, and we might have to join the mile-high club.
A laugh escaped my lips, and the woman beside Shawn shifted.
As tempting as that may be, the idea of sex in a cramped, filthy bathroom doesn’t sound very romantic.
His sigh made me smile.
Fine. But when we get into our cabin, it’s gonna be my turn to feast on you.
I felt my mouth water at the idea.
I should probably warn you, he typed, I have an epic tongue game. Now, get some rest. You’re gonna need it.
Holy shit. There was no way I was sleeping now.
