by Tiana Laveen
He devoured his plate in no time flat, and focused on the woman’s profile. Her exhaustion was more than apparent, but she kept chugging along, being his cheerleader, holding down the fort and keeping the torch blazing. . .
“If you ever get the idea that you can walk away from me, and I’d be cool with that and let you go, you’ve got another think coming,” he mumbled, taking a leisurely sip of his iced tea. He set the glass back on the nightstand.
She craned her neck in his direction. “Well, that came out of the blue,” she smirked. “Feeling possessive, are we?” she said with a raised eyebrow as she popped another forkful of fish inside.
“No, just letting you know the deal. No need for me to keep it a secret. Now, goodnight, baby.” He yawned. “In a few hours, I’ll be making love to you again, so try to rest up because I’m focused on an all-nighter.”
He placed his empty plate on the nightstand and pulled the sheets up over him after lying on his side. The sandman knocked on his eyelids, determined to pull them shut like window blinds. His muscles relaxed, and the clean sheets embraced his tired body. He pressed his head into the feather down pillow, and the damn thing smelled like spring… It didn’t take long for him to fall under the spell of a beautiful dream, in which he was flying high…
He looked dapper, handsome and huge, a proud smile on his face. He glanced to his side and noticed his co-pilot. She was more beautiful than the heavens she so richly believed in… Then he noticed their destination.
How magnificent and befitting…a trip to Paris.
“Good evening, passengers. This is your captain speaking. First, I’d like to welcome everyone on Delta Flight 75A. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 32,000 feet, at airspeed of 400 miles per hour. The time is 9:31 p.m. The weather looks good and with the tailwind on our side we are expecting to land in Paris approximately seven minutes ahead of schedule. The weather in Paris is clear with a slight breeze, with a high of 64 degrees at this current time. If the weather cooperates we should get a great view of the city as we descend. The cabin crew will be coming around in about ten minutes’ time to offer you a light snack and beverage. I’ll communicate with you again before we reach our destination. Until then, sit back, relax and enjoy the rest of the flight…”
*
…Several weeks later
HIS CALF MUSCLES threatened to seize up as he tossed about, turning the sheets into a tornado of knots.
“Ahhhhh!” He gripped the pillow as his orgasm finally subsided.
…Now THIS is how you wake up in the morning. A Parisian blowjob was sure to blow one’s mind.
She slinked away, no doubt proud of herself, and snuggled next to him, watching him spasm as though he were some medical mystery. His body continued to jerk uncontrollably while the head of his cock jetted the last of his appreciation. He felt like a damn fool, a happy fool nevertheless, but he couldn’t rein the shit in.
“Ahhhh, shit…” He smiled, exhausted.
Sitting up, he brought her to him and put his arm around her.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…” They both burst out laughing. “I need to talk to you about some things.”
“Me too.” Her smile slowly dissipated.
“All right. Do you want to go first?” He looked into her eyes.
“No, you go,” she said quietly.
“Okay. First of all, thanks again for that nice get together.”
“You’ve thanked me a million times, Brent.” She smiled and rolled her eyes. “I know you enjoyed seeing your friends. It’s cool. And it was nice to finally meet Carl.”
“Well, it really meant a lot to me. You put a lot of work into that, too. Now, the other thing I wanted to discuss with you is the fact that I’m having trouble getting a job, but I won’t give up and I’m sorry about it taking so long.”
“Brent, give it time. It’s only been a few weeks.”
“I know, baby, but every day I get up, and everything seems okay, I interview well, and then they see that I was imprisoned for a murder—never mind that it was self defense and I was released. After that, I don’t hear shit else. I’m just…frustrated. I’m used to setting my mind to something and the shit just happens, you know?” He exhaled a breath, his brows furrowed.
“I know, baby, but look, it’s not like we’re destitute. You told me about the additional money you had. We will use that if necessary. I’m making decent money with the shop. Now sure, I have to cover the expenses first, and you’ve been a great help with the record keeping.”
“Well, of course I have,” he said with a smirk. “I’m not going to sit around here doing nothing all day. Might as well help you with your business.” He kicked the sheets off him in defeat.
“You and I are just spoiled.” She laughed lightly. “We’re used to not having to be concerned about money. Neither one of us is spending it up. Besides that party, there’s been no splurging going on.”
He nodded.
“Well, I gotta find something…and fast. I’ve always worked, even when I didn’t have to.”
“Oh, I meant to ask you—how’d it feel to watch those airplanes again?” She grinned.
“What? Last night?”
“And the night before that, and the night before that.” She laughed. “You still love going over to the airport,” she said as she slid out from under the sheets and slipped on her robe. “I think that’s pretty cool though, and after you took me that one time, I can see why it attracts you.”
“It’s relaxing.” He sighed and sat back. “Hey, where are you going? I thought you needed to talk to me.”
“I do, was just feeling a bit chilly. I need to tell you something, and I’m not even certain how to say this.”
