Page 7 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)

Which had been the main problem with Christiana.

She was too reserved and boring for him and considered his friends loud and obnoxious.

In LA, aside from the premiere and the party, the only things she’d wanted to do were visit museums and go to restaurants.

Every time he took her to a club, she complained about everything.

Worst of all, she didn’t even want to go shopping, which was one of Ren’s favorite activities.

She’d been a nightmare through and through and thank God he didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

Even if it had created a bit of a diplomatic mess for his father and brother to smooth over after Ren ditched her in the club, he was relieved to be out of the obligation.

“Sir, please put all handheld devices in airplane mode.”

Ren nodded at the flight attendant, changed the setting in his phone to the in-flight Wi-Fi, and switched to scrolling through his social media accounts while the safety talk flashed across the screen in front of him.

By the time they were airborne, Ren had satisfied himself that the photos of him and Maurice emerging from the club with their arms around each other and no sign of Christiana had been removed from his and his friends’ accounts.

It was still in the archives of gossip sites he was sure, but the story had died a quick death thanks to the crisis team.

It truly was a shame because that photo had been so hot.

He flipped to his camera roll and found the image one of the girls had sent him.

Their arms were around each other, and Maurice had dipped him backwards like they were in some swoony romance.

Damn, he and Maurice looked so good together.

Maurice had been wearing a Givenchy velvet bomber jacket open to reveal his tan and chiseled chest, along with black skinny jeans and a pair of Prada patent leather ankle boots, while Ren had been dressed head to toe in Armani with distressed jeans and a gorgeous vintage leather jacket over a plain black T-shirt.

His shoes were screamingly sexy Louboutin boots with bondage-style straps and the pointiest toes Ren had ever worn.

Thank goodness, the paparazzi photos had caught him with one foot in the air, and those sexy-ass boots on full display.

A sound from the pod across the aisle from his caught Ren’s attention.

He raised himself up as much as he could to see over the partition.

The plane was still climbing, and the seat belt sign remained lit, so Ren was restricted in how much he could see, but it was enough to show him that the man across the way—Adrian—had his hands clenched tight and was whimpering.

Ren felt an unfamiliar urge to comfort him, to reassure him that airline travel was the safest way of getting from one place to another, to hold his hand and soothe away his anxiety. The impulse to comfort was so foreign that Ren shook his head at his folly. This is what happens when I’m too sober.

As soon as the flight attendants were free to attend to the passengers, Ren ordered himself a glass of Johnnie Blue to take the edge off and told the attendants to keep them coming.

Dinner was served about three hours into the flight. Whatever Adrian had taken before they left had knocked him out so completely, he didn’t wake when the attendants took dinner orders. Ren heard him whimper every now and then, and his sleep was punctuated with restless shifting as he turned over.

Ren knew this because he hadn’t put his headphones on, content to read and scroll on his phone.

It didn’t mean anything, right? This concern he had, the way he felt protective of this guy he’d only said a dozen words to?

Anyone would be worried about someone who was such an anxious flier they had to knock themselves out.

Just neighborly concern. Never mind the fact that Ren had never had a neighbor in his entire life.

The flight attendants made their way through the cabin making sure everyone had everything they needed as they dimmed the lights to help people sleep.

Ren took the toiletries bag and pajamas provided by the airline and headed for the bathroom to change.

It wasn’t quite the same quality of products he used, but he still put moisturizer on his face and brushed his teeth before changing into the surprisingly comfortable PJs.

Someone was outside as Ren opened the bathroom door, but they didn’t wait for him to exit the small space. As they pushed inside, Ren realized it was Adrian, and Adrian kept moving forward until he was in Ren’s face.

“It’s a little cramped for two, n'est-ce pas?” Ren asked.

Adrian blinked at him, then gave him a slow smile that was full of sin. “Makes it perfect.”

“Then you knew I was in here.”

Again, the blink, and the corners of Adrian’s mouth curved up even more as heat lit his devastatingly beautiful eyes. “’Course I did. I followed you.”

Ren had had mile-high hookups before, but never on a commercial flight in a tiny one-ass bathroom. But whatever. Ren was up for anything.

“Then we should not let this moment go to waste.” Ren raised a hand and cupped Adrian’s neck as he drew the man to him.

There was a moment just before their mouths met when Ren stared into Adrian’s eyes and thought he’d never seen a prettier shade of green in his life.

Then Adrian’s mouth was on his, and Ren’s brain just about short-circuited from the way Adrian took control of the kiss.

Usually, Ren’s hookups were hesitant at first, letting him take the lead, but Adrian just went for it, leaning in and taking control until Ren moaned, and his cock was throbbing

Groaning into Adrian’s mouth, Ren chased after him as the intensity of Adrian’s assault lessened. He bit lightly at Adrian’s lower lip, grinning when Adrian growled and redoubled his effort. Mon Dieu, if this was the way Adrian kissed, fucking him would be exquisite.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to find out because just as Adrian put his hands on the waistband of Ren’s pajama bottoms, there was a discreet knock on the door. Then the door cracked open because Adrian hadn’t locked it behind him.

“Gentlemen, may I kindly suggest you return to your seats?” The attendant’s voice was quiet, polite, and definitely not taking no for an answer.

“Putain,” Ren spat, then rested his forehead against Adrian’s. “May I have a rain check when we get to London?”

“Definitely,” Adrian breathed. “That would be great.”

Another discreet knock, and Ren turned Adrian then pulled the bi-fold door open.

“Thank you very much, gentlemen,” the attendant said and followed them as they made their way back to their seats. “I trust we won’t have any other issues with the two of you for the remainder of the flight?”

Ren shook his head, as did Adrian who flopped back onto his seat as if he were a marionette who’s strings had been cut. It looked like he was asleep before the attendant turned his back and returned to the galley.

“Adrian?” Ren asked quietly, but there was no response.

He picked up the blanket from the floor and laid it across the now sleeping man, his head reeling with the events of the last few minutes.

Or maybe he was lightheaded from the lack of blood going to his brain.

Whatever. All Ren could hope was that Adrian had to change planes once they got to Heathrow so they could continue what they’d started.