Playboy Pilot

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Playboy Pilot Page 4

by Penelope Ward


  A familiar site at the opposite corner of the beach caught my eye. “Come on. I know exactly what we’re gonna do.”

  A small sign on a stick buried in the sand read, Samba na Agua.

  “What is this?”

  “They do samba lessons on the beach at sunset here. They take tips, but it’s free. I happened to be walking by one night and got roped into a dance by some old lady once. You wanna try it?”

  Kendall’s smile lit up her face. “Sure.” What little sun was left seemed to shine into her aquamarine eyes. Seeing her smile like that made me realize just how naturally beautiful she really was and how damn good it felt bringing her joy. I couldn’t quite figure out why making her happy was so important to me, considering I barely knew her. But there was a gnawing voice inside of me that seemed to whisper, “Pay attention. This girl is important.” I couldn’t explain it and sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Maria to investigate.

  The samba lessons didn’t turn out exactly as I’d hoped. I was thinking I’d get to use it as an excuse to make physical contact with Kendall, but they’d assigned her to dance with an old man instructor. That gave me no choice but to dance with his female counterpart. Probably made sense, since neither Kendall nor I knew what we were doing. Still, I enjoyed watching her trip over her feet as she laughed and looked over at me doing the same

  Quick. Quick. Slow.

  Quick. Quick. Slow.

  Even across the sand from each other, we were connecting somehow in that experience. A thrill shot through me as I realized I was going to get to sleep next to her again tonight. Then, I quickly mentally slapped myself in the head for getting excited over a girl I might never see again after this trip…and whom I’d vowed not to touch.

  Quick. Quick. Slow the fuck down, Carter.

  We’d have one more full day tomorrow before I had to leave for the airport the following night. I realized I didn’t even know where she lived. It was time to break out the truth serum. In Brazil, that was otherwise known as Caipirinha.

  “WHAT’S IN THIS? It’s strong…but good.”

  “It’s lime, sugar, and Cachaça.”

  Kendall giggled. “Say that again.”

  “Cachaça.” I smiled.

  “I love when you speak Portugese, Captain.”

  “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  We’d stopped at the small bar on the beach. After a couple of drinks there, we took the last round to go in SOLO cups and continued our party sitting on the sand.

  “So, Kendall Sparks. You love when I speak Portugese. What else do you love? I need to know more about my travel companion.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “For starters, you never told me where you’re from. What do you do for a living?”

  “I live in Texas. I come from a family of oil magnates. I work on and off for the family business but don’t really have a clear career path.”

  “Was that so hard?”

  “I don’t always like telling people about my family. There are a lot of preconceived notions about people from wealthy backgrounds.”

  “Your economic status doesn’t define who you are any more than my job defines me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were an airline pilot when we first met?”

  I dug my feet into the sand and thought about my answer. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, really. It just never came up. I would’ve told you eventually if we’d had more time together. I was secretly hoping you would choose Rio, though, so I could surprise you. Why did you do it by the way?”

  “Choose Rio?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I had to make a decision.”

  “There was no part of you that took that flight because you thought I might be on it? I was obviously trying to give you hints.”

  Even though it was dark, I could still see her cheeks blush. “What do you want me to say? That I’m attracted to you and flew across the world because you gave me your jacket?”

  Yes.

  “If that’s the honest answer, then yeah. What’s wrong with just being honest? People spend half their lives bullshitting. Why can’t we be upfront with each other?”

  I laughed inwardly. Yeah, right. Then why don’t you tell her you were whacking off with her panties on your face?

  Some things are better kept a secret.

  “Go ahead and ask me anything you want. I’m not going to lie to you, Kendall.”

  She finished off the last of her drink. “Anything?”

  Looking deeply into her eyes, I repeated, “Anything.”

  She gazed up at the sky. “How many of the stewardesses on that flight have you slept with?”

  “All but one.” I swallowed.

