Fight or Flight

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Fight or Flight Page 8

by Young, Samantha


  The guy chuckled, moving past my seat and into his. He wore a suit that fit him so perfectly it had to be tailored. He hunched over a little in the space to shrug out of the suit jacket.

  “Would you like me to take that, sir?” A flight attendant appeared at my side.

  “Yes, please.” He handed the jacket to her. Handsome. Check. Well mannered. Check.

  Not that I was interested, but it was safe to say today’s seatmate was a step up from yesterday’s already.

  “Could you take mine?” I began unbuttoning the red peplum jacket of my suit. I’d had the hotel dry clean it too.

  “Of course, madam.”

  Ugh. Madam. I missed the days of being a “Miss.” Still, I smiled gratefully as I handed it to her with a thank you.

  I slid back into my seat well aware of my new companion’s eyes on the black silk cami I wore tucked into my skirt. Turning to him, I gave him a small smile, which he returned. The guy had dark chocolate brown eyes, long sooty lashes any woman would have killed for, and a smooth Rob Lowe circa St. Elmo’s Fire look about him, minus the hair. This guy’s hair was thick, dark, and waved so perfectly back from his forehead he had to be using product. And a very expensive barber.

  I took in the crisp white shirt he wore along with the dark blue silk tie he was currently loosening. He had a slim, athletic build, more to my usual appeal than the man across the aisle from me. Yet he was doing nothing to my hormones. Which, as it turned out, was a good thing. My gaze snagged on his left hand as he tugged on the knot of his tie.

  There was a white band around his ring finger.

  The jerk had removed his wedding ring.

  Between the one-night stand on my right side and this ass on my left, I was beyond exasperated.

  “I’m Hugh.” He held out his hand to me.

  I shook hands, even though I was quietly cursing him in my mind. I didn’t understand guys who got married if they had no intention of staying faithful. “Ava.”

  “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

  Ugh, he wasn’t even original. “Thank you.”

  I thought I heard a grunt across the aisle, but I ignored it.

  “You live in Boston?” Hugh asked.

  He was giving me good eye contact, so much so it was like he was deliberately trying not to look anywhere else.

  “I do. You?”

  “Yes. Arlington Street.” He said it pointedly, with more than a hint of pomposity.

  God, the guy lived across the Common from me. And he was basically telling me he had lots of money.

  I don’t need your money, pal. There was no way I was telling him he could find my place just a ten-minute walk from his. “Nice.”

  “We like it.”

  Bingo. “We?”

  “Uh …” He gave me another charming smile. “I have a dog.”

  Did he just refer to his wife as a dog? “Oh, breed?”

  “French poodle.”

  I raised an eyebrow and Hugh gave a little self-deprecating laugh. “She was actually my ex-wife’s, but when she left me she also left La Roux.”

  A laugh bubbled up out of me before I could stop it. “She named the dog La Roux? And your name is Hugh.”

  He chuckled. “She had quite the sense of humor.”

  Past tense. Really?

  Okay, so there was the small possibility that this guy was recently separated … but my gut told me otherwise. Or maybe that was just my cynicism.

  Thankfully, before my distaste started to show, the flight attendant arrived to offer us something to drink. I almost flinched at the sight of the champagne and opted for a water. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Caleb working away on his laptop.

  The jerk didn’t even care some other guy might be flirting with me, and honestly … I didn’t want to flirt with this leech just to make a point to Caleb when I’d never see him again after this flight.

  “You know, I think I’m going to use the restroom before we take off,” Hugh said.

  “Sure.” I got up out of my seat to let him out, and this time he did let his eyes drag down my body.

  Not so well mannered after all.

  “Excuse me.”

  I turned to see the flight attendant behind me and stepped back to let her past, only for my ass to bump into the guy behind me. I spun around, my cheeks flushed as I met Caleb’s gaze. “Sorry.”

  He stared back, deadpan. “I’m familiar with having your arse in my face, babe. It’s not a problem.”

