Can't Touch This (32 page)

“I’m really okay.  I’m tough.  I had to get over it and stop hating myself for bad judgment.  Now I’m back to doing what’s best for Vanessa Virtue.”  Kyle’s what’s best for me.  I want to change the subject and not bring the mood down.

“Yeah, I can tell.  You and Barry Manilow really hit it off,” he says.

I fall forward laughing.  “His name was
Larry
Manilow.  And he was a complete and total jackass.  I never want to be in a situation like that again.  Thank you for rescuing me.  Why was that?”

“I saw him grope you under the table.”

“And?”

“And I didn’t like it.”  His eyes narrow, then he smiles.  “It wasn’t professional.”

“I saw him staring at you today during the meeting,” Kyle says.  He’s so close I can make out tiny flecks of gold in his hazel eyes.  His pupils are enlarged in an ever-so-dreamy look.

I venture out courageously.  “No more than when you stare at me during the sales, marketing, and client services meeting.”

“It’s a mutual stare,” he says with great confidence.  He leans his seat back as far as it will go and stretches out his legs.

“Kyle, I’m sorry for everything.  For putting the company first, for not noticing all you had to offer, for screwing up with the competition, and for thinking HR regulations could keep me from the one person I wanted.”  I swallow hard and hope the words came out right.  “You’re the one I want.  Maybe we can go out on a date and see if we’ve got potential?”

There.  I did it.  Cards on the table.

“Break company rules?” he asks with a grin.

The hell with the rules.  “Well, yeah.”

He tightens his grip.  “I think we’re already on a date.”

I sigh and will my heart to calm down.  “Then you forgive me?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.  We all screw up.  God knows I have.  It’s how we handle things moving forward that counts.”

For a few moments we don’t speak.  In the stillness of the plane, all I can hear is the hammering of my heart.  The silence is coupled with an intense moment of our eyes syncing up.  I let go of his hand long enough to lift the armrest that lies between us.  Our bodies meet at several points:  shoulders, elbows, forearms, hips, and knees.  Delicious and sensual.  My heart skips a beat when he drapes his forearm over mine, placing it on my thigh and resting his hand lazily on the inside of my left knee.  A warmth covers me and settles in a long-ago familiar ache in my womb.  The happiness inside me threatens to burst forth and sing like a Broadway musical.

I look over and see Kyle’s eyes begin to close.  Poor thing.  He’s been on the go so much he’s ready to crash.  (I shouldn’t use “crash” when referring to someone on an airplane.)

“Kyle,” I whisper.  “You can’t fall asleep during our date.”

He rubs his hand up and down my arm in a soft, circular manner.  “If we were at home nearing the end of our date, I’d ask you in to watch TV.  We’d curl up on the couch and fall asleep, just like we did on the way home from Vegas.”

I remember that fondly.  “Sounds cozy,” I say, pressing closer to him.

His head lops to the side and he whispers in a sexy voice, “I loved falling asleep—and waking up—with you.”

I can’t hold back any longer because I feel like I’m going to burst.  “I’m crazy about you, Kyle,” I whisper.

A broad smile crosses his face.  “I’m nuts about you, too.”

K
yle pulls me
across the seat until I land on his chest.  His arm serpentines around my shoulder and his fist holds my hand to his chest.  I can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart that matches my own chaotic pulse.

The plane is dark except for the scattered overhead lights illuminating a few hard-working business people.  The hue is like candlelight and the reflection dances in Kyle’s eyes.  His black lashes lower and his face moves closer.

Finally.  The moment I’ve been waiting for.

“Can I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks, hovering above my lips.

“Is our date over?”

“Maybe...”

“What if I’m not ready for you to take me home yet?”

“What did you have in mind?”

I close my eyes.  “A kiss, for starters.”

Lightning surely strikes the plane and renders its passengers motionless because once Kyle’s lips touch mine everything else ceases to exist.  His mouth is warm, soft, and moist.  I give in fully to the passion, melting toward him.  His hand curves to cup the side of my face, stroking and tracing my neck as he deepens the kiss.  I willingly participate in the delicious festivities, moving my hand up his chest, nearly searing my fingers on the warm flesh at the collar of his shirt.  He shifts me, setting me over his lap, and angles his head to allow his tongue to probe deeper.

