Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 119

Chapter 119: 119. Jericho

Maisie

The flight attendant bent over, her breasts in Jericho’s face. She had a sweet smile, plump red lips coated in red, her blonde hair strapped tightly to her scalp and her buttons were opened lower than they’d been five minutes ago.

Her Russian was smooth. Her fingers laid on Jericho shoulder as she posed him a question.

"Nyet," he responded.

And then, she moved over to Soren, whose eyes had been glued to his tablet ever since we got into the plane. "Would you like anything else, sir?"

Her ass was in Quinlan’s and Mercer’s face, and Quinlan had the funniest expression as he stared at it. He looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh.

Our eyes met over the arch of her butt and he winked at me. I glanced sharply out the window, ignoring them.

I was still mad about yesterday. Not mad. Ashamed. Shamed had wrapped around me like a freaking blanket and I couldn’t look at Mercer without turning red because all I could hear was my pleas in that changing room.

All I could see was the looks on the faces of the women in the store. A woman had her jaw dropped and her hands clamped over the ears of her daughter who looked about the same age as me. I had now become the girl mothers told their daughters to stay away from.

And Mercer, the bastard had walked around the whole day with my juices on his mouth and chin. I’d been so wet, his collar had been soaked.

I remembered rather clearly how we pulled into the driveway yesterday and told me he was never going to wash that shirt.

Clearly, I wasn’t the only one in need of therapy.

The flight attendant didn’t smile at me. Neither did she bend over to give me a view of her breasts. I thought it was unfair. Weren’t women and men all equal? If they could get a flash, why couldn’t I?

"Do you vant anything?"

The question came out in a nasal, condescending manner, like she was talking to a stupid preschooler.

The Lycans glanced up at the tone. Jericho opened his mouth to speak, but I thought I could handle one catty woman myself.

I smiled sweetly at her. "Yes, actually. I’ll have whatever they’re having."

She frowned. "They didn’t—"

"Lean over," I blinked innocently. "Touch my shoulder. Or my thigh. Maybe my crotch. Either would make me feel warmer. Ask about my day. Tell me I have pretty eyes and ask me to join you in the bathroom in thirty minutes."

The woman flushed. "I get you some more tea," she said before disappearing down the aisle.

Quinlan leaned back in his chair, spreading his thighs comfortably. "You’re sexy when you get territorial like this."

I wasn’t being territorial. Right?

My gaze traveled outside the window at the clouds. "We’ve been flying for sometime. It didn’t take this long to get to the castle the last time."

They exchanged unreadable glances.

Jericho who sat across from me, all six foot seven inches of him and bulky mass hidden well behind a red polo t-shirt and tailored dark pants, glanced over at me. "We’re taking a detour."

It was the first time he’d spoken to me since I found out about his relationship with the Queen. I couldn’t look at him, out of fear that I would start to feel complicated things that I had no business feeling in the first place.

"And where exactly is this detour?"

Quinlan’s lips kicked up. "Île de Ré." At my blank, confused stare, he added, "Somewhere in coast of France."

"France?!" I echoed. "Isn’t that like fifteen hours away?"

Soren’s violet eyes crinkled. "Quinlan’s mother has promised us murder by strangling if we do not bring you by for dinner." He nodded to the door in the back. "I suggest you get comfortable. It’s be a long flight."

I would come to realize in exactly thirteen hours that I had been tricked.

Asking me to pack up and Mercer buying the swim suit hadn’t been a coincidence. I had no idea I was being tricked into going on a freaking honeymoon.

Goddess, I was going crazy.

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