  Thankfully, he had no one beside him to overhear. Still, I leaned down so none of the other passengers could hear me, and a pleasurable but traitorous tingle of awareness shot through me as our noses almost touched. “Well, treasure the memory, Scotty Boy.”

  He gestured to the restroom beyond us, his expression neutral. “Planning on giving Vanilla there a look at it tae?”

  “It’s a nice ass—it would be a shame to keep it to myself,” I taunted, and the dark look he cut me made my breath catch.

  “A pain in the arse, aye. But I didn’t take you for being manipulative or a game player. But I guess what you said last night was right. Nobody really knows anybody else enough tae really trust them.”

  My breath caught and I straightened, needing distance from him. “You were awake.”

  “Aye, I was awake.”

  I decided to ignore the fact that he’d heard me say something so personal and so revealing and went with being pissed that he’d deliberately pretended to be asleep. “You didn’t need to pretend to be asleep to get rid of me. I was leaving anyway.”

  He shrugged. “It made it easier, though, right? No awkwardness.”

  I moved back to my seat. I’d been planning on standing until Hugh returned from the restroom, but I didn’t want to be near Caleb. As soon as I sat down, Caleb shut his laptop and swung the table out of his way to stand up. I tensed, wondering what he was planning on doing, but he ignored me and stood in the aisle.

  Despite myself, my eyes drifted to his ass, and I remembered rolling around in bed with him last night and feeling every finely crafted detail of his body. I was shocked by the bolt of longing and mourning that hit me in the chest as I realized I was disappointed I’d never get the chance to feel his lips on mine again.

  The man could kiss.

  And I didn’t mind the scratch of his short beard. There was something so erotically masculine about it.

  The sound of the restroom door opening brought my gaze up and I watched as Caleb strode toward Hugh as he came out of it. Instead of giving him space to pass, Caleb knocked his big shoulder into him, making him stumble.

  “Sorry,” Hugh mumbled, looking up.

  Why was he apologizing?

  Caleb didn’t apologize. No, Caleb cut him a look so chilling, I shivered. Then he disappeared into the restroom, having to duck and maneuver his large body in there.

  “Whoa.” Hugh was suddenly at my side, wearing a wide-eyed look. “Big guy. Scary guy.”

  I nodded and got out of my seat.

  “Wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.” He laughed as he slid by me.

  Apparently, you already did, I thought, disoriented by the idea. Did it bother Caleb that I couldn’t care less about our one-night stand? Why would it? He was the one who’d pretended to be asleep so I could sneak out and avoid any awkwardness.

  Hugh talked about his work as a lawyer in Boston, but I was only half listening. I was too aware of the guy in the restroom. I looked out for him in my peripheral vision as he stepped out of the bathroom, and suddenly I remembered that Caleb was afraid of takeoff and landing.

  I shouldn’t care.

  I really, really shouldn’t care.

  Dammit.

  “So, maybe when we get back in Boston, Ava, you and I could meet for drinks or dinner?” Hugh asked as Caleb returned to his seat. I shot Caleb a look and found him staring back at me in derision.

  I gave him a dismissive look and turned to Hugh. And in a not so quiet voice I respo
nded, “I don’t date married men.”

  He looked stunned. “Married? I’m not—Why would you—?”

  “You slipped your ring off while you were taking your jacket off, right?” I guessed.

  He flushed guiltily, giving himself away.

  “Yeah. There’s a white ring of skin where your band usually sits. Oh, and your pickup lines are awful.” I gave him a wide, carefree smile and slipped out of my seat.

  Crossing the aisle, my e-reader in hand, I began easing my way past Caleb’s legs.

  “What the hell?” He pulled his laptop toward him as I clambered by his knees and fell into the seat beside him.

  “Don’t say a word.” I glared into his scowling face. “This doesn’t mean anything. You are just currently the lesser of two evils, and do not tell me you wouldn’t rather have me beside you to annoy you and distract you during takeoff.”

  Caleb glared at me. “I dinnae need you.”