His lips are firm, but confident as they level over my mouth.  His tongue brushes along mine, coupling, exploring, claiming it as his own.  The kiss is a serious and sweeping union of our mouths.  I can’t remember ever being kissed this thoroughly in my life.  I let out a moan of gratification as my mouth meets the light demand of his tongue.

I can’t resist the urge I’ve had since the first day I saw him.  My hand slips into his short, spiky hair, which is unexpectedly soft and satiny.  I laugh against his lips at the silly thought entering my brain.

He pulls back a tad.  “What?”

“I was wondering if that’s your natural hair color?”

He holds my chin up with his forefinger and gives me a mock evil grin.  “That’s what you’re thinking about while I’m kissing you?  You want to know what color my hair is?”

“Well, my hands
are
in your hair.”

“What you see is what you get.”  Before recapturing my lips, he says, “now be quiet.”

The air sizzles around us as we touch and explore the texture of clothes, skin, and hair.  I hear a guttural groan churn from deep within Kyle and I feel the manly physical reaction caused by our voracious appetites.  These are adult kisses.  A sensual ravishment.  I want more.  And I sense he does, too.  We’ve waited a long time for this.  But we’re on an airplane.  Hanging high in the night sky.

His hands move to my back, pulling me closer to him as his fingers splay down my sides.  His fingertips brush the curve of my breasts and I gasp.  Every hair on my body stands on end and I wait for what will happen next.

“Touch me, Vanessa.”  He sighs into my mouth.

I am touching him.  My hands are spread over his chest.  His lips, wet and cooling, venture their way down the side of my neck, stopping to engulf my earlobe before moving further down the open collar of my blouse.  His nose nudges the soft red material aside as he bends down further, his breath whispers against the swell of my breasts.  Tentatively, my hand slides down his firm and taut stomach.  I tug at his shirttail that’s tucked into his jeans.

Kyle sucks in a deep breath when my hand moves to the obvious bulge in his pants.  I hold still for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of what’s below.  His desire is quite apparent and I want to stroke further although I’m apprehensive about our surroundings.  I don’t question his feelings or what I want to do.  He’s not using me.  He’s been up front with his feelings.  He accepts me just as I am.  He said he’s nuts about me.  There’s nothing hidden beneath the surface.  Well, there’s
something
hidden that’s making its presence known.

Suddenly, he stops my hand.  His eyes scorch into mine and he sets me aside, moving away.  He leans over and whispers so faintly I almost don’t believe he’s there, “come with me, you.”  He has a wicked evil grin on his face as he gently tugs me from my seat.

Hand in hand, we slip down the few remaining aisles to the back where a flight attendant is busy reading a novel, totally unaware of us at this late hour.  Kyle opens the lavatory and pulls me in behind him, locking the door.

We’re nose to nose, pressed together in the small space.  “I’m being presumptuous,” he says.

“I don’t think so,” I say, my heart pounding out a tribal rhythm he must surely hear.

“Are you sure?”

“Well,
this
is something I’ve never done.”

“Me either.”  His laugh is warm against me; his hands running up and down my arms.  “First time for everything.”

For some reason I’m not nervous and I’m not concerned about what he’s thinking or where this is going.  I’m letting destiny guide me.

Kyle moves his face toward mine and his expression draws ever so serious.  “Vanessa, I want you so much”

I gasp at his forthright admission.  “I want you, too.”

There’s this intense thrill from him needing me and also over being in a public place where we might get caught.  However, the sensation flowing through me is exhilarating.  I don’t think twice.  In fact, I don’t think at all.  There’s no need to.

This is about the two of us.

Alone.

Together.

Kyle holds me against the bathroom wall and presses his full length into me, slowly grinding his obvious passion into my thigh.  I return his ardor by kissing him with all the strength in my tired body.  My tongue traces the inner cavern of his sumptuous mouth.  When I draw back to see his reaction, he’s breathing heavily.  I can feel the locomotion of his heart under my palms.

His eyes are smoky with desire as he takes my face in his hands and continues kissing me like I’m a precious commodity.  This isn’t just hooking up.  I’m being worshipped, pampered, and I’m about to receive the most delectable treat ever.

