His words, icy cold, sounded as though they came from between clenched teeth.
The air between them crackled. She remained staring, unseeing, at the magazine.
“Oh, this is ridiculous!” His growl made more heads turn.
“Hello sir, is there a problem?” The young male flight attendant appeared.
Frankie looked up, catching the cool gaze of the attendant.
“Yes. This woman will not allow me to take my seat. Kindly find me a window seat elsewhere. I refuse to sit next to her all the way to Seattle.”
“That is completely untrue. His seat is vacant, as you can see.” Her clipped words made the flight attendant flinch.
“Now madam, perhaps if you stand up so that Mr., er—” he glanced down at the man’s boarding pass, “—Jardine, can take his seat.”
The man’s voice rose several decibels. “I want a different seat!”
The flight attendant’s face turned pink. “Sir, this flight is full. There are no other vacant seats.”
“Then find someone to swap with me.” He thrust his face in the attendant’s face.
“Sir, calm down.”
A second flight attendant hurried along the aisle. “Sir, you are holding up takeoff. Kindly take your seat and remain quiet, or we will have you removed from this flight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Threatening airline crew is a federal offense. Either take your seat, remain quiet and calm, or you will be escorted from the plane by security.”
A smirk twitched at the corners of her mouth. That’ll teach him to be an arrogant bastard, she thought. She stole a glance at him, scanning from his shiny black shoes, up his long—very long—legs, to the well-cut suit that didn’t disguise broad shoulders and an athletic build. It was a pity he was such an asshole. She would bet money that he was good in bed.
The senior attendant bent his head toward her. “My apologies for this…disruption, madam. Are you OK?”
She gazed into the young man’s eyes, ensuring there was no hint on her face of the amusement that she felt.
“I’m…a little shaken, of course, but perhaps once I…relax on the flight I’ll be all right. Thank you for asking.” She sneaked a quick glance into the furious, red, and sweating face of her nemesis, Mr. Jardine, who was staring at the fuselage ceiling only inches above his tall head.
“I’ll organize complimentary champagne once we’re at cruising height, madam. How does that sound?” The flight attendant kept his voice low, conspiratorial.
“Oh, you’re very kind. Yes, that sounds quite lovely.”
“Now, let me help you out so that Mr. Jardine can take his seat. We’re already way behind in our schedule.”
“Certainly.”
She flashed her most charming smile at both the flight attendants, stood up, and moved into the aisle.
The angry, seething man squeezed past, glowering at her. When he was seated, she resumed her seat. As they both fumbled for their seat belts, their hands touched. She wondered if she imagined the crackle of electricity that shot through the air as their skin made contact. Mr. Jardine was clearly flustered now, the embarrassment of the last ten minutes overshadowing his arrogance and anger. She, on the other hand, felt like a cat settling back to groom herself after a victorious battle with a mouse. Superior, calm, regal.
The plane took off into the dark skies above LaGuardia Airport. As it tilted into a turn, she glanced across the plane to see the twinkling lights of Queens below. The dimmed cabin lights hid Mr. Jardine’s features, but instead of him peering out at the spectacular view below as she expected, she caught his silhouette as he sat rigid in his seat, staring forward. She noticed the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and wondered if he was still seething inside.
Soon, the cabin lights came on and the flight attendants wheeled trolleys of beverages out from the small galley right opposite where she sat. When the first trolley moved up the aisle, the senior attendant who had spoken to her earlier approached.
“Is everything all right, madam?” He cast a suspicious glance at the man sitting next to her.
She looked up at him. “Seems to be. Although I’d feel a lot more comfortable sitting elsewhere.”
“I know. I’ve checked. There are no other males traveling on their own. I have no one to swap with you.”
“And did you check in business class?” She raised her eyebrows hopefully.
He shook his head. “Afraid not. This plane couldn’t hold an extra flea tonight. Sorry.” His face brightened. “How about a glass of Veuve Clicquot?”
She smiled. “Ooh, yes please.”
The attendant disappeared into the galley across the aisle from her.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” The sound of his voice, so low and menacing, made her jump. “Is this how you get free upgrades to business class? I’d say you’re a seasoned hand at this…performance. Quite worthy of an Academy Award.”
She smiled coyly. “Sometimes, like tonight, I’m only runner-up. Second prize is free Veuve Clicquot.”
The attendant arrived with a tray, a flute of sparkling bubbles resting on it.
“Here we are.”
She spread her most disarming smile across her face. “Oh thank you—” she glanced at his name tag, “—Troy. My companion here, Mr. Jardine, is rather shaken up and could use a glass of this himself.” She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to one side.
The attendant looked from her to Mr. Jardine, and then back to her again. “It’s not strictly possible, madam. This man is on watch given his behavior earlier.”
She pouted, her full lips extended provocatively. “Aw, couldn’t you do it…for me?” she whispered.
“Well,” the attendant glanced quickly behind him. “Well, OK.”
She turned to look at Mr. Jardine. His glare was enough to burn holes in her eyes.
“I do not need your charity.” He spat the words at her.
“Oh, come now. It’s the least I can do.”
The attendant arrived with a second glass of champagne and handed it across to Mr. Jardine. When he didn’t take it, the attendant unclipped the tray from the back of the seat in front, and then placed the drink on it.
“Mr. Jardine. Do you have a first name? I’m Frances, but my friends call me Frankie.” She lifted her glass to him.
He leaned his head back against the headrest, closed his eyes, and sighed loudly. Then very slowly, a smirk twitched the corners of his mouth. It spread gradually, like molten lava from a volcano, and smothered his shapely lips. He opened his eyes, reached down and picked up the flute.
He turned to look at her, raised his glass, and touched it to hers.