  Inwardly I flinched. Outwardly, I smirked. “Yeah, you do.”

  He sighed and glanced over at Hugh, who was staring at us in confusion. Caleb turned to me, his upper lip curled in a sneer. “Realized he was married, did you?”

  “I saw the white band on his finger the moment he sat down.”

  “I saw him slip it off as soon as he saw you.”

  “And if I hadn’t noticed it, were you planning on sharing that information?”

  Ducking his head toward mine, Caleb put on a patronizing expression. “I’m not your rescuer, babe. You want tae screw a slimeball, that’s your business.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Last night I made my quota on slimeballs.”

  He shrugged and sighed. “Guess I walked intae that one.”

  One of the flight attendants interrupted us to announce that we were readying for takeoff. Caleb put away his laptop and stowed his tray table.

  “So …” I shifted uncomfortably. “You heard everything I said last night?”

  “You mean the part about me living up tae your grand expectations?”

  I covered my eyes with my hand. “I blame it on being under the influence of endorphins. Postorgasmic chitchat.” I removed my hand and frowned. “That means it doesn’t count.”

  “Oh, it counts.” He bent his head toward mine, eyes drifting over my face, to land on my mouth. “And I’m thinking you sitting here means you’re after more of the same when we get tae Boston.”

  I jerked back from him in denial. “Uh, no. When we land in Boston, it is the last time we ever see each other. I’m not going to sit here and lie that last night wasn’t great sex—”

  “Fantastic sex.”

  I flushed, pleased that he thought so. “Okay, fantastic sex. But I still don’t like you.”

  His expression chilled. “So? I still don’t like you either. Doesn’t mean I dinnae want tae sleep with ye again.”

  “You weren’t of that opinion when you pretended to be asleep.”

  Caleb grinned, and I hated how that flash of smile sent a ripple through my belly. “That really bugged you, eh? And that was last night. I’d just had you and didn’t expect tae want you again. Now that you’re here, though …” His eyes trailed down to my breasts and on down to my crossed legs. “Aye, I wouldn’t mind another go.”

  Incredulity and fury raged through me. “Another go? Another go?”

  His lips trembled with laughter. “Poor word choice?”

  “You’re a pig. Last night I got what I needed and I don’t want to go there again.”

  In answer, Caleb bent his head until his lips gently brushed my ear and he whispered, “Liar.”

  I shivered, my breasts tightening at the mere caress of that mouth near my skin. His laughter warmed the skin at my neck and I whipped my head around until our lips were inches apart. “You are a cocky son of a bitch.”

  “Aye.”

  “Boston is filled with beautiful women. They’ll be happy to see to you. I’m sure that accent gets you pretty far here.”

  “It usually does. It’s not my first trip tae Boston.”

  Of course, I was just one in a long line of American women. My jaw locked with annoyance and I couldn’t help glaring at him.

  Something flickered in his gaze, and I really hoped it wasn’t triumph, because I would swing for him if it was. And then his lips were back at my ear. “I can’t remember the last time any of them felt as good as you did, though, Ava.”

  Heat flushed through me as I remembered just how good he felt. I licked my suddenly dry lips and somehow managed to turn to look him in the eyes. Leaning in, I brushed my lips over his, a barely-there kiss that made them tingle deliciously. “Like I said, Caleb … treasure that memory.” I sat back in my seat, staring defiantly at him.

  Instead of blasting me with a dirty look like I’d half expected, he gazed at me with something new in his eyes. Something almost like respect. Then he seemed to remember where we were and he looked around, realizing we were already in the air.

  His beautiful gaze bored into me with a thoroughness that made me tense. “Looks like I owe you again.”

  I shook my head. “We’re not going to be around each other long enough for you to pay up.”

  Hearing the sincerity in my words, Caleb finally nodded. “Your loss.”

  Despite the niggling voice in my head that told me I was an idiot for not taking him up on his offer for another go-around of guilt-free best-sex-ever, I stared determinedly at my e-reader.