My hands return to his half-tugged shirt bottom and I boldly draw it out of his waistband.  I don’t stop there.  I haul the fabric over his head and drop it on the bathroom floor, under our feet.  I run my fingernails over his lean flesh, feeling the heat from his body.  He nearly tears the buttons of my blouse to reach my skin.  Thank heavens I’m wearing my brand new lacy pale pink bra.  I suck in, hoping no fatty rolls show, but he’s not concerned with judging me...only loving me.  He bends his head and kisses me through the fabric, bringing my nipples to attention.  His nimble fingers unhook the clasp and my breasts fill his hands.

I push him back momentarily to gaze upon his amazing physique.  Strong shoulders, a magnificent chest, and abs like a xylophone, sprinkled with a few dark hairs that taper down his middle into a dreamy stream to his manhood.  My eyes consume him like a gourmet feast, his trim waist, his taut leg muscles, and his stunning erection that’s meant only for me.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I say, unable to stop the words from escaping my mouth.  His face breaks out in a deep-hued blush.  I tug him toward me for another breathtaking kiss, kneading my hands into his powerful back as his nimble fingers move over my shoulders, down my sides and up under my breasts.

Then his fingers slide up and comb through my hair.  He looks at me with those clear eyes.  “So are you, Vanessa.”

I bend and kiss my way across his expansive chest.  When my lips bump into his nipple, I raise my eyes to meet his.  Seconds turn into minutes that turn into eons.  I slide my tongue over him with delicate licks and nips.  I’m in complete control of this manly beast that stands before me, moaning with pleasure.

Before recapturing my lips, he says.  “I can’t take much more.”

“Me either.”

Fingers fumble with buttons, zippers, cloth, and elastic.  Flesh couples with flesh and fingers entwine as we grind against each other in this infinitely small space.

Kyle directs me up onto the miniature counter.  His hands skim down my hips and his thumbs hook in the waistband of my panties.  I mimic his action, sliding his boxer briefs to the floor with his jeans.  He wraps my legs around his waist and angles my body so his penetration will be perfect.  When he enters me, I realize he has on a rubber.  I mentally question where he got it, and then nothing sane enters my mind.  All I know is I want him, need him, and I’m having him.

He apparently needs me as much because his hunger shows in his face.  We’re both consumed in the passion play and heat of the moment.  Our motion is as dynamic as violent turbulence.  There’s that same nervous falling feeling, together with a gasping for air and a stronghold on something solid.  Kyle’s muscles provide that.

His movement inside me is forceful and strong, yet magnetic in its effects on me.  With each thrust, I’m drawn around him more and more.  His groan is beautiful to my ears as he speeds up to the climax.  My legs drape around his back while I pound against the bathroom mirror.  I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out in sheer ecstasy.  The faucet slams into my rear, but the pain mixes with the vast pleasures of this mile-high lovemaking.

I pull his forehead to mine and we hold each other while the stormy pinnacle shakes us both.  His flesh throbs warm inside me and we both pant and sway and catch our breath, laughing with delight.  He reaches up and traces his fingers along my chin and jaw.  Then he gently kisses me as he slowly withdraws.  I long for a bed so we can hold each other and never let go.  Ever.

My heart races and I experience something I’ve never felt during sex.  Deep emotions, strong feelings, and a true connection.  It isn’t just a physical act, but the melding of our souls.  We’re one in every sense of the word.

Is this what love feels like?

I want to cry.

“Holy shit,” he says as he catches his breath.  “You’re amazing.”

I laugh because I’m thinking the exact same thing.  “You too.  That was phenomenal.”

He kisses me softly, nipping at my bottom lip.  “You were worth the wait, Vanessa.”

I don’t want to tell him how long it’s been since I’ve had sex, mainly because for the first time in my life, I’ve just made love.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” I say.

“Thanks for giving me a chance.”

He refastens the front hook of my bra and I zip and button his jeans.  We laugh and bump into each other in the small confines, checking to see if all of our clothes are back on before leaving the room.

“Think anyone needed to use the bathroom?” I ask.

“They were in for quite a wait.”  He stretches toward me for another sexy, languorous kiss.  “We have to stop, or else we’ll never leave this room and they’ll have to call the TSA.”