Heavy Turbulence

by Kimberly Fox

  Riley is gorgeous with her heated green eyes and her brown hair pulled back as tight as her ass. That short skirt is killing me the way it hugs the top of her slender legs, making me wonder how soft the insides of her thighs would feel squeezed against my cheeks as I bury my tongue deep inside of her.

  She’s feisty, just how I like it. I love the way she keeps raising her dainty little nose in defiance and acting like she’s not squirming inside at my crude words. But those rosy cheeks that are so quick to blush keep betraying her coolness.

  I have to entertain myself somehow on these long trips. These boring fucking clouds won’t do it.

  As much as I’m fucking with her, I’m stoked to have her on board. Finally, someone I can play with. Not like the last stewardess, Rose. What a snorefest she was.

  Playing games and making Riley uncomfortable on her first day is a bit of an asshole move, but it’s the quickest way to get a woman in bed, or on the floor, or in the cockpit. Making a few dirty comments to get under a woman’s skin always jacks up the sexual tension, and when they finally give in, they unleash all of that frustrated energy onto my cock. A quick angry fuck with no desire to settle down. It always works like a charm.

  Riley doesn’t know what she’s in for. I already got her all worked up and fuming. She’s probably thinking about me right now as she undresses, cursing me and wanting to make me pay.

  But I might have underestimated her. She got under my skin as well.

  I rub my jaw as I regret bringing up my time in the Air Force. Usually throwing out that I was a fighter jet pilot is enough to get the panties down, but Riley seemed to have caught on that I was kicked out. It backfired, and she went for my nuts instead.

  My dishonorable discharge is still a sore spot for me. I loved that job. Flying a fighter jet at fifteen hundred miles per hour was the ultimate rush. And I was good at it. So yeah, the discharge pissed me off.

  It still does, so I wasn’t about to explain to her what happened.

  I’ve been stuck with this job ever since, flying around this slow-moving bus for the past year and a half. Marv is cool when he’s not being a dick and making me stay in Siberia for weeks at a time while he tries to get a pipeline installed through some poor fuck’s farm.

  The image of Riley’s soft lips tightened into an angry grimace is running through my mind again when there’s a knock on the door. She’s back for more.

  “Come in,” I call out with a smile brewing on my lips. Time for round two.

  But it’s not Riley. It’s my other conquest: Kara.

  She’s looking sinfully hot as usual with a tight low-cut dress that can barely contain her ample tits. She licks her lips when she sees me, and it’s enough to get me rock hard.

  “Hi, Dexy,” she says, laying on the little girl voice extra hard. Uh-oh. She wants something.

  Her perfect blonde hair is feathered around her slim shoulders and she’s got that pouty look on her face. The one that drives me wild.

  Kara is stunning, and I’m embarrassed that I haven’t gotten anywhere with her yet. She’s the ultimate jackpot. Hidden Pleasures model. Boss’ wife. So taboo. So off limits. So fucking hot.

  “What can I do for you, my love?” I ask, flashing her a wide smile.

  She slides her delicate hand over my shoulder and leans down, tickling my cheek with her silky hair. Her vanilla perfume has my head swirling and my dick hardening, and the front row view of her voluptuous cleavage beside me isn’t helping.

  I want her bad and she knows it. She toys with me. Always dangling a carrot in front of me and then yanking it back when I reach for it. She’s a master cock tease of the highest order.

  And one day she will be mine.

  “I don’t like this new girl,” she whispers. Her warm breath that smells like cinnamon washes over me, and I can’t help but wonder what the rest of her smells like. “I want her gone.”

  “Why are you asking me?” I say, shifting in my seat. My sudden hard-on is making these pants feel awfully tight. “Why don’t you ask the big man?”

  She licks her lips as she traces her fingertips down my chest and over my abs. I swallow hard as she passes my belt buckle and slides her hand down my thigh, barely missing my hard cock. “We both know who the real big man is on this plane.”

  “What’s in it for me?” I ask with a grin.

