I raise my glass and clink with Francesca after we settle into our first-class seats. We're finally off to Barcelona, and Francesca has been giddy all week. I love seeing her like this. She sips her champagne and smiles widely at me. "I can't believe this is my first time on a plane and I'm already in first class- this is brilliant!" she squeaks.
"I want us to have the best time possible," I tell her, taking another sip. She squirms and looks down, a little uncomfortable. "What's wrong, babe?" She's quiet.
Good lord.
"Francesca, talk to me."
She swallows. "It's weird for me. Having you pay for all of this- I feel like... I'm being bought. And it feels like a trick." She looks down at her feet and twists her fingers together.
"A trick? What do you mean?" I ask, taking her hands in mine. I have to take advantage of these rare moments of total honesty from her.
She still won't look at me, "Like, I'll get used to this, then it'll all be taken away and I'll have the rug pulled out from under me." I am about to interject, but she pushes forward, the floodgates opening, "Rose says that I need to just enjoy the moment as it is. She keeps telling me that I need to learn to be grateful for the positive experiences I have instead of being angry they are gone, and I'm trying but it just freaks me out. I don't want to have to build myself back up again," the words tumble out.
I take a minute to process what she's said.
Angry they're gone?
"Babe, do you think I'm tricking you?" I can't hide the hurt in my voice.
Her thumbs gently slide along my knuckles. "I mean... no. When I think about
you
, I don't feel nervous. But when the money gets involved, my life shifts so dramatically. I go from being proud of the carefully curated one I've worked so hard to develop to realizing how sad that life is. And I hate thinking about going back to it. It's easier not to accept any improvement than to worry about losing it."
I take my hands away in frustration, running them through my hair. "Isn't that a concern for any relationship? I really thought we were past this," I say quietly.
"I'm trying," she murmurs. I don't want to look at her. I feel like she's literally planning to leave me- like it's an inevitability.
"I thought you were working on accepting who I am?" I say, completely exasperated.
"I am. I mean, I'm here, aren't I?" she says with a hint of malice in her voice. I glare at her.
"I don't understand- if you are going to eventually leave, like you're implying, why do you keep stringing me along?" I ask her, my tone matching hers.
"There is nothing wrong with keeping my guard up- that doesn't mean I'm going to leave," she says, backing down a little.
"But, it's like you're certain that this will end, so then you might as well leave! What's the point in waiting around for the inevitable?" I snap at her.
Now she looks hurt. "How am I wrong for being afraid to lose the best thing in my life? I have to protect myself because I know what's coming. You've changed my life so much and I've done nothing for you, and you'll realize that sooner than later. Then you'll go on with your perfect life and I'll be left in the ashes of this one!" She's tearing up and turns toward the window, crossing her arms across her chest.
Shit. This is not how I wanted this vacation to start.
She's hurt, and I'm pissed because she keeps ignoring me when I tell her how much she means to me. We're silent for a while- I don't want to give in.
Why do I always have to make her feel better?
We ignore each other as the flight attendants do the safety presentation and the plane taxis. We start to take off and Francesca gasps and grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. Our eyes meet and she's still teary, but there is a new emotion on her face- fear.
Right, she's never flown before.
I squeeze her hand back. "It's alright baby, I'm here," I say instinctively. I pull the armrest up, slide closer and put my arm around her, and she relaxes. I let my feelings flow out of me. "I'm not going anywhere. What do I have to do to show you how much you bring to my life? I was lost before you- I could never go back to where I was," I tell her, kissing her hair.
She looks up at me, "Really?" her voice is quiet and desperate, and it absolutely slays me.
"How could you think you've done nothing for me? You're everything to me. My money has always been something that brings me shame, but now I have something I'm excited to use it for. This is the best I've felt about myself in years, because I can offer you something, bring joy to your life. And not just with the money, you make me feel like I'm worth something, because I can make you smile, or laugh, or relax, or...."
"Or cum?" I'm blabbering, but Francesca cuts me off, teasing me.
She's not wrong
.
I shake my head, and she stops chuckling. "I mean, kind of, yeah. That's where this all started, isn't it?" I smile mischievously at her and she laughs.
