Page 17 of Tangled

“You’re just going to try to weasel—Hey!”

Yes, speaking of weasels. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re not taking this seriously!”

“I can’t control it. You’re rubbing against me, and this sort of thing is bound to happen in close quarters.”

“Just concentrate on what we’re talking about.”

The damned thing had snaked upward and was now at full staff, a thick, hard rod in his pants pressed against her stomach.“I’m trying.”

Colleen shuffled sideways, an exquisitely torturous rub through his clothes. He managed not to groan, but his eyes rolled up a little bit.

She hooked a finger through one of his belt loops and dragged him along with her. He didn’t lift his feet as he bobbled sideways but did move several inches until he was again wedged between the wall and her delicious body. The edge of the counter must be digging into her ass, and a sudden vision of picking her up and sitting her on the counter crossed his mind as he figured out that their respective sexual organs would be lined up perfectly if he did that.

Her arm shot out past him, smacking the middle of the folding door and slamming it shut. “Lock it.”

Tristan bent his arm backward but couldn’t reach the lock behind his shoulder. “I can’t. At least the door’s closed.”

“Jesus, I can barely breathe.”

“They’re going to find us dead in here, suffocated, and they’ll assume it must have been murderstagedto look like death by misadventure because we’re fully clothed.”

She chuckled, and the puff of her breath warmed his shirt over his heart. “They’ll accuse Jian because he’s the only other one on the plane.”

“Well, we can’t have that, so we’d better get this over with quickly.”

“Yes. Please.How many and who?”

“I thought we’d already gotten the sexual history talk out of the way,” he quipped.

“Seriously!”

Tristan sighed with what little air he had in his lungs. “It’s complicated.”

“Dammit! That’s it!I’m getting a straight answer out of you one way or another.”

“But itiscomplicated,” Tristan protested, running his hand through his hair.

Underneath his chin, Colleen’s silken brown hair and scalp descended.

Tristan sucked in a deep breath when she’d moved down to the point where he was no longer going to crush her by doing so. “What are you doing?”

As she dropped, his belt unbuckled, and the waistband of his pants loosened.“Hey!”

Her knees drove into his shins, and he spread his legs wide.

Colleen fell to her knees with her legs tucked between his brown loafers, the not-Versace ones.

Due to the tight quarters, he could see her brown hair and pale scalp as her forehead pressed against his navel, but no lower.

His boxer-briefs were shoved down, and the cotton gripped underneath his balls. The cooler air in the bathroom and Colleen’s breath fanned his steel-hard dick.

Tristan bowed his chest inward, hunching his spine, trying to get a better look at what was going on down there.

Colleen’s pink tongue emerged from her mouth and was visible as she licked the length of his cock, over his engorged veins on the shaft, and circled the purple head.

The warm, wet friction registered in every cell of his body. Tristan threw his head back and whacked it on the wall so hard he saw stars, groaning,“Oh, princess.”