Page 3 of Release (Symbols of Love 3)

She brings her finger to her mouth and licks it with the very tip of her pink tongue and then turns the page of her magazine, her eyes never leaving it.

I glance down at it, wondering what’s got her attention so rapt. It’s some sort of techie magazine. The headline on the page she’s reading says, Changing Definitions of Privacy in the Digital Age. It's not exactly leisurely plane ride reading.

“It’s rude to stare. It’s also rude to read over people’s shoulders.” She says in a neutral tone.

“I’m sure it is.” I say as neutrally, lifting my eyes from her magazine to her face. She’s not reading anymore. Her eyes are assessing as they roam my face, my chest and linger on the dark wet spot on my jeans. Her lips are pursed in a frown of concentration. When she looks back at my face, her expression is amused and interested.

“Do you have another change of pants? Those must feel pretty uncomfortable.” She says, her voice is low, and she’s looking up at me through her lashes.

I’m not always quick on the uptake when it comes to women and dating. My brother, Louis has accused me of being clueless. But, even I can hear the suggestion in her voice when she puts her hand on my thigh and I stiffen immediately. Her fingertips are resting right at the edge of the wet spot. My heart skips a beat and then races as my mind races to figure out what the hell is going on.

The water has seeped through the thin fabric of my jeans and briefs and I can feel the cold wet on my skin. But, what my body responds to is the heat her hand is generating. I shift my leg enough to create some distance between her hand and my stirring cock. She may be coming onto me, but I’m not in the habit of getting hard and flaunting my erections in public.

I look back at her face to find her watching me closely. A small smile plays around her lips. I’m just about to ask her what she’s doing when her smile disappears.

She yanks her hand back, and turns her eyes back to her magazine. Before I have time to be confused, Tina’s standing next to our aisle again.

“Here you go sir,” she says cheerily as she hands me a thick stack of tiny cocktail napkins. But, I’ve forgotten why I need them.

“Here you go, miss.” She says as she reaches across me to give my neighbor her drink. “Let me get those out of the way for you.” She gestures to the stack of cups on her tray. My neighbor gives her a friendly smile as she accepts the drink. She takes a huge sip before she puts it down.

“If you need anything else, please press the call button. Otherwise, enjoy the remainder of your flight.” Tina’s bright voice says before she continues up the aisle.

I look to my left again to see her throwing back the rest of her drink. I can smell the vodka and remember the stack of cups. If all of those were alcoholic beverages, then she’s probably drunk by now.

She lets her empty cup fall to the ground, closes her magazine, and tucks her seat tray away. She reaches up to turn off the overhead light and the last thing I see before we’re plunged back into darkness is that suggestive smile. My eyes adjust to the dark quickly and I see her silhouette as she leans forward to reach underneath her seat.

When she sits up, she’s holding a dark blanket in her hand. I watch her curiously as she unfolds it and then shakes it open, over both of our legs.

“That’ll help you keep warm.” She says amiably, a smile in her voice.

I start to push it off my lap and stand, “I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I think…” She grabs my hand to stop me. I stare down at her, unable to make out the expression on her face.

“Let me help you dry off.” She whispers and takes the napkin from me. Slowly, I sit back down. She throws the blanket back over my lap. And I sit, frozen, half by disbelief and half by curiosity as her hand disappears under it and moves across my lap. I hiss at the sharp jolt of pleasure that shoots through me when she palms my cock.

My head flies backward into the head rest, my eyes closed, “Oh shit. What are you doing?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“I’m going to help you dry off,” she whispers. She hiccups just as I feel her hand cupping my balls through my jeans. She gives them a gentle squeeze and to my horror, I groan. Loudly.

She giggles, but her hand stops moving. My eyes fly open and I look down to see her watching me. Her lips are smiling patiently and her eyes wide with mock innocence and she asks, “Do you want me to stop?” I blink down at her. I should want her to stop.

I’ve never done anything like this, never even considered it until I laid eyes on her.

I don’t know anything about this woman. She could be married and she can’t be sure that I’m not. She’s obviously drunk, and doesn’t know what she’s doing. All of that aside, I’m pretty sure that letting her jack me off on a plane is illegal or something.

But God, her touch feels so fucking good. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten off with anything other than my hand. My hips jut forward, my cock rubbing against her hand I groan again, low in my chest and she puts a finger to her lips and winks as she slides her hand down to cup my balls again.

“We don’t want to get caught,” she whispers. Her eyebrows are raised, her lips are smiling and slightly parted. She squeezes me again, I try to stifle my groan.

“Oh, yeah, we’re going to need to get you out of those pants,” she snickers as her fingers unsnap my jeans and slowly pulls the zipper.

; My cock, apparently desperate for escape, strains against my wet briefs.

“Oh, you’re ready,” she croons as she tugs the elastic band of my underwear down and then her hand closes around the exposed skin of my cock.

A trickle of sweat runs down my back and I realize how much effort I’m exerting trying to hold back the loud groan I want to let loose. The pad of her thumb traces the slit of my cock and I hiss at the shimmer of heat that radiates from the caress. My balls tighten and my hips give an involuntary jerk, pushing more of my length into her hand.