Delayed by Nathan Kingsly (the false prince TXT) 📗

what I look for in a woman. Not even worth a second glance, and yet … .

My eyes soak her in, and on her tiptoes, she might reach my chin. Her curvy body on display with black leggings and a shirt draped over one soft-looking shoulder. That wild hair inside the bun atop her head sparks with red alongside the brown. She shifts under my scrutiny, and I catch her pulling her plump bottom lip between her teeth for half a heartbeat, but that didn’t stop my dick from reacting. When I look up to see what color her eyes are, I realize her shifting isn’t because of my inspection; it’s due to hers.

Her eyes dart back and forth along my exposed skin. I'm curious to know if she’s wondering how far my tattoos reach. Her cheeks pink a shade more, her lip released around a soundless gasp. I thrust my hips instinctively, and her round eyes meet mine. Blue, as blue as the sky on a clear day. Knowing I've caught her, her blush deepens, her eyes flash with defiance, and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on. The erection grows harder in my jeans.

“Thanks for the door.” My husky tone gives me away.

She blinks as if dazed before waving her hand in front of her face. “I’d want someone to do the same for me.”

“So, where are you headed?”

She laughs and shakes her head, the wild mass atop it bouncing with the movement. The abrupt change in her demeanor pushes me off-kilter, not unlike spinning off a ride before it ends. Or, I could be alone in feeling the charge in the space between us? It has been a long time, and I'm out of practice.

“What?” I ask, her eyes watchful as I cross my arms over my chest.

She shrugs her naked shoulder. “I thought you’d be more...original.”

My tentative smile fades. If we weren’t in a compartment with other people, I’d show you how ‘original’ I can be.

“This is my stop.” Giving me one last smile, her fingers brush across my arm as she passes. A shiver runs through me at the contact. No, not a shiver, a zap of electricity that tightens my abdomen and settles lower in my gut. She’s looking at her fingers as she exits, so there's hope I’m not alone. I watch her until the rail starts again and disappears.

“Harsh.” The guy next to me says.

Ignoring him and the feeling of opportunity lost, I check my ticket on my phone again—only two more stops on the rail. Then I have to haul ass again.

That’s exactly what I do.

The desk attendant’s eyes widen as I puff out my explanation. I stretch my body and press my hand against the stitch stabbing my side. That’s what I get for sleeping in an awkward position. Looking at the clock on the wall, I smile; I made it in time.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but your flight was the last to leave in the storm. All other planes are grounded until further notice."

"Storm?" I twist and flinch from the pain of the quick movement. It's then that I notice the sky; angry and black, as my mood is becoming, the leftover sunbeams disappearing behind the clouds. I groan, "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"Sorry about…."

"How long since it left?" Maybe they are still on the runway. They could give me a ride to it--wait, would they allow that?

"Take off was about five minutes ago, but you would have needed to be here fifteen ago to make the flight."

"Fifteen…" Looking up at the ceiling, I curse myself. If I hadn’t fallen asleep, I would have made it in time to be on that damn plane!

"In circumstances such as this, we would offer accommodations, but with the mass delay, we have no rooms in our hotel available. Would you like me to search the local hotels?"

"No.” Slamming a palm down on the counter causes her to jump. It takes some doing to get me to snap, but with the pressure bearing down on me, it’s a surprise I’ve kept it together this long. “What I want to know is, if there's another way. Maybe a charter boat? A car service that would drive a few states?"

She shakes her head before I finish. This girl is what I go for. Tall, blonde, fade with the others before her, so why can’t I chase that other girl out of my head, or this feeling of high from my veins? It’s got to be all this running around, spiked adrenaline. Yes, that’s it. Shaking my head, I focus back on the conversation.

“It’s just some rain.” I gesture outside.

“It's not ...” She flinches as the sound of thunder shakes the glass, and I squint my eyes from the light. “It’s a hurricane; they’re saying it’s already a class two storm.”

“Well, fuck.” I run a harsh hand through my hair. My stomach bottoms out somewhere near my feet, along with the will to persevere, while my anxiety rises back on up. “Airport bar?”

Her disapproval is in the line of her lips, but after a moment, she relents. “Main lobby. But, please, sir, consider ...”

“I’ll find a place to crash. Will my ticket be refundable or exchangeable?”

“The airline is working on getting that taken care of.”

“Alright, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

This time around, I stroll to the rail.

Ever since I got the call from Mia, it's been non-stop rushing. As soon as I got off the phone with her, I called my boss to tell him what was going on. In ten minutes, I was in my car, heading back to my apartment. The walk from my car, with my gun that I didn’t bother concealing, had my nerves fraying at the edges. As soon as I walked in, I had my gun up. I shut the door behind me and locked it. If someone was in there, they weren’t going to make it out again.

With measured steps, I walked through my mostly barren