Bound to You:The Complete Novel

By: Vanessa Booke

“Are you all right?” he asks. A quiet concern shrouds his face. He doesn’t immediately let me go. He simply moves his hand to brush back a loose tendril from my face. The touch of his fingertips heats my skin like liquid fire. It spreads in a rapid rush of heat down my body, exposing me beneath his unrelenting stare. His grasp tightens around my waist, and for a moment, I feel something hard poking me beneath my jeans. Is that? Oh, my.

“I should get back to my seat before that stewardess has a heart attack,” I whisper. The sentence sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Stay.” His husky voice draws me in. There’s a slight accent to his voice, but I can’t quite place it. I’ve never been a snob about the guys I’ve dated, but there’s something about an accent that just makes women’s panties drop. It’s probably not the only thing about him that would turn me on. His eyes linger over me, watching me closely. If I knew I was going to meet the living Adonis on an airplane, I probably wouldn’t have been so afraid to fly. No, that’s probably a lie. I still would’ve been scared, but I definitely would’ve picked a cuter outfit.

Now, this beautiful Greek god has his hands on me, and I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to have them inside me. I reach up and stroke the hair that trails below his bottom lip. I want to know what it feels like to kiss him. It isn’t until I hear almost a low growl in his throat that I realize what I’m doing. Jesus, Rebecca. You’re fondling a complete stranger. I pull back my hand, but he immediately brings it back to his lips. He takes my fingers and slowly kisses them. I inhale sharply as he runs his beard on the inside of my wrist. For some reason, it feels unexpectedly intimate, as if we’re old lovers, and despite the cloistered space around us, it feels like the whole world is watching.

He stops and looks up at me before leaning in. His mouth captures mine in a heated kiss. I’m hesitant as he starts to slowly nibble my bottom lip, gently making his way to the top one. The sensation of his hands grazing my breast causes me to moan. He traces his thumb along my neckline and I give in to his kiss. A whirlwind of lust passes through my body, and I instantly grow wet. He pulls me closer, and soon, I’m so enraptured by the feeling of his mouth on me that I forget what it feels like to breathe. A strange electric charge dissipates as we pull apart. I smile inwardly at the realization that he’s panting almost as much as I am.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, staring down at me.

His question makes me uneasy. Not because it’s too personal, but because what I’m thinking about involves him undressing me. He’s a stranger. Someone I’ll never see again, and right now, I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Maybe part of moving on means doing things you wouldn’t normally do. Like hooking up with handsome strangers forty-thousand feet in the air or maybe I’m just trying to numb my pain. It’s time to stop living in a fantasy.

“It was nice meeting you, but I do need to get back to my seat,” I whisper, unwinding myself from him.

“If you insist,” he says with a polite smile. I want to tell him thank you, but telling him thank you for the kiss sounds way too awkward in my head. I can only imagine what it would sound like if I actually said it.

“I hope to see you around,” he says.

“Me, too.”

I’ll never see him again, and while I really wish I could spend the rest of the plane ride with him up here, it would be a mistake. It’s been less than a month since Miles. I don’t need to go chasing someone else. I just need to be alone. I don’t want to be one of those girls who always need a guy on her arm to feel complete. I don’t want prince charming to come save me and fix everything. I want to save myself.

I leave without asking for his number, and he doesn’t stop me to ask for mine. Disappointment creeps into the back of my mind. I’m not sure what I was hoping for. This isn’t some romantic comedy where the gorgeous playboy falls in love with the shy curvy girl. My grandmother used to have a saying—what’s yours, no one else can take. I guess if it’s meant to be, maybe I’ll meet him again one day, but for now, I’m happy with the calmness that he’s enveloped me in. I hold onto it as I make my way back to my seat and fall asleep for the rest of the trip.

I don’t wake again until I hear the sound of the captain announcing that we will be landing at the JFK airport in less than fifteen minutes. After flying over three-thousand miles in a cramped, overbooked airplane, I’m more than anxious to be on the ground again. Four hours of flying is exhausting, and I am definitely mentally drained. I keep reminding myself that it’s all worth it. Soon, I’ll be in the big city and thus begins my journey of trying to land a job at StoneHaven Publishing. With a little luck, by this time next month, I’ll be working and living in my own apartment. New York, here I come.

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