  My dick jumps as she takes her hand off my leg and stands back up. “Make her disappear, and you’ll find out.” She’s staring at me with ‘fuck me’ eyes, but one thing I’ve learned is that Kara is a master at giving ‘fuck me’ eyes and not really meaning it. All this woman really craves is money. That’s the only thing that gets her hot.

  But I’m still going to try. I’ll never stop trying with her.

  She struts to the open door of the cockpit, swaying her luscious round hips with every step. She stops at the door and leans on the frame like it’s a stripper pole. “Make her gone,” she repeats in a husky voice, “and my panties may follow her.”

  My heart is pounding so hard that I can’t hear her stiletto heels clicking and clacking as she struts away.

  I stare at the hovering clouds wondering if she’s telling the truth or if it’s just another dangling carrot when Marv walks in and plops himself down on the co-pilot’s seat.

  “Where are we?” he asks, flicking a switch that he shouldn’t be touching. I slap his hand away.

  “Somewhere over Texas,” I say, checking the GPS. “Want to land and get some Tex-Mex?”

  Marv rubs his belly and groans. “Don’t tempt me. Do they have a drive-through at the Houston airport?”

  “It will take too long to land with all of the line-ups,” I say, getting hungry. (The stewardess hasn’t brought me any snacks. I wonder why…) “I can land this thing in the parking lot of Cheesy’s.”

  Marv grins. “Some other time. I have business to take care of.”

  “What are you up to now?”

  Marv’s face lights up with an enthusiastic smile. Nothing gets him happier than making money. “Trying to unload sixty yachts on a prince.” He lets out a booming laugh. “It would be the biggest yacht sale in history.”

  I grin. “Sounds like a good time to ask for a raise.”

  He winces. “Money’s been tight lately. All of my liquidity is tied up in the Siberian pipeline.”

  I can’t help but laugh. What a cheap fuck. He’s got billions sitting in dozens of bank accounts across the globe, he owns over twenty companies, nine of them are in the Fortune 500, and his watch costs more than my parents made in their lifetime. But ask him for an inflation-based raise, and suddenly his pockets are empty and he doesn’t have a pot to jerk off in.

  “Fine,” I say, rubbing my chin. “Then let me ask you for something else.”

  “Anything,” he says. Yeah, as long as it’s not money.

  I take a deep breath and hold the air in, letting it burn my throat. “Hire another stewardess. This one is not going to cut it.” It feels wrong as I say it, and I immediately regret it.

  “I need her for something,” he says, looking at me sideways.

  Anger flashes through me. If he’s trying to fuck her, he’s going to have to go through me. I grip the yoke with white knuckles as I wait for him to go on.

  “And I need you,” he continues.

  “For what?”

  Marv shifts in his seat. “I need you and her to pretend like you’re happy owners of one of my yachts.”

  Happy customers? I stifle a laugh. Everyone knows his yachts are pieces of shit.

  “Why?”

  “For the social proof,” Marv explains. “It’s a powerful psychological trick I always use for selling. Why do you think companies bend over backward to get reviews? Why do you think McDonald’s says over ninety-nine billion served? For the social proof. That’s what you two are going to provide for the prince.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “No problem.” I never question Marv when it comes to selling. His bank account alone is proof
that he knows what he’s doing.

  “You’ll be our friends we’re traveling with, but that’s not all,” he says as he reaches out to touch another button on the dash. The look I shoot him makes his hand recoil. “The prince is big on family. It would be better if you two pretend that you’re married.”

  “You two?” I repeat with a raised eyebrow.

  “You and Riley.”

  “HA!” This is getting better and better. “I’ll do it under two conditions.”

  “What are they?”

  “I get to be there when you tell her.” I’m grinning so hard that my cheeks hurt. I can’t wait to see the look of anger on her face when Marv tells her that she has to act like my wife. It’s going to be epic.

  “Done,” he says while he adjusts the special edition Rolex on his wrist. Marv claims the watch was a gift from Obama, but I saw him buy it in Dubai. “What’s the second condition?”

