Bound to You:The Complete Novel

By: Vanessa Booke

“Are you laughing at me?” I ask, clenching back my irritation.

He eyes me with curiosity as he slowly studies me. He’s a playboy I’m sure. Handsome men like him are trouble. I’m sure he’s used to women throwing themselves at his feet. I silently admire the light beard he sports. It makes him look like a bit of a rogue in his grey tailored suit. His facial hair reminds me of the way Miles used to wear his. He used to run his chin across my bare skin in the morning. It was his way of waking me up. I loved the way it felt on me when we made love. The way it used to feel before he went and smashed my whole world into tiny little pieces.

My eyes stray to his hand and a mixture of lustful emotions cling to me, warming my insides. I’m strangely relieved to see no ring on his finger. That doesn’t mean he’s not married. He totally could be. I find myself unknowingly leaning into him and his alluring scent of spicy cinnamon and fresh mint leaves. It reminds me of my favorite homemade tea back in Cali.

“Can I help you find something?” he asks, grazing over my comment.

“I dropped my purse.” His hand never leaves my wrist as he gently helps me up. My legs are unstable. I wobble to a stand.

“Let me help,” he says with another smile.

“It’s caught on your chair,” I say.

The stewardess lingering in the back clears her throat, directing our attention back toward her. She waits in front of our aisle looking extremely nervous. “I apologize, sir, would you like me to escort this young lady back to her seat?” I turn, glancing from him to her. I’ve never seen anyone so worried. Who is this guy? Maybe he’s some rich hot shot. It doesn’t matter. I should mind my own business and get back to my seat.

“Melissa, it’s fine. She isn’t bothering me,” he says without looking up. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone address a stewardess by their first name, not unless they were purposely trying to be snarky, but reading his tone, it’s more irritation than anything else. He seems like someone who’s used to bossing people around. Or maybe he just flies this airline often.

“I apologize, Mr. St —”

“That will be all, thank you.” He waves her off like an annoying fly. She scurries off back to the back of the plane without looking back. Part of me feels sorry for her. She was just doing her job even if she was kind of bitchy. I’m sure I would’ve done the same thing.

“Is this it?” he says, handing me my purse and wallet. Somehow, even my gigantic bag seems so small in his hands. His hand grazes mine, sending a tingling vibration up my arm. I try my best not to stare at his fingers, but I can’t stop myself. I have a thing for hands, and his are the type you don’t mind wrapping around you or inside of you.

I blush instantly as he clears his throat, indicating that I’ve lingered in his presence for much too long. Ironically, my motion sickness pills are still under his chair, but I don’t even bother mentioning it. I need to get out of here. The same out-of-breath feeling I felt a moment ago in my seat has returned. I don’t need to be embarrassed more than once this week.

“Yes, thank you. Excuse me.” I try to go, but the warmth of his touch returns as he captures my hand.

“Your name, you didn’t tell me it.” He’s smiling again. I blush as his touch sends goose bumps up my skin. The air grows warmer by the minute as his fingers rub circular motions across the skin of my wrist. I’ve never felt anything quite as erotic as this, and my clothes aren’t even off. I’m almost too willing to jump into his lap. My blush deepens at the thought of what he might feel like on top of me. Since when did I become so horny? I have to admit, sex has been the last thing on my mind since the disaster with Miles. I haven’t had the urge to be with anyone. Yet, right now, I can almost feel the sexual energy radiating off him. There are just some men who scream sex, and he’s definitely one of them.

“My name is Rebecca,” I respond, nearly breathless.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Becca,” he says, kissing my hand. “I’m Nicholas.” His lips feel cool like ice water against my skin, and I smile at the way he’s shortened my name. I don’t typically let anyone call me Becca, but I’m inclined to let this handsome stranger call me whatever he wants as long as he keeps touching me.

I cling to his chair as a sudden shift in the plane throws me off balance. The cabin rings signaling the plane’s stewardesses to check each passenger’s seatbelt. I should’ve gone back to my seat. I sway backwards almost losing my balance, but Nicholas grips my hand, pulling me back. I’m almost steady until the plane dips, pushing me straight into his lap. The sudden force of my body colliding into his sends his tablet flying onto the floor with a thud. He catches me by the waist, his fingers sliding down to my bottom. I know it isn’t intentional, but his touch is undeniably sensual.

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