  “All but the lesbian.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Why is it disgusting? Because I’m a single guy who fornicates? It’s just sex among adults who live a similar lifestyle. I’m responsible. I use protection. I don’t promise them anything I can’t deliver. The majority of the time, I’m the one who’s being approached.”

  I realized all of that made me sound cold, but it was the truth.

  “You don’t want anything more than that? A deeper connection with someone?”

  “I didn’t say that. But it’s just the way things have been up until now.” Taking her empty plastic cup and stacking it inside mine, I asked, “What about you? No boyfriend?”

  “No. Not at the moment.”

  “Why? I’m pretty sure you could have any guy you want.”

  Looking conflicted, she paused before saying, “I’m in a time of transition.”

  “The reason you’re running away. Does it have to do with a man?”

  “No. It doesn’t.”

  “You can talk to me about anything. I won’t judge.”

  “You can’t promise that if you don’t know what it is.”

  “How bad could it be? Does it involve murder?”

  “No.”

  “Then, you’re good.”

  She chuckled, looking so beautiful with the ocean breeze blowing around her blonde waves. “I barely know you. I can’t open up about everything going on with me after knowing you for less than a day.”

  “I bet it would only take a minute for me to know everything I needed to about you, Kendall.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The important points in anyone’s life can be summed up in under a minute. Most of the mundane stuff that happens in between is insignificant.” I took out my phone and handed it to her. “Wanna test it? Go to the stopwatch feature and time me. I’ll tell you all about me in thirty seconds.”

  She opened the timer. “Okay. Go,” she said, pressing start.

  “Carter Clynes. Also known as Triple C, which stands for Captain Carter Clynes, sometimes shortened to Trip. Almost thirty years old. Grew up in Michigan. Class clown. Catholic family. Parents still together. Two sisters. One girlfriend. Broke her heart before I went away to college. University of Michigan. Played the field. Dropped out. Went to flight school. Fly all the time now. Get lonely sometimes. Own a condo in Boca. One niece, one nephew. Upfront person. Love pizza and every kind of music. Horny as hell. Sitting on the beach in Rio.”

  That was pretty much it. It’s funny how a life could be dumbed down to just a handful of details. Of course, there was one thing I chose to leave out. Not that I wouldn’t tell her, but it was neither the right time nor place to elaborate on Lucy, so I chose to omit the one not-so-minor detail that had basically shaped who I am.

  “Wow. That was exactly thirty seconds.”

  “Now you know almost everything you need to know.”

  She squinted. “Almost?”

  Ignoring her question, I grabbed the phone for the timer. “Your turn.”

  “Hang on. I have to think.”

  “No. That defeats the purpose. You’re not supposed to think about it. Just say the first things that come to mind. Those are the most significant
details.”

  She took in a deep breath, and I started the timer.

  “Okay. Kendall Sparks. Dallas, Texas. Twenty-four. Only child of rich parents who blew through most of their money. Grew up on a ranch. High school cheerleader. Father is dead now. Mother is an alcoholic. I skipped college. Worked on and off for the family business. Charmed life on the outside but not so much on the inside. Unsure of where I fit in this world. Scared for the future. Sitting on the beach in Rio.”

  When she looked down away from me, I placed my hand on her chin, bringing her eyes toward mine. “That last part is nice, though, isn’t it? Our one commonality.”

  Closing her eyes briefly, she said, “I have to say…it is.”

  “Thank you for sharing this time with me, Perky.”

  I stood up, and she followed me as we walked back in the direction of Maria Rosa’s.

  “What are we going to do tomorrow?” she asked.

  “That’s the beauty of a vacation, right? We don’t have to decide.”

  “I suppose.”

  Just before heading back up the hill, we stopped at a shopping plaza. I noticed a lingerie shop. An idea popped into my head. I was hesitant to leave her alone, but I didn’t want her to see what I was up to, either.

