Chapter Five
Almost before the words were out of my mouth, Lance was getting to his feet. Dumbstruck, I looked on, wondering if I’d offended him. Or perhaps he was put off by a woman being so forward. Although, I couldn’t imagine many men being left cold by an overt come-on.
He walked back down the aisle before lightly tugging the elbow of the blonde flight attendant, Cat. Twisting and craning my neck so I could see over the top of the seats, I watched them share a brief few words before she nodded and smiled agreeably. I could lip-read the word ‘thanks’ from him, and then he smartly spun on the ball of his foot.
With long strides he came back up the aisle, and as he reached his seat he leaned forward. “Come with me,” he said, offering me his warm hand and an even warmer smile.
I opened my mouth to speak, but a series of unintelligible mumblings were all that emerged.
“Come on,” he chuckled. “Let’s go somewhere a little less public.”
Unsure what he meant, I found myself nevertheless taking his hand and allowing my body to be pulled from the seat. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I was aware that I would not have accepted his invitation so readily just two weeks before. But then, two weeks before, I wouldn’t have been on a plane to Paris, either.
He lead me up the plane, toward the nose, until we reached the thick security door that separated the cockpit from the rest of the plane. Stopping, he released my hand and tipped his face up to the ceiling. Finding what he was looking for, he stretched onto his toes to reach the handle of a hatch in the ceiling.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Not providing an answer, he tugged the hatch down and with it came a small ladder. “Up you go,” he encouraged with a flick of his head.
“Should we be doing this?” I mumbled, anxiously.
“It’s fine,” he insisted, one hand snaking around my hip and guiding me to the steps.
Placed directly in front of him, I felt the heat of his solid frame at my back. As my hands tentatively folded around the ladder’s white rails, he shuffled forward, pressing himself more firmly against me. A very obvious, very large bulge was thrust to the small of my back and I felt all of the air leave my lungs.
“I want you too, Brooke,” he whispered, head dipped down so his cheek was resting against mine and the words brushed my skin. “I want you so bad.”
The tiny part of my brain that was still functioning rationally paused and wrestled over whether I was about to do something I’d regret.
Live for the moment, I reminded myself. Grab opportunities; experience new things. Well, Lance was certainly an opportunity and having sex with someone who’d been a stranger to me less than four hours before was definitely new.
Not that my internal conversation mattered anyway. The larger, lustful part of my mind was in control of my actions and had already compelled my feet to climb.
The ladder lead to an attic space above the cockpit. It had two bunks, one either side, and a narrow space between them. Both bunks were really just mattresses with white pillows at the head, red blankets folded at the bottom, and beige drapes that were hung on a rod above and swept open.
“I know it’s not much,” his voice called from below, as he began to follow. “But it’ll give us some privacy.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, turning to watch his dark head emerge through the hatch.
Smiling, he quickly took the last few rungs and yanked the opening back into place behind him.
“What if someone comes in?” I asked.
“They won’t,” he replied softly, taking a step toward me. “Cat’s told the flight crew that I’m getting some shuteye up here.”
“But-” I muttered.
“Don’t worry,” he smiled, placing both hands on my hips and tugging me toward him. “I promise, we’re not gonna be disturbed.” His fingers drawing lazy patterns, his grin brightened as he pressed himself against me.
The heat radiating from him was verging on scalding, and the pressure of his body caused my heart to leap into my throat. Struggling to swallow, I drew shallow breaths as I felt the rapidly flowing blood flush my cheeks.
He released me just long enough to chuck his jacket, allowing it to fall to the floor. Then, his hands were on me again, more insistent than before, hungry, lustful. As his head bent forward to claim my mouth, his fingers swept up the inside of my sweater, coming into contact with the bare skin beneath it.
At his touch, I arched, pressing my breasts more firmly into his hard chest as I accepted his open-mouthed desperate kiss. Tongues tangling and darting frantically back and forth, and breath coming in pants, he rubbed the bulge in his pants against my abdomen, causing me to moan deep in the back of my throat.
Desire pooled between my legs; raging and raw, the craving to be touched was flooring in its intensity and its suddenness. With mouths continuing to move voraciously over each other, my tongue was far too busy for words. Desperate to feel some relief from the ache, I reached to his right hand and eased it away from my breast.
He allowed me to guide him toward my jeans and when I released him long enough to unbutton them, he no longer needed direction. His fingers instantly slipped inside my pants and massaged me through my underwear.
“Ugh,” I grunted into his mouth, grinding feverishly against his hand.
His tongue stilled, and I felt his lips lift in a smile. Tearing his mouth from mine, he met my wild, hungry eyes. “You’re so sexy,” he uttered, his voice suddenly deeper and tinged with lust.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many women he’d seduced like this; he seemed well-practiced. However, those thoughts abandoned me in a hurry when he gently hooked the crotch of my panties aside. “Oh, God,” I whimpered, as his long, thick fingers parted my folds. Carefully, he stroked upward, lubricating himself with my arousal before reaching the tight, engorged and needy bud of my clitoris.
With expert movements, he rolled the pad of his index finger in small, slow circles. Feeling the strength seep from my legs, I hurriedly grabbed his shoulders to keep myself upright. Lance noted the effect he was having and smiled.
“God, Brooke,” he murmured. “You’re so warm...so wet.”
“Argh,” I cried, my eyes closing and head tipping back on a neck that no longer wanted to hold it. “Lance,” I panted, “I’m so close.”
“I know,” he whispered, replacing his finger with his thumb and allowing the longer digits to slide down to my entrance.
With a frantic jerk of my hips, I begged him to penetrate me. I did not care whether I looked like a slut. Nor did I care whether it was obvious how desperate I was and, therefore, how long it had been since I’d been touched that way. All that mattered was that he finished what he’d started.
I expected him, like every other man I’d known, to force his fingers deep into me in a quick, aggressive thrust. Men I’d slept with, if they bothered to prepare me at all, liked to use their fingers in the same way they used their dicks. However, Lance was full of surprises. He barely entered me at all. Instead, he used the tip of his index finger to circle my sex in the same rhythm he was stimulating my clit.
“Oh, God,” I exhaled, my nails digging into the hard muscles of his shoulders.
Gradually, so gradually, it made me want to scream, he slipped one finger into my channel. Even then, he only went as far as his second knuckle. In complete control over not just his body, but also mine, he traced the spongy flesh for a few seconds before pressing against the front wall.
The speed and accuracy with which he found my g-spot was truly something to behold. Yelping, I bucked against him, my head suddenly snapping upright and eyes wide. “Jesus,” I hissed.
“Good?” he asked, with a knowing chuckle.
“I...I...” I stammered, mouth dry and uncooperative.
His dark, dangerous eyes fixed on mine, he applied pressure and began to move his finger back and forth.
“Shit,” I screeched, losing my grasp of him and
hands flailing to resume my hold.
Sparks of molten heat were shooting up from the juncture of my thighs, filling my belly. As though a vise had clasped my brain, I was focused on just two things: that feeling, and the sensual, lustful look in his eyes.
Fingers moving more purposefully as he sensed the coiling of the spring, Lance urged me to keep my eyes open. “I want to see them when you come,” he explained.
At any other time, I might have felt self-conscious about that, but I was too far gone to register anything beyond his command. Spiraling higher, I rocked against him, rubbing myself against the thumb that had stilled.
And then, before I was aware of what was happening; before I had expected it. The wave crashed over me, stealing my breath and making me senseless to everything beyond it. I forced my lids to remain open, and kept my eyes on his. What I saw within those bright, vibrant depths was enough to make me shiver with a second orgasm.