  This is probably a bad idea but it feels so right. “Cancel Riley’s room reservation at the hotel.”

  He dips his head as he turns to me. “You want her to sleep in the parking lot?”

  I shake my head. “I want to share a room with her. Break her in a bit. Plus, why would a married couple stay in different rooms? It’s safer this way.”

  “She hates you,” he says, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “Why would you want to put yourself through that misery?”

  I turn back to the clouds. “Just hook it up.”

  He shrugs. “You’re insane.”

  “And you’re addicted to money,” I respond as he thinks about it. “I’ll play nice. Sixty yachts, Marv.”

  He turns to me with dollar signs in his greedy eyes. “Done.” He shakes my hand and nods. “You help me get the sale, and I’ll get rid of Riley after,” he says with a coldness to his voice. “You can pick whichever stripper you want as a stewardess after.”

  I sigh heavily as my stomach suddenly feels knotted. I shouldn’t have asked for Riley to be fired, but the image of Kara’s delicious tits in my face is still lingering in my mind, overriding my better judgment. Tits usually have that effect on me.

  I’m about to tell him that maybe we should give her another chance when he leans toward the door, about to call her over.

  “Let me,” I say, grabbing the handset of the PA system. I click the button and raise it to my smirking mouth. “Paging, Miss Wet T-shirt Contest. Please report to the cock, pit.” My voice rings out through the speakers, and I hear her let out an “ugh” from the galley.

  She storms over with her gorgeous face twisted in anger, but she stops dead when she sees Marv sitting beside me.

  “Hello, Mr. Gladstone,” she says, looking everywhere but at me. “Can I get you anything non-alcoholic while you’re up here in the cockpit?”

  Her body is tense, and her jaw is shut so tight that it would take a crowbar to open it. I chuckle when I look down at her shirt all wrinkled up, probably from drying it with the hand dryer in the bathroom. It still looks good pressed against her full chest, and the thought of her standing topless in the bathroom while she dried it is getting me going again.

  “How is your first day going?” Marv asks her, ignoring her question.

  She huffs out a breath and glances at me for half a second with a look that would send a wild tiger scurrying away in fear. The angry heat from her eyes is so hot that I have to check the altimeter to make sure we’re not flying directly into the sun. We’re good.

  “It’s great,” she says with a voice so tight that it sounds like it’s about to snap. And looking at the way her rigid shoulders are thrust back, the way her hands are clenched into fists, and the way the cute little vein on her neck is popping out, I can tell that she is dangerously close to snapping.

  “This is a rather, how do I say this,” Marv says, scratching his chin as he looks up at the ceiling, “unconventional job.”

  Riley glances over at me nervously as she waits for the reason why this job is so ‘unconventional.’ I can’t imagine what she’s thinking right now, but the tiny blonde hairs on her arms are standing straight up.

  “Sometimes I’m going to ask you to do some things to help out the business,” he says, waving his hands while he explains it.

  “Okay,” she says warily. She has barely taken a breath since she arrived.

  “As I mentioned,” Marv goes on, “I have a potential sale for some yachts.”

  She nods. “With Prince Kalib.”

  “Right,” Marv says, snapping his fingers. “Well, he’s really big on family.”

  “The guy with the sixty-woman harem is big on family?” she asks as she rolls her eyes. “Makes sense.”

  “I just need a small favor,” Marv says. I bite my tongue in anticipation to see her reaction. She’s going to flip.

  “What is it?” she asks, subconsciously taking a step back.

  Marv takes in a breath. “I need you to pretend that you’re married.”

  She glances at me with nervous eyes and then takes another step back. “To who?”

  Marv presents me with his hands like a Barker Beauty presenting the world’s shittiest prize. “With Dex.”

  She crosses her arms over those beautiful breasts and glares at me. “I’d rather eat glass.”

  Marv drops his head in frustration. He curses under his breath before raising his head back up with a wide smile on his lips. “It would mean a lot to me.”

  Riley turns her head and seems to be looking for something behind her.

  “What are you doing?” Marv asks.

  “Looking for that parachute,” she answers.