"I guess so," she agrees, and I kiss her swiftly. I pull away, but she chases me, and her hands find my hair. She deepens the kiss and I catch her face in my hands, enjoying the feeling of her lips against mine and her exploring tongue. I moan lightly- her smell is overtaking me, and I feel myself getting excited. I don't know how she does this to me- one minute I'm angry, the next I'm comforting her, and now I want her.
"You are so perfect," I murmur against her lips, "How could you be insecure?"
She pecks me again then presses her forehead against me. "You overwhelm me, Reggie- I'm totally out of my element. And my league," she breathes, her eyes flitting up and down over my body.
I sit back, shocked. "You're kidding me, right?" I ask, flabbergasted.
She must know she's sexy as hell.
"No, look at you! You're like the statue of David, and I'm just homely and normal," she looks down at her hands again.
I'm shocked. "You're insane. Guys literally fall all over you. You are strikingly beautiful- the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I grab her hands and kiss her knuckles.
"Don't be silly. I've been in Rose's shadow my entire life, Reggie," she rolls her eyes.
I look her up and down. "Rose is nothing compared to you. When you walk in a room, all eyes find you," I say before I nibble the pad of her pinky finger. Her face flushes, and she squeezes her thighs together. I raise an eyebrow at her and swirl my tongue around her finger. My eyes wander over her body. She's wearing a long, flowing skirt that cinches in tightly at her small waist and a pale pink crop top that complements her beautiful olive skin tone. A thin line of skin is exposed at her waist, and her tight stomach is on display in the sexiest way. "You want to?" I ask her lustfully.
She wants to, alright, she's giving me that look.
Her flush darkens, "I don't know..." she says nervously, but she's eyeing me lustfully.
I drop her hand and lean in, kissing her again before my lips trail her jaw and find their way to her neck. "Meet me in the lavatory," I breathe against her skin. I unbuckle my belt and walk to the toilets in the middle of the plane. I look back and see Francesca watching me, her eyes barely visible over the back of the chair. I smirk and slide into the small room.
We certainly have been living dangerously lately.
Within a minute, Francesca slides open the door and quickly closes it behind her. "This is crazy," she says quietly, but her eyes are blazing as she looks up at me, "I can't believe we're going to join the mile-high club!" I lean forward and bring my hand to her face to kiss her, but her face clouds suddenly.
"What's wrong? We don't have to," I whisper, trying to sound understanding, but it's hard to hide the disappointment in my voice. I really want to take her in this tiny space- it's so taboo and sexy.
"Umm... would you... have you already joined the club, or...?" she's so nervous, and I can't help but grin at her, "Oh, you have?" she responds to my smile with concern, and it is incredibly endearing and cute as hell. I chuckle. "Are you laughing at me?" she's clearly hurt, and it's even cuter.
"No baby, I haven't. There is just something about you- I can't keep my hands off you. No one else has ever made me this desperate or crazy," I finally kiss her again, and she melts into me. "Would you have been jealous if I had done this before?" I tease her, then let my lips find her neck, kissing and sucking as I go.
"Yes," she says through her already labored breath. Her fingers find my jean-clad cock and I groan quietly against her.
"I need yoouuuu, more than anyone darling, you know that I have from the staaart," I sing quietly to my buttercup, and I'm rewarded with her smile. I let my hands run over her tits and feel her nipples harden beneath the thin bralette she is wearing below her shirt. She moans loudly as I bite her neck, and I bring my lips back to hers to quiet her down.
"Quiet, baby, you've gotta stay quiet," I whisper, and her tongue invades my mouth again.
"You make me so hot," she breathes, and I find the tie on her skirt, tugging it and loosening the belt so it falls from her waist and pools at her feet. I try to slide down her panties but can't bend in the small space. She helps me by shimmying until they fall. I let my fingers dance over her lips before I slide one into her hot snatch. She is soaking wet and warm. I swirl my finger, and she bites her lip, trying to stay quiet. "I need you," she tells me as she reaches for my belt and pulls my trousers and pants down a little, releasing my rock-hard erection. I lift her and place her ass on the tiny sink. I'm about to slide into her hot snatch when the sink turns on and Francesca cries out. I quickly cover her mouth with my hand and pull her off the sink. I release her lips and we're both stifling a laugh. I grab a paper towel and dry her delightful tushy. "Thanks," she murmurs, a grin on her face.
