The Mix-Up (Southern Hearts Club #3) - Melanie Munton Page 0,41

be heard even over the whooping blades overhead.

I push my underwear aside and run my finger over my swollen opening. His Adam’s apple bobs, a tantalizing sign of his hunger. I know my slit is shiny with arousal because I can feel how wet I’ve become. Can feel how soaked playing with myself in front of him—for him—has gotten me.

His tongue drags across his lower lip as he watches my finger.

God, I love that.

Love that his mouth is watering at the mere sight of me. That he’s been reduced to a near-drooling state. Like he wants to replace my finger with his tongue, my hand with his face. Is he wondering how I taste? What my triggers are?

Using my free hand, I type out a text and send it.

Me: See something you like?

His screen lights up with my incoming text, but he doesn’t immediately check it. He acts loathe to even blink, like he’s afraid he’ll miss something. After several moments, he reluctantly moves his gaze to the device.

Ryder: I’m two seconds away from burying my face in that and making out so hard with your clit.

I almost come on the spot.

I glance behind me to make sure that West can’t see anything I’m doing. But nothing is visible below my shoulders through the opened partition. Even if he wasn’t completely focused on the controls in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to see my splayed thighs.

When I face Ryder again, his mouth has pulled into a wolfish grin.

He knows he’s got me.

Whatever. I’ll let him think as much. Because while I might be the one giving him a show, he won’t be winning this round. He thinks he’s got leverage now, but that’ll all change by the time I’m done with him. And short of West crashing this bird into a field, nothing could stop me now.

Ryder’s eyes flick down to my hand and back up. He doesn’t need a text for his message to come through loud and clear.

Get back to work, duchess.

Dropping my head back against the seat, I give myself over to the wicked act. He spreads his own legs wider, surely to accommodate the growing bulge between them. His mouth is parted, sweat dotting his upper lip, as his hand scrubs over his chin.

Ryder: You like it when I watch?

Nerves too frayed to reply, I simply nod.

Ryder: This is the image I’ll be fucking my own hand to in my office later. I’ll be jerking off while you’re filling out expense reports.

His desperation stretches across the cabin and touches me like a caress. I put pressure on my throbbing bundle of nerves, careening closer to ecstasy, as my hips unconsciously undulate. Through my headset, I hear his breath hitch. My fingers work faster, circling, seeking.

Ryder: I see how close you are. You need my tongue. Let me lick you.

Before I can fully prepare myself for lift off, my feet are no longer touching the earth. I’m picked up by a cyclone like Dorothy, weightlessly trapped in a never-ending spiral. Somehow, through the disorienting haze, I manage to push my mouthpiece away before West hears my ribald panting over the line.

Ryder: You better soak those fingers, duchess. You won’t let my fingers or mouth get in there? Fine. Then fuck your pussy like I did the other night.

The phone slips from my fingers as those words drop me smack dab in the middle of Oz, where I merrily skip down the yellow brick road to meet the man behind the curtain.

Helloooo, Mr. Wizard.

By the time my breathing slows and my legs have stopped trembling from sensation overload, Ryder looks a tormented mess. He adjusts himself in his pants, wincing in pain. As if he can’t help himself, he drags his palm up and down.

Over and over.

Again and again.

Never looking away from my fingers.

Is he going to treat me to the same show? I bite my lip in excitement. Even though he brought this on himself by sexting in the first place, I don’t like the idea of causing him pain. In fact, I feel a sense of pride at being able to relieve his ache. Of possessing the key to unlocking his fulfillment.

That erection belongs to me.

I’ll be damned if I let some other woman accept the plaque with my name on it and take all the credit for my work.

Nope. If I get him hung, I’m the only one who’s reaping the rewards.

But I don’t get the chance. His phone rings as we’re making