Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  I groan as I lift a hand to her jaw and tilt her face. Her lips part and I feel her breath mingle with mine before I slowly lick along her upper lip. Her tongue tentatively meets mine. I slide mine along hers coaxing her to open her mouth more to me. As she does, the need in our kiss grows. We become frantic as our tongues war for control of the kiss.

  My other hand slides along her thigh. I rest it just inches from where I want to touch. My thumb slowly makes circles on the inside of her leg and she moans against my lips as her hands fly to my chest.

  I want to take this further. I haven’t wanted a woman this badly in so long that I feel like a man in the desert that just found a lake. I’m beyond rational thought as my fingers creep under the hem of her ridiculously short skirt, the same one I’ve been staring at since we got stuck in this bathroom.

  Earlier, I caught a glimpse of her pink underwear, and right now, I want to push it aside and feel how wet she is for me.

  “Don’t stop,” she urges.

  She doesn’t need to ask me again as I slowly run my fingers up until I feel the wetness on her panties.

  “Fuck,” I murmur. “You’re soaking wet.” I push her panties to the side and slide one finger down her drenched slit. She trembles under my touch, spreading her thighs as I sink one finger inside her.

  “Oh, God!” she cries out as she parts her legs more. Her skirt rides up and I break our kiss to look down at the absolute fucking masterpiece that is my finger fucking her pretty pussy.

  “You are so fucking hot, Molly. You don’t need a stranger on a plane. You could have any man you want,” I whisper as I kiss along her jawline.

  “What if I want you?” she asks as she moves to straddle me.

  “You can have me anytime,” I assure her as we start kissing again. And I mean what I say. We’ve only spent a few hours together and made out for five minutes and she’s already ten times better than all my past girlfriends combined.

  Molly

  Dearest God, I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thank you. That’s basically all that’s running through my head right now as Blake kisses me while his finger slides in and out of my sex. He feels so good. I never want him to stop.

  “Why did we wait three hours to do this?” I say against his lips.

  “Because we’re idiots,” he retorts.

  I giggle as my right hand slides down his abdomen to his impressive erection. He feels as good as I thought he would. He groans as I grasp him through his dress pants. How did I find the perfect man in a bathroom? He’s hot as fuck. He’s clearly a go-getter, albeit an endearingly clueless one. He’s smart. He’s funny. He loves his family.

  I feel like an idiot for even thinking about hooking up with a groomsman on the flight. But I don’t have any regrets about my current make-out session with Blake.

  I unzip his pants and reach inside, finding the slit in his boxer briefs, I wrap my hand around his length. I mirror his pace inside me with my motions.

  “Fuck,” he curses. As I grip his cock harder, he moans against my lips.

  His finger curls forward inside me and the spot he finds takes me to a whole new level of need. I shamelessly grind against his hand as his palm gives me the perfect amount of friction.

  “Who would have thought I’d be making out in a loo?” I whisper.

  “A what?” he laughs.

  “Loo. You know, British slang for a bathroom,” I explain, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.

  He chuckles again. “Loo. Bathroom. Restroom. Baño. You can call it whatever you like, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Grinning, I lean forward again to kiss him. I’m so damn close to coming. I move harder against him, seeking my release. I feel him thrusting faster against my hand. We’re both chasing the high.

  He flicks his thumb against me and that propels me over the edge into ecstasy. My whole body shakes as I ride out the wave of pleasure. I barely register that he’s coming too as I lean my head on his shoulder. I don’t even miss a beat once I get my awareness back. I reach over to my bag and hand him a Kleenex. He wipes himself clean and I grab one for me.

  I’m still straddling him and our lips are still pressed together.

  “That was…” I trail off as words fail me.

  He opens his mouth to speak when the door goes flying open.

  We both sail to the floor, toppling over with the sudden movement.

  “Ouch,” Blake says as his head hits the tile of the airport floor.

  “Oh my God! Are you OK?” a woman asks.

  I look up and scramble off Blake, pushing my skirt down. I notice him quickly pull his zipper up as he rises and turns to face what is clearly one of the airport cleaning staff.

  “Thank goodness,” he says. “We’ve been stuck in here for three hours.”

  “Four,” I correct. “Well, three and a half.”

  “Oh my. I had placed a sign on the door earlier when I cleaned it. The lock is broken,” the woman says. “You’re lucky I was here to clean it again. I almost didn’t come because we’re waiting on maintenance to fix the lock. But I thought I’d come clean it once more, so I didn’t have to after they fixed it.” She glances at her watch. “Maintenance should be here at any moment.”

  She looks around and grabs a piece of paper on the floor. The one I stepped over earlier.

  Holding it up, we both read the message. “Out of order.”

  We glance at each other and start laughing.

  I grab my bag and Blake grabs his. “Passenger Molly Dooley, please report to gate six.”

  I look at him with wide eyes. “Uh, I better go.”

  “Wait. Let me get your number,” he says.

  “You know my name. Just look me up,” I say. “I gotta go. Good luck with your meeting.”

