Page 16 of Pillow Talk

It’s not like I try to notice these things. I’m trying to keep it professional, but I am a man, after all.

“Oh, wow, look at that view. It’s beautiful,” she sighs, dreamily looking out the window at the City That Never Sleeps.

“I would have to agree,” I say, my eyes never having left her face.

A blush creeps up on her cheeks, and I’m reminded how much fun it is watching her skin heat with emotion. It makes me wonder what she would look like beneath me, face flushed with passion, eyes hooded with desire.

I really need to get out of this plane and into a cold shower.

Deciding to lighten the mood, I switch to teasing. "How was your nap, sleeping beauty?"

"Incredible," she answers honestly, pulling the blanket around her. "This first class seat is more comfortable than my bed."

After that last comment, she quickly turns her head, seemingly embarrassed to have let that slip.

I decide to change the subject, not wanting to make her anymore uncomfortable than she probably already is.

I forget what it feels like, the experience of flying first class for the very first time. I fly all the time, so it’s easy to take it for granted. It was like my first time all over again, watching how excited she got over all the little things, the amenities. I recall how impressed she was but tried try not to let on.

She's quite an enigma. Something about Alexa James has captivated me.

The announcement with landing instructions softly comes across the speaker, and both Alexa and I buckle up, preparing to land. I fight back the wave of nausea that threatens.

There's a little bit of turbulence, and the plane jerks. My hand instinctively grabs the seat, squeezing the soft leather, my tension building. I hate this part about flying. I can take off all day long, but landing…it gives me chills.

I feel something softly caressing the back of my hand. Heat courses through my body, alerting me that it's Alexa; I don't even have to look to know.

It's like my body instantly recognizes her touch. I wish things could be different between us. But she deserves better than me. Ben from the diner could be the right guy for her. But Benjamin Hamilton is all work and no play.

She draws circles on the back of my hand, forcing me to abandon my reasons for not being what’s best for her.

The plane shakes and rocks more. Creaking and groaning. A bead of sweat forms on my forehead. An announcement about turbulence rings in my ears and has me ready to vomit.

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to distract myself. Focusing on the job I have to do. The people I have to fool. Including myself, if I think for one second that Alexa and I won’t end up on bed together. My grip tightens.

"In case I forget to tell you later, thank you for this." Alexa's soft whisper breaks through the tension. I look over to find her doe eyes looking up at me, gorgeous blue like a midnight sky framed with thick lashes.

The plane leans to the right and then the left. More shaking. I'm trying to focus on her eyes, trying to lose myself and my fear in her deep baby blues. I feel panic rising in my chest like an anvil is repeatedly being lifted and dropped on it.

A cool hand touches my clammy cheek. "Ben. Hey, Ben, look at me."

I keep my eyes shut tight as I prepare for them to announce that the plane is going down.

Alexa gently pulls my face towards hers. The shaking continues, my ears are popping, so I know we're about to land. How humiliating. Big Bad Ben is a whiny little bitch afraid of a landing.

"Ben, hey." My eyes open, following the sound of her voice.

"Hey, there you are," she practically coos at me.

Before I can shut my eyes again, I feel her lips quickly press to mine. And in that instant, everything else fades into oblivion.

The brush of her lips is gentle at first. Almost like a kiss between old friends.

She applies more pressure, and once my brain catches up with what my body is feeling, I deepen the kiss by pulling her to me.

My hands abandoned their post on the arm rests to tangle in her blonde hair, pulling it loose from the messy bun that she wears it in. She moans into my mouth, our breaths tangling.

My tongue darts out licking the seam between her lips, begging for an invitation.