  Minutes of silence stretched between us as Caleb got his laptop back out and started to work. I couldn’t concentrate on my book. I started to stew over the fact that I couldn’t deny I did feel a sense of longing for this guy. Did I really need to like him to have sex with him? Really? Wasn’t sex just sex?

  I glanced at his hands typing away on his laptop and flushed, remembering how skillful those fingers were. I could feel myself giving in.

  Just as I opened my mouth to tell him so, he spoke first. “Stop worrying yourself over there. Like you said, there’s plenty of beautiful women in Boston. I won’t go lonely.”

  Arghh!

  My fingers bit around my e-reader to the point I was afraid I might crack the screen. He was horrible.

  Just horrible!

  And I had had sex with him.

  “I hope it falls off,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  I gave him a blinding smile. “I hope they fall all over you.”

  “You said, ‘I hope it falls off.’ ”

  “Did I?” I shrugged innocently. “Slip of the tongue.”

  “Aye, if I remember correctly you’re good at that too.”

  I glowered at him, scowling harder as I felt the seat shake with his laughter.

  Bastard. Scot.

  Eight

  So … what you’re telling me is that you had sex for the first time in seven years with a hot stranger who talks like a guy out of Outlander?” Harper asked.

  Hiding a smile at the shock on her face, I nodded casually.

  She leaned forward from her curled-up position on my couch to say, “Are you kidding around or not? Because I’m starting to think not.”

  “I’m not kidding around.”

  “You slept with a hot Scottish stranger at O’Hare?”

  “Yup.”

  Harper broke out into a massive grin. “You know you were pretty much my hero before this, but you just upped the hero worship by a hundred and ten percent.”

  “Because I slept with a stranger?”

  “Uh, correction—you had sex with a kilted Highlander.”

  I burst into laughter. “They don’t all go around wearing kilts and swords, you know. I’m guessing most of them stopped doing that about a few hundred years ago.”

  “You know what I mean!” she cried, bouncing up off the couch and making my heart leap into my throat at the way her wine sloshed around in her glass. “Just when people think they have you figured out … boom! You do something completely out of character.” She raised her glass precariously
again and rolled her eyes at me when she noticed my wince. “Which is a nice vacation from coaster girl.” She placed the wineglass down on a coaster and took her seat again.

  I sighed. “What is so wrong about not wanting to leave ring marks on my furniture?”

  “I could say something dirty to that but I’m going to refrain.”

  “Talk about shocking,” I teased.

  Harper rolled her light gray-blue eyes again and shook her head. “I can’t believe you had a one-night stand.”

  “Not just any one-night stand. An epic one-night stand.” I could admit that to my best friend. We told each other everything. People were often surprised by my friendship with Harper. I was thirty years old, slightly conservative, reserved with most people, well educated and, yes, I could admit it, a bit overly organized. Nothing in my apartment was out of place … or on me either. Even lounging at home with Harper, I wore yoga pants and an off-the-shoulder blouse. Makeup on and hair done. I didn’t own a pair of jeans.

  Harper, on the other hand, was twenty-six years old, and had very short platinum blond hair that was cut close at the sides and left long on top so she could style it. Some days she styled it into a sharp, messy quiff, other days in a softer one with a retro vibe. The cut did not at all detract from my friend’s femininity—it just gave her an edge. She had soft features—pert nose, full lips, wide eyes, and long lashes. Then there were her dimples. Every time she laughed or smiled, these adorable dimples flashed in her cheeks. Harper was multifaceted in many ways. Looks-wise, when she was straight-faced and staring at you with those soulful big eyes, she was downright beautiful and striking with her daring haircut. But when she smiled, she was absolutely cute as a button.

  In her right ear were multiple piercings. As a pastry chef in one of Boston’s best restaurants, she wore only studs and tiny hoops. Three close-to-the-skin hoops on the bottom and then five studs up along the cuff of her ear, each a different-colored stone that winked and sparkled when the light caught it. In her left ear was only a hoop and a stud.

 

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