The Ending I Want

And then he goes and shows me that beautiful smile again, sending my body into overdrive.

He moves forward, leaning over me—I’m guessing to open the window shutter—and I don’t know what comes over me.

Maybe it’s because he smells like heaven with his rich cologne and something totally masculine. Or because I haven’t stopped thinking about sex since he sat next to me—well, actually, I was thinking about sex a fair bit before that also. Or maybe it’s because his delicious, kissable lips are so close to mine. Or because he’s just that hot.

But I kiss him.

I totally plant my lips on his, and I kiss him.

Guess my sex hormones got the better of me. Because I’m kissing a stranger.

Holy fuck! I’m kissing a stranger! What the hell am I doing?

When I wrote Kiss a stranger on my list, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Said stranger kind of had to want to kiss me, too. Not just have me plant my lips on his without his permission.

Oh God, I’ve just kiss-assaulted him. I’m so going to jail.

Abort mission! Abort mission!

But, oh my God, his lips feel so good and firm, like a man’s should, but plump enough that I want to bite them…and he just tastes so phenomenally good. Like cinnamon and coffee and just something uniquely him.

I can’t seem to part myself from him.

So, we’re here, my lips stuck on his, and he’s frozen in place.

All in all, this has probably lasted seconds, but it feels like hours.

Hours of his delicious lips against mine. God, wouldn’t that be something?

This moment is so going in the spank bank. Even if it proves to be the most embarrassing thing I have ever done, I don’t care. I’m totally revisiting it in my head later when I’m alone.

Okay, Taylor, time to move your lips off the nice, hot stranger.

I’m just readying to pull away when the craziest thing happens. English Hottie moves his mouth. His lips part on a whisper of a moan, and he starts to kiss me back.

Holy shit.

His hand touches my face. His fingers push back into my hair, getting all tangled up in it, and then he tips my head back and starts to kiss me. I mean, really kiss me.

Now, I’m the frozen one.

What do I do?

Kiss him back, you idiot! You have the hottest guy you’ve ever seen with his tongue in your mouth—oh God, his tongue is in my mouth…

My hand finds its way to that awesome chest of his, my fingers curling into his shirt. His chest is as hard as I thought it would be. I can feel the ridges of muscle beneath my palm.

Needing to feel more of him, I slide my other hand up his chest, feeling those awesome muscles, and over to his shoulder. I curl my hand around the back of his neck.

He groans in my mouth, and it’s the sexiest sound I have ever heard.

Then, he starts to kiss me harder, like he’s hungry and I’m the food source.

Jesus Christ. This is the hottest kiss of my life.

English Hottie’s other hand comes around my waist. He unclips my seat belt without even looking, and he tugs me closer.

Of course, I go willingly.

His hand moves from my waist and lands on my thigh. He lifts my leg, putting it over his, and then he slides his hand up my leg. High.

Oh my God!

I feel close to combustion. And my vagina is getting ready to start a party all on her own.

God, this guy is good. If he can do this while we’re both fully clothed, then I wonder what he could do if he had me naked in bed.

And, right now, I wouldn’t be opposed to that.

Do they have beds on airplanes?

Then, the moment is suddenly broken when the intercom announcement comes on with the captain telling us there’s a slight delay while we wait for another plane to take off before ours.

Our mouths part. Both of us are breathing heavy, staring into each other’s eyes.

God, his eyes are amazing, really unique—a mixture of green and hazel, like a greenish gold. They remind me of autumn when the leaves are turning from green to brown.

Autumn just officially became my favorite season.

I can’t remember ever feeling as turned on as I do right now.

The instant my lips connected with his, my body felt like it was doused with gasoline, and a match was struck between my legs.

And I don’t think I’m alone in this. I can see the heated glare of lust in his stunning eyes.

Then, the realization of what I just did hits me.

I just mauled a complete stranger with my mouth. Oh my God!

I don’t know whether to laugh maniacally or crawl under my seat in embarrassment.

Yanking my gaze and my leg from him, I turn in my seat and stare at the window, which I can’t see out of because the shutter is still closed.

He never did get to open it because I stopped him with my kiss-crazy mouth.

I quickly slide the shutter open and stare out at the open airfield.

I can’t believe I just did that. I kissed him. Holy shit!

I kissed a total stranger. A hot stranger but a stranger nonetheless.

Guess I can cross that one off my list.

A bubble of laughter climbs up my throat, but I manage to hold it in.

Really not the time to laugh, Taylor.

You just kissed the guy. You don’t want him to think you’re crazy.

He already thinks you’re crazy. You just kiss-attacked him, moron!

And kissing a stranger who I have to sit next to for the next six hours probably wasn’t the best idea.

Nice going, Taylor.

Oh, shit! What if he’s married? I could have just violated a sacred bond. Forced the guy to cheat.

Turning my face a little, I surreptitiously check out his left hand, which is resting on his thigh—he has really nice thighs—and there’s no ring.