  I take off toward gate six. Time to get my wedding weekend underway. Halfway to the gate, I realize I’m an idiot and should just give Blake my number. I turn to call out after him, but he’s gone. I frown and look around for him, yet he’s nowhere to be found.

  “Damn,” I mutter. I make a pledge to find him online after the wedding. My phone pings with incoming texts as I reach the counter of the gate.

  Ashley: Where are you?

  Me: Sorry, got locked in an airport bathroom. Long story. Gonna catch the next flight, hopefully.

  Ashley: Bummer. No “mile high club,” then.

  Me: Don’t worry. I had something better.

  Epilogue

  Blake

  “Flight three thirty-seven is now boarding,” a woman says over the intercom.

  It’s been a long seventy-two hours, but thanks to Molly, my presentation was amazing. I lucked out and got my meeting rescheduled for the next day. And now, I’m heading back home. I haven’t had a chance to look Molly up online yet. After the meeting, the executives wanted to go to play golf and talk more. And this morning, I had a second brunch meeting.

  But right now, I’m thinking about her as I stare at a bathroom entrance. I grin like a fool just remembering the afternoon we spent in there. Sighing, I grab my bag. I’m flying back in style, first class. I’ve earned it. And I can most definitely afford it now.

  I’m debating how to tell my boss that I’ll be resigning at the end of the month. And the best part is, I don’t even have to move. The company wants me to work out of their Atlanta offices.

  I replay everything from the last three days in my head as I take my seat and stare out the window. I don’t know how my life got so turned around in just a few days, but if I can just find Molly, then it’ll be damn near perfect.

  I had wanted to run after her when she left. I started to, but my phone began ringing. When I looked down, I realized it was the company calling me and I had two percent battery left. So, I made a beeline for the nearest charging station. Good thing I did, because that call got my meeting rescheduled.

  I swear I smell Molly as I look out at the men driving a load of baggage to the plane. I close my eyes and br
eathe in deeply, a smile forming on my lips.

  Molly

  I need to find Blake as soon as I get home. Thank God that I got locked in that bathroom because Jay and Oliver were not exactly worthy of breaking my “mile high club” cherry. Jay turned out to be a total jerk. And Oliver was a stage-five clinger. I quickly made up a pretend boyfriend within five minutes of meeting them both. Why Ashley thought either would work out is beyond me.

  Ashley is the only one that knows about my bathroom boyfriend. She just keeps referring to him as “Lou” because of where we met. Did I mention that Ashley was born in England? Yeah, that’s where I learned about the “loo.”

  So, now it’s our private inside joke. But I don’t want Blake to be a joke, I want him to be the real deal. Or at least, I hope he could be.

  I decided to rebook my flight back through Miami because I wanted to drive up the Florida Keys. I’d never done that before and everyone at the wedding kept talking about how beautiful they are. Ashley’s cousin was leaving from here, so I bummed a ride with her this morning, while everyone else was sobering up from last night’s reception. I could have stayed another day, but I wanted to get back home, and I was not about to fly back with Jay. Or shall I call him the bridesmaid groper? Yeah, he was definitely not my type.

  I wait in line this time, not wanting to venture to the family bathroom in the off chance the lock is broken on the one here as well. I board the plane and realize I’ve been upgraded to first class. Grinning, I place my bag in the overhead compartment and turn to take my seat. I freeze.

  “Blake?” I say.

  “Can you move, please?” a woman behind me mutters.

  “Oh, sorry,” I reply as I take my seat, just as Blake turns toward me. His eyes are like saucers.

  “Molly?” he says, blinking a few times.

  “Oh my God!” I squeal and reach over to hug him.

  His arms come up around me and after a second he presses me firmly against him and buries his nose in my hair. “I thought I smelled you.”

  I blush. “You smelled me?” I ask in a low voice.

  He pulls back and grins at me. “Your perfume or maybe it’s your shampoo,” he explains.

  “Oh.

  “I was going to look you up when I got home,” I admit. “I turned around to exchange numbers, but you were gone.”

  “I had to charge my phone,” he says, pointing to it. He looks into my eyes. “I was going to look you up too.”

  I smile at him. I can’t stop smiling at him. I haven’t been this happy to see someone in…maybe ever.

  I put on my seatbelt as the flight attendants begin their safety talk.

  Leaning over, Blake whispers in my ear, “I’ve always wanted to join the ‘mile high club.’”

  I nearly choke on the water I just took a sip of a moment ago.

  “Don’t die on me. I still need to make love to you,” he murmurs in my ear. “First, in that bathroom, right there.” He motions to the lavatory in front of us. “And then again in my bed when we get home.”

  “A bit presumptuous, don’t you think?” I ask with a smirk.

  “Well, you did agree to make out with me last time we hung out, so I’m guessing my odds are pretty good.”

  I lean forward and gaze into his eyes. Fuck, I’ve missed those blue eyes.

  “How’d the meeting go?” I ask.

  “Good. Don’t change the topic.”