  “Stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

  When I returned with a small plastic bag, she was smiling from ear to ear.

  “What did you do?”

  “I bought you a present.” Handing it to her, I said, “It’s for tomorrow.”

  “Can I open it now?”

  “I insist.”

  She shook her head when she peeked inside and got a look at the white full-coverage bra I bought her. The material was completely opaque. It was the unsexiest bra I’d ever seen.

  “This reminds me of the Cross Your Heart bra my grandmother would have worn.”

  “Did I get your size right?”

  “Actually, you’re close. I’m 34B, and this is 36B. It’ll fit.” She draped it over her chest. “Well, there is definitely no way anything is showing through this material.”

  “Exactly. If I have to be good, they can’t be saluting me every second of the day. It’s too tempting.”

  “I do own a bra, you know.” She laughed. “I just don’t wear it. But I’ll wear this if I’ve been distracting you.”

  “It’s more of a joke than anything. But you should consider wearing one if you’re traveling alone.”

  A bad feeling at the pit of my stomach developed at the thought of her continuing this trip by herself. I definitely wasn’t ready to leave her after tomorrow.

  “Thank you for looking out for me, Captain.”

  “Anytime.”

  We were halfway back to Maria’s when I said, “Kendall…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to hold your hand.” My mouth curved into a smile. She immediately got it.

  “I Want To Hold Your Hand. The Beatles song. I thought you were serious for a split second.”

  Laughing, I said, “Actually, I am serious. Very serious. Can I?” I reached out my hand.

  She handed me hers. “Yes.” Her fingers looked so tiny intertwined with my large ones.

  I didn’t let go the entire way back. The truth was, I wanted to do a hell of a lot more than hold her hand…I wanted to wrap my entire body around her.

  Too bad there wasn’t a Beatles song titled, I Want to Ravage You. Would have been way more appropriate for how I was feeling at the moment.

  IF I WAS GOING TO BE a fucking panty sniffer, I might as well go all in and shoot for the title of biggest piece of shit of the year. I’d just taken a long morning piss and had to practically bend over the bowl to get my wood down enough to be able to aim for the water. Kendall was still sleeping in the bed, and my self-control was slipping. Not that I’d spent very much of my life actually practicing controlling myself. But this girl made me want to.

  Last night, when it was time for bed, I could see she was uncomfortable. I was pretty damn uncomfortable too, but mostly because I had a stiff cock that I’d been trying to talk down for at least an hour after she’d changed into that paper-thin nightshirt and short shorts. So being the chivalrous man that I’m not usually, I insisted on taking the floor to sleep. Now my back was killing me, and I figured there was no harm, no foul if I climbed into bed and got a few hours of good shut-eye on the mattress. It was 4AM, and she wouldn’t find out until morning. By then it’d be too late anyway. So I lifted the sheet and gently slipped into the bed, careful not to shake the mattress too much.

  Kendall had been facing the other way, and when the old wooden bed frame creaked, she turned over in her sleep. I froze and waited to see if her eyes would open. After a minute, she was still in dreamland, so I took some time to openly ogle her. That’s when I noticed the top button of her nightshirt, which had been only buttoned to a low V-neck already, was open. And her entire left tit was on full display. Damn straight those things are perky. And not just the breast itself. The nipple, which was a nice size for a breast that wasn’t more than a good handful, was fully erect. It was pointing at me. Daring me. Inviting me.

  Fuuuuck.

  My mouth was salivating. I wanted to suck on that nipple more than I’d ever wanted to touch any woman.

  Just one little lick.

  She might not even wake up.

  My eyes flicked up to hers. She was sound asleep. I doubted she would even feel it in her current state. I could be gentle. Just flutter my tongue over the swollen little bud, enough to take the smallest of tastes.

  Just one little taste.

  One tiny lick.