  “Better jump fast,” I say with a grin. “We’re going to be over the Gulf of Mexico shortly.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while,” Marv says. My ears perk up. So do hers. “I’ll give you an extra vacation day.”

  She laughs. “I want a ten percent commission.”

  Marv jerks his head back like he’s been slapped. I stare at Riley in awe. I didn’t know she had it in her. It makes me wonder what else I had wrong about her.

  “Point one percent,” Marv answers, glaring at her. The smiles are gone. It’s all business now, and Marv may be a dope with some things, but he’s a ruthless shark when he has his business hat on.

  Riley stands her ground with her arms crossed. The vein in her neck is getting larger as she goes toe to toe, negotiating with a billionaire. “Five percent,” she counters.

  “Half a percent,” Marv shoots back.

  I pull out the calculator on my phone and work out the math. At two million dollars a yacht, she stands to gain six hundred thousand dollars. My mouth drops.

  “Deal,” she says, shaking his hand.

  “Great,” Marv says, jumping out of the seat before I can find my voice again. I’m too stunned to talk.

  “Marv!” I finally call out as he hurries past Riley. “Wait a second!”

  “We already shook on it,” he calls out from the hallway as he hurries back to his seat. That mother-fucker!

  She’s getting over half a million dollars, and all I get is to share a hotel room with her cold ass. She’s hot as fuck, but even a week-long sex marathon with her wouldn’t be worth six hundred thousand dollars.

  She bites her bottom lip as she grins at me. Maybe it would.

  “Do you hear that, hubby?” she asks with a smug look on her face. “That’s the sound of me getting rich.”

  “The parachute is on that shelf,” I say pointing to the wall behind her. “If you still want to use it.”

  She shakes her head. Her eyes are beaming. “I’m not leaving until I get paid. Then I’ll jump out with a parachute made out of one hundred-dollar bills.”

  And I’ll still be here sitting on my broke ass.

  “Then prepare your waitress station for landing,” I say, turning away from her with heat flushing through my body.

  “I’m a flight attendant,” she hisses. “Not a waitress, not a wet t-shirt contest contestant, and not your fri
end.”

  I throw her a lazy salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And when I get my big commission check,” she says, clasping her hands together. “I’m going to be a pilot.”

  Her excitement is starting to piss me off. I didn’t think to ask for a commission, but now I’m stuck. Marv would never go back on a handshake.

  My lip curls up into a smirk as she starts dancing behind me. That happiness won’t last. She’s about to be very pissed off when she sees where she’s staying.

  In my room.

  Chapter Four

  Riley

  Mr. Gladstone is yammering in my ear for the forty minutes it takes for the limousine to get from the Cayman Islands airport to our five-star resort. He’s not even talking to me. He’s on the phone yelling about some shipments that were sent to Yemen instead of Vietnam. How can someone fuck that up?

  Kara is sitting across from me giving me dirty looks, and Dex is beside her, glancing at my legs every few minutes.

  We pull up to our hotel, The Turtle Cove, and I let out a gasp. Apparently, it’s the nicest resort in the Cayman Islands, and so far-from the look of the front lobby-it’s living up to its reputation. There are towering palm trees swaying in the hot Caribbean breeze, flowers of all sizes, shapes, and colors, and tons of workers running around making it look like a human ant hill.

  Two concierge agents meet us with cold glasses of champagne and they’re welcoming me to the resort before I even step foot out of the limousine. Traveling rich does have its perks.

  I take a sip and moan as the cool bubbles tingle in my mouth and find their way up to my nose.

  “Don’t spill it,” Dex whispers in my ear as he reaches past me for a champagne flute.

  I should pour it over his head. I owe him a champagne shower.

  Mr. Gladstone bursts out of the limousine and storms up the steps as he yells at the poor sucker on the other end of the line. The concierge agents look at each other in a panic, and then the older-looking one chases after him. Kara follows them both, looking bored as usual.

  “My name is Preston, and I’ll be your personal concierge,” the agent says. “Are you traveling with Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone?”