  Grinning, I kiss his cheek. “I’d say your odds are more than pretty good.”

  He grins back at me as we settle into our seats, our hands intertwined. Who knows where this will go, but I know for sure that I will never forget where it began.

  Stay Connected

  Learn more about upcoming books from S.E. Rose at www.seroseauthor.com or follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

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  About the Author

  USA Today & international bestselling romance author S.E. Rose lives near Washington, D.C., with her family. When she's not wrangling her cats or keeping up with her kids, she's plotting her next story.

  She loves all things wine, coffee, and cats. In her non-existent free time, she enjoys traveling, going to concerts, binging on her favorite shows, and reading, especially if it's a good mystery or comedy.

  Also by S.E. Rose

  Deceitful Destiny Series

  Island (Book 1)

  Secrets (Book 2)

  Bravura (Book 3)

  Determination (Book 4)

  Home (Book 5)

  * * *

  The Poisoned Pawn World

  A Fierce Princess

  A Valiant Prince

  A Wise Prince

  * * *

  Perfectly Imperfect Love Series

  Undeniably Perfect

  Hopelessly Perfect

  Romantically Perfect

  Awkwardly Perfect

  Reluctantly Perfect – Coming in 2021

  * * *

  Novels

  Chronicles of a Hot Mess

  Chronicles of a Rockin’ Mess

  The Decoy

  Second Start (A Holiday Springs Resort Novel)

  Endeavor (A Drive World Novel) - Coming in March 2021

  * * *

  Novellas

  Neighbor in Apartment No. 5

  The Tinsel Tango

  The Fighter

  * * *

  Want to learn more? Visit www.seroseauthor.com.

  Arrow & Salem

  Saffron A. Kent

  1

  Salem

  “You can’t go.”

  The voice echoes around my room as if the person that it belongs to – one of my best friends from high school, Callie Thorne – is here with me, in my bedroom, instead of peering at me through the computer screen.

  I stop what I’m doing, which is super boring and not like me at all – picking out an outfit for my lunch date. My bed is covered in heaps and heaps of clothes and I have no idea what I’m gonna wear.

  Usually, I would just throw on my cargo pants and a t-shirt for such things.

  Well, okay. So sometimes I’ll also wear tiny skirts and cute tops but that’s only for very, very special occasions and for a very, very, very special someone.

  That being said, this is a special occasion too.

  One I don’t think I’ll get to experience a lot in my life, so I need to look good.

  First though, I need to deal with my friend. I look up from a dress that I bought like months ago but never really wore; the computer is sitting on my nightstand and Callie has a fierce frown on her sweet, angelic face.

  “I have to,” I tell her.

  “You’re insane.”

  “That’s nothing new.” I raise my eyebrows. “But I’m going.”

  She stares at me with her round blue eyes, which I’m realizing can be very scary and stern when she wants them to be.

  Then she sighs and purses her lips. “What do you think he’d say if he found out?”

  My heart jumps. “Nothing. He’d say nothing.”

  “Really? Your fiancé would say nothing about what you’re going to do. A week before the wedding. A week, Salem. Before your wedding.”

  I’m about to respond to her but Callie sits up on her bed – she’s been lounging all this time – and gets really close to the camera as if by doing that she can see me even more clearly.

  “Oh my God, is that what this is about? The wedding? Is it finally happening? Are you finally losing your mind over it? Because I have to say you’ve been very calm about the whole thing. Like, eerily calm. Brides aren’t supposed to be this calm, Salem. This is the freak-out time for everybody and you have not thrown one tantrum. For someone as dramatic as you, that’s cause for concern.”

  Well, I can’t argue with her logic.

  I haven’t thrown one tantrum and
I’m known to be pretty dramatic.

  But I think the reason I haven’t thrown any tantrums or had any bridal meltdowns about the wedding is because I don’t really care about the wedding.

  I only care about him.

  The guy I’m marrying. The love of my life. My sun.

  The one they call The Blond Arrow, one of the best pro soccer players in the country, the star of his team the LA Galaxy.

  Arrow Carlisle.

  My fiancé.

  He’s been my fiancé for about six months now – ever since he popped the question after his championship game last year – and I never ever miss a chance to call him that. Maybe because I never even thought that I’d get to call him my boyfriend, let alone my fiancé. And the road to calling him either of those things has not been easy.

  It involved a lot of heartache, a lot of longing, a lot of tears and pining and unrequited love since the age of ten.

  Yeah, so pretty much half my life.

  Obviously I don’t care about the wedding. I don’t care about the flowers or the music or what kind of cake we’re gonna eat. Or even my dress.

  I’m marrying the fucking love of my life.

  Who cares if my veil is slightly tilted or if there isn’t enough booze for the guests?

  Who cares about a perfect wedding when you’re marrying your perfect?

  Although I wish everyone agreed with this logic.

  Callie has been freaking out about it ever since I told her that there is going to be a wedding, and she’s not the only one. My other two best friends from high school, Bronwyn and Poe, have been freaking out about it too.