“What?” His gut knotted with concern.
“My period is a couple days late, Smoke…”
Much to his surprise, not a single muscle in his body jumped. He swallowed, looked ahead at the television on mute, then back at her.
“Have you been late before?”
“Yes, and with all that is going on, it may not have anything to do with it but we—”
“Yeah, I know…the first night I was back home, actually that entire week, yeah…we didn’t use protection. I remember.” He closed his eyes and ran his palm over his face. He looked down into his lap then back at her. “Would that really be so bad though, Paris?” He couldn’t believe the shit he was saying, but he meant every damn word.
The look on her face was absolutely priceless.
“You mean…” She pointed at him squarely. “You’d actually be okay with that?”
“Yeah, I would. I’d make sure you and the baby were taken care of, I promise, baby. I will bust my ass to get something, secure some more money so that everything is fine. You know me, Paris. You know I’ll find a job. I’ll make a way somehow.” His jaw twitched with the promise of something renewed. He stared at her stomach, wondering if his seed was growing within her. He couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ve never been pregnant before.” She smiled sadly. “Not that I know of, anyway.” She shrugged. “In our line of work, you know that was a blessing.”
“Yeah…” He scratched his neck. “All this does is motivate me that much more, Paris. Please don’t be concerned. I’ll make this right. Come here…”
She slid back onto the bed and crawled towards him. Wrapping his arms around her, he placed a big kiss across her lips. He looked into her eyes.
“I love you so much, Pussycat. I know this wasn’t planned, and the timing might not be the best, but if you’re pregnant, I’m happy. I’m not going to be like my father, nor your father, either. I’m going to be there in every sense of the word. I’m going to go with you to the doctor’s appointments. I’ll be there, I’ll be reliable.” He kissed her forehead, eliciting a smile. “I’m going to be the best father I can be. I will do right by you and this baby. I’ve honestly never thought about being a father for any extended period of time. I figured it
was one of those things that just wasn’t meant for me…but when you find the right one, the right person, all of that changes. And,” he said, taking a deep breath, “you’re definitely the right one.”
She looked up at him and traced his lips with her index finger.
“I’m so glad I got over my fears and went out with you. Even with everything we’ve been through, I’d go through it all over again because you are everything I could hope for,” she confessed.
Inside, he was a ball of nerves, but he kept that turmoil under lock and key. He meant everything he said to her; this news put an even greater fire within him, if that were possible.
…Our child won’t be in this world hungry, withdrawn, lonely, and with no parents showing each other love! My child won’t think no one wants them. My child won’t have a mother that is selling her body, and a father reaping the benefits. Our child will know their mother and father love and respect one another, and they were conceived out of that emotion. Paris and I have a past, but that won’t be my child’s future. I’m breaking the cycle, NOW!
*
Chapter Eighteen
SMOKE FOUND HIMSELF once again at the airport. This time, he got out of his car and walked inside as if he had a late morning flight he was afraid to miss. LAX had top security, gave people a sense of safety. He walked about, hands shoved in his pockets, and took in the scenery. Earlier that day, he’d been out, feet hitting the pavement, putting in applications at all sorts of companies from travel agencies to call centers to stores, even Wal-Mart. He’d done the online thing, too but hoped that if a manager or two saw him in person, he’d increase his chances. These public appearances however put him under the watchful eye of scrutiny. If someone had walked in and recognized him, he’d become a joke in all of L.A., but he didn’t care; he had a woman who needed him, and possibly a baby on the way. It was time to square up, look up and grow the fuck up. He walked past a McDonald’s and waved at the young lady behind the register. He still had that twitch. He was wired to ‘recruit’ and it seemed the shit was so engrained in his nature, he couldn’t shake it completely loose. He hated it now, detested it, but he also accepted that just because something is doesn’t mean it has to be nurtured. He walked past her, then double backed, unable to cure himself completely of the draw…
“Hey, uh…” he said, uncertain and hesitant. “Are you all hiring?”
She smiled at him and blushed a bit, as women often did when he was out on the prowl.
“I don’t know, but I can give you an application. Hold on a second.” She disappeared into a small back area, then returned with the application form. “You can do it online, too.” She handed it to him.
“I’ll just fill it out here. Do you have an ink pen I can borrow?” She nodded and handed him one as he moved off to the side to let customers pass. As he began to fill it out, he came to the section about criminal history, and considered the benefits of simply lying about it.
Maybe they won’t check me out… maybe if I say no for a change, I can get hired…
He struggled with this, so much, the vein in the middle of his forehead felt like it was fixing to pop out of his head.
Here I am, a motherfucker who graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA! An entrepreneur by many standards—fuck society’s opinion. I’m good with facts and figures. I’ve had extensive flight training and I’m good at just about anything I set my mind to; yet here I am sweating bullets over a damn McDonald’s application to fry some fucking burgers!