“Touché, Frankie.” He took a deep sip of the golden bubbles. “Here’s to the oldest trick in the book.”
She tilted her head, not sure what he meant.
“James. James Jardine. And may I be the first to congratulate you on your…performance. You beat mine hands down.” His smile reached his eyes. He was so handsome now. Gone was the spoiled child arrogance of earlier. “Whenever an upgrade isn’t on the table, the most I’ve ever got is a few free beers.”
“You…you mean…”
“Yes. I hate traveling back here, but can’t afford to fly business class. It’s worth kicking up a fuss to try and get an upgrade for free.”
“But, your boarding pass… The window seat…”
He laughed. “I always carry a fine-point black pen and change it. The attendants are busy getting everyone on board so the plane takes off on time that they hardly glance at it.” His gaze caught hers. “The window seat is rightfully yours. Would you like to swap?”
She could hardly believe her ears. This man, this charlatan, this…drop-dead gorgeous hunk…used the same method as she did to get a free upgrade. She shook her head.
“Gotta hand it to you, James. You’re good!” She took a deep sip of the champagne. “Congratulations.”
> “Ah, but I very nearly got ejected. That’s the first time that’s happened. I was really worried there for a while. You’re exceptional, Frankie. Very exceptional.”
They both drained their flutes. Frankie reached down and pressed the attendant call button. Troy was there in a flash.
“More champagne?”
“Yes, please. Thanks, Troy.”
* * *
Troy ensured that when dinner was served, Frankie and her odd companion received business class three-course meals with complimentary wine.
Having found something in common—their penchant for dishonesty—Frankie and James enjoyed each other’s company. As the bottle of Veuve was emptied, they more than enjoyed just talking to each other. Subtle little touches on hands, knees brushing, and—when James lifted the dividing armrest between them—the sensuous pressure of thigh to thigh, heated things up in the back row of Flight 319 to Seattle.
“Why Seattle?” He regarded her with interest. “Work, maybe?”
She shook her head. “No. My life is in New York. But my boyfriend is in Seattle.”
“Wow, that’s a long commute for…well, let’s just say it’s a long way to, er, maintain a…normal relationship.”
She laughed, surprising even herself at how seductive she sounded. “There’s not too much that’s normal about our relationship.”
Just thinking about some of the things Tom did to her made her crotch twitch. She tried to cross her legs, but there wasn’t enough room. Instead, she twisted so that she sat almost side on to James, facing him, only one butt cheek resting on the seat.
His eyes widened. “Oh yeah? That sounds…mighty, er, interesting.”
She leaned forward, flicked a glance into the gap between the two seats in front. The elderly couple appeared to be snoozing. Still, she leaned even closer to James and whispered.
“Tom likes cuffs. And every time we…get together…he always surprises me with new toys. New games.”
Little beads of sweat broke out across James’s forehead. She took a peek at his trousers, pleased to see a rather large protrusion in the area of his groin. She looked back up at his eyes, then back down at his bulging trousers.
“Lord knows what he’s got in store for me this weekend. He said it’s a Valentine’s Day surprise.” Her words came out breathy and she felt her panties moistening rapidly. “I’m hoping it has something to do with sexy underwear, or lingerie. Maybe a sexy burlesque-style corset. Crotchless, of course. I love those.”
His face took on a pained expression and his hands moved down, pushing hard on his erection.
The cabin lights went out, and the elderly couple in front of them stirred, then reclined their seats. It was as though they were sitting in the back row with James and her, they were so…close.
The flight attendants, finally having a rest from pandering to the never-ending requests for food, drinks, and pillows, retired to the galleys dotted along the plane. Troy and the other younger steward moved toward the rear of the plane, heading for their galley opposite where she sat. As they passed, Troy paused.
“All OK here?”
“Just great, Troy. Just great.” She had trouble forming her words correctly. That bottle of champagne, plus the dinner wine, had made her feel quite tipsy.
Troy nodded and entered the galley, closing the folding door behind him.
In the near-darkness, she reached over and placed her hand on James’s bulge, but it had diminished somewhat in the last minute or so. She undid his zipper and slid her forefinger and thumb inside in search of James’s weapon.
His penis jumped to attention, eager to be clasped by the deft fingers now caressing it. She slid the rest of her hand inside his trousers and held his shaft in her hand, then gently tugged it up and down. No longer able to contain it, his trousers gave up the fight and his erection popped out, standing to attention. She bent over him, and slid her mouth over the tip of his cock. She ran her tongue over the slit, licking and sucking at it like a lollypop.
James groaned slightly, and she lifted her mouth for a second.
“Shh.”
Then she placed her lips back on him and swallowed him deeply. He had a sizeable penis; fantastic, in fact. But one of her areas of expertise was her ability to swallow whatever came her way. She pumped him up and down with her mouth, her tongue lapping and licking him. His balls, still trapped inside his trousers, must be aching, she thought. Oh well, time to visit them later.
Her panties felt awash now with her own desire. She wished there was more room so she could have James rub her while she worked on his cock.
She felt his shaft stiffen in her mouth and sensed he was about to come. Hm, this could get messy. Only one thing for it. He shuddered, jerked, and then his hot, sweet, liquid burst on the back of her throat.
A loud, satisfied snore from the old lady who reclined only inches away, infiltrated the moment. Well, she thought, maybe not the Mile High Club exactly, but even Tom hasn’t had a head job from me thirty thousand feet in the air.
She sat up, and then walked a little shakily to the bathroom further up the aisle.
* * *
When she returned to her seat, several of the flight attendants were sidling swiftly up and down the aisles to avoid contacting any of the more overweight passengers whose shoulders extended out into the passageway.
Seeing the activity annoyed her. She’d been hoping that James would reciprocate and