  Fuuuuuucck. My head moved a few inches closer to her breast. I was such a piece of shit. I’m pretty sure I went through a real momentary lapse in sanity, because I could have sworn there was a tiny little devil sitting on top of her right shoulder. I could actually hear the thing, see it clear as day. Of course, my devil wasn’t your run of the mill bald, menacing looking man painted red with a tail. No, my devil was a tall brunette with her hair pulled back in a twist, a skimpy flight attendant uniform, and cute little horns on her head. She winked at me and whispered in my ear. Do it. Do it, you pussy. She wants it anyway.

  My conscience responded. She trusts you. Don’t be a dick all your life. Suck it up, dude. Find another pair of panties, you disgusting pig.

  Kendall shifted in her sleep again, this time raising one arm up and over her head. The entire breast was then fully on display. Her skin was creamy, and her nipple was such a deep shade of pink, it was truly a magnificent sight.

  What the fuck is wrong with you, pussy. Suck it. Suck it now. The damn she-devil had grown to twice her size.

  I scrubbed my hands over my eyes to wipe my imagination clean. It didn’t help. Not one bit. My she-devil was unbuttoning her own shirt over Kendall’s shoulder.

  Fuck. I’ve definitely lost it.

  Out of the blue, blocking out the sinful thoughts I was having, a Beatles song popped into my brain. You’re Going to Lose That Girl. The lyrics started playing in my head, and she-devil was smiling and gyrating her hips to the beat.

  Goddamn you, John Fucking Lennon.

  He was right. He’s always damn right.

  Whipping the sheet off me before I could change my mind, I grabbed my running shoes and a baseball cap and took off.

  KENDALL WASN’T IN BED when I returned to the room two hours later. I’d gone for an hour-long run and then sat on the beach to watch the sun rise. The fucked up thing was, I longed for a girl I barely knew to be sitting next to me as it rose over the ocean, almost as bad as I wanted that succulent nipple this morning.

  I was growing soft.

  Although I was generally fucking hard around her.

  I sat down on the bed and began to take off my shoes when Kendall came out of the bathroom. “Hey. Where’d you disappear to so early?”

  “I went for a run.”

  “You should have woken me. I would’ve gone with you.”


  I wanted to wake you, trust me.

  “You looked so cute sleeping, smiling with one hand down your pants. I couldn’t ruin that for you,” I lied and winked.

  Her eyes widened to saucers. “You’re lying.”

  I shrugged. “Maybe.”

  She punched me in the abs and laughed.

  “Careful there, little girl. Don’t want you to break that fragile little hand on my rock hard six-pack.”

  “You’re so full of yourself.” She smiled and shook her head as she walked to the bed. Climbing on, she sat Indian-style and pulled a book from the end table. Eyewitness Travel: Top 10 Rio de Janeiro.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “It was in the end table.”

  “It’s in English?”

  “No. But I was looking at the pictures.”

  She is so fucking cute. “Anything spark your interest, Sparks?”

  Her face lit up when she spoke again. “Everything! To be honest, my idea of traveling is usually finding those few blocks of high-end stores and shopping all day. Then going to a fancy restaurant to show off what I bought. My mom trained me well. The only difference between us is, I don’t generally have eight whisky sours and plant my face in the spaghetti bolognese. I’m not sure what it is about this place. Maybe it’s being here at Maria Rosa’s, but I want to see everything.” She paused and started to flip through pages she had dog-eared. “The train up to Sugar Loaf Mountain, the Christ the Redeemer statue, Tijuca Forest—the giant waterfalls, the favelas…I want to see it all!”

  “That’s an awfully tall order for one day.”

  Her bright smile fell. “I wish we had more than one day.”

  There was no way in the world I would ever be able to deny this woman anything that made her face light up like that. I scratched my chin. “You know what? I have an idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I think it should be a surprise.”

  “I love surprises!”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have left this morning then.

  “Alright. You trust your life in my hands for today?”

  “It was in your hands for an entire plane ride. So I don’t see why not.”

 

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