Read Hooked Up: Book 2 for Free Online Page B

you a member of the Mile High Club?” Alexandre suddenly asked.
    I rolled my eyes. “That is such a cliché.”
    Secretly, though, I had always wondered what it would be like to make love thousands of feet in the air. Probably uncomfortable—didn’t people always do it in the bathroom?
    “In all seriousness, Pearl, are you a member of the Mile High Club?”
    “No.”
    “Me neither. Should we join?”
    “The membership comes at a price.”
    “I can afford it.”
    I give him a lopsided smile. “Maybe you can, but me? I’m not so sure.”
    “What kind of price are we talking about?”
    “The price of discomfort.”
    He laughed. “Oh, you assume we’d have to do it in the toilet?”
    “Well, yes, isn’t that par for the course?”
    “No, it certainly is not. There’s no way I’m scrunching myself up double in some toilet,” he exclaimed with a look of mock outrage, smoothing his tailored suit pants with his hands.
    “Well, where then?”
    “Right here, baby. Right here, on these luxuriously comfortable seats. They’ve been very thoughtful—even made them of leather for us—easy to wipe down,” and he mumbled in my ear, “because I know how wet you get.” He slipped his hand higher up my thigh.
    “Shush, stop that dirty talk! The politician will wake up. Or the flight attendant will see us.”
    “No, he’s out for the count, I doubt very much he’ll stir for several hours. And the flight attendant, well I’m sure she’ll make herself invisible. The staff aren’t meant to hang about with the VIPs in private jets, unless they’re needed.”
    “Are we Very Important People?”
    He laughed. “Hell, yes.”
    “You’re just kidding,” I said, “about doing it in public.”
    “Don’t be so sure. Haven’t you ever had sex in public before?”
    “No, I certainly have not. You?”
    He templed his fingers and brought them up to his face as if in great thought. “Let’s see. On a beach in the Bahamas once, on a yacht, in a swimming pool, on a ski slope just off piste , in the Bois de Vincennes, in a—”
    “Okay, I think I’ve heard enough. I get the picture.” I was in a jealous sulk for a second, furious at the ex-girlfriend(s) who had dared to be so brave with him in all those places, but then, I asked, “By the way, where’s the Bois de Vincennes?”
    “It’s a huge park in Paris, on the eastern side. The lungs of the city.”
    I said nothing. Back to my silent, jealous ravings.
    “You’re beautiful, Pearl, especially when you’re green-eyed.”
    An unwanted smile stole itself across my face. How did he know? I pummeled him, my mock angry fists coming up against his hard abs.
    “I’ve never done it on a plane though,” he told me. “Promise.”
    “No. Forget it, Alexandre. I won’t be part of one of your lists . Crossed off as something ‘ done .’ ” I stuck my tongue out at him like a seven year-old.
    He laughed again. “Touched a nerve, have I?”
    “You’ve touched several nerves, actually. Did you know that,”—and I lowered my voice to a murmur—“the clitoris has over eight thousand nerve endings?” I squeezed my thighs tightly together so he couldn’t get his hand any farther. “Not here, Alexandre. Stop it.”
    “Well you are a mine of information—Madonna, Beyoncé, now this. No, I had no idea, but it does make sense. I’ll remember,” he whispered in my ear, “all those sensitive little nerve endings when I’ve got my tongue up there.” He was trying to force my legs apart and, although I desired his hands all over me, I crossed my legs rigid and clenched my thighs super-tight like closed scissors.
    He nibbled my lobe and a frisson ran down my spine. “Careful now, we know what happens when you do that, sexy girl, when you cross your legs too tight. Especially with no panties on.”
    It was true. The pressure was turning me on, and I squirmed in my seat, even though I had my seatbelt on. He eased his hands underneath me, cupping both his