He danced with his ego and pride, his anger fueling him to the point that he was ready to tear that damn application up and explode. It wasn’t that he thought he was too good to work at a fast food restaurant, but his gut told him he had a long road ahead, and this proved a lesson he’d carry with him always. One day, hopefully, when he looked back on his life, he’d understand.
“I’d like to get a number four, please, with a large diet coke,” a customer said.
Brent slowly looked up and couldn’t believe his eyes. There, standing bold as shit, was a john he recalled all too well. His name was Benjamin Rhodes, and not only had he ordered some artery clogging food, he did so in a damn pilot’s uniform…
*
“SO HERE’S THE thing,” Benjamin said around a belch as the two sat at a wobbly table eating their meals. “With you having that stint in prison, yeah, but you can get that expunged since you were proven not guilty. How many years of experience do you have?”
“Oh man, Ben, I’ve been going to flight school since I moved out here to California. My father paid for it so basically I attended from about age sixteen up until I was almost twenty-one. I also kept going back for classes and refresher courses when I got into the life, just for the hell of it.”
“Good, because it takes a long time to get in and the more experience you have, the better. So, here’s what I want you to do. Get your record expunged, and enroll in college to get a four-year degree. It doesn’t matter what degree, but if it is something medical, then that’s good—or even like human resources, anything that can be applied to help you as a pilot, or at least looks good on paper. There are accelerated programs for adults where you can get a four year degree in three years, sometimes two, depending on the program, and best of all, unlike when I was in college, you can get a lot done online.”
Smoke drew a noisy slurp of his lemonade and nodded.
“I have a little savings. I might have a baby on the way though Benjamin, so I need to be careful with the money…invest it wisely.”
The man’s eyes widened in surprise, then he looked around suspiciously. “I uh, want to thank you, Smoke, for always being courteous to me. I had heard about what happened after I came for…service… of course. Paris let me know that you all were closing down.” He hung his head. “I never told you why I came to your place of business in the first place though.”
Smoke shook his head. “It doesn’t matter the reason, Ben. That’s your personal business.”
“No,” the man said gravely. “But it matters to me.” He pointed at himself. “Smoke, when I met you, you were basically running two brothels across the street from one another. I had been told by a buddy of mine about you and Paris, and the experiences I could have at your business would be like none other. He said it was top notch, and he went on and on about it. I was assured it was secure, the girls were clean, and you and Paris were very discreet and professional.” He took a deep breath. “I had never had sex with anyone other than my wife, before coming to you, Smoke. She and I have been married for thirty-two years. You see, my wife has terminal cancer. She’s dying.”
“…I’m sorry.”
Benjamin nodded forlornly.
“I’ve always had what I’d call a rather healthy sexual appetite. Knowing this about me, she’d given me permission to have, you know, sex with someone else.” He wiped at the sudden moisture in his eyes. “I know what everyone thinks of prostitution and all of that, and if anyone found out about what I was doing, I could lose everything, but no one knew my story, you know?” He shrugged. “People can judge all they want, but I needed to go somewhere safe, a place where I was treated with a shred of dignity. You gave that to me and then some. You never made any crude remarks, you ran your business very professionally and the girls were always a lot of fun.” He chuckled sadly.
“Thank you for that, Benjamin, and you’re right. No one knows another man’s story. All I can say is being out of the life has some pros and cons, but it’s always been my dream to fly commercial airlines.”
“You know what?” The man dabbed the side of his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to see if I can pull some strings, Smoke. I’m not promising anything, but I’ve got a good feeling about this. Not to brag, but I have a lot of clout too, and I’ve gotten two of my buddies in as well. I want you to give me all of your flight school information. Mail it to me; I’ll give you my address.”
“Yeah, of course,” Smoke said excitedly as he whipped his phone out to take the
information down.
“After you do that, do what I said regarding your record and if you need an attorney or can’t afford one, my wife’s best friend’s husband is a criminal attorney and I will ask him what you might be able to do. With your high school GPA, no drug charges,” he said with a shrug, “that can only work in your favor. Maybe I can get you in here a bit faster, but you still have a lot of work to do.”
“Of course, of course!”
“You’ve got well over the sixty hours sought after. You’ve already got your Private Pilot certificate.” The man seemed to be doing a checks and balances for himself, working it all out. “Do you have your medical certificate?”
“No.”
“Get it done this week. I’ll give you the info of the guy to call.”
“I’m on it.” Smoke’s heart was beating out of his damn chest, his excitement reaching a fever pitch, and the joy within wanted to burst free at the notion that this really might happen.
“Smoke, you’ll need fifty hours of cross country Pilot-in-Command, also known as PIC, and forty hours of definite or replicated instrument conditions. For the commercial certificate, you will need two hundred and fifty hours total time, a hundred hours PIC, fifty hours cross country, and ten hours of dual instruction in a complex aircraft. I can get you to the right people for that, too. Will you be able to handle this? Because once I start making calls, you will need to move when I say move. I really want to help you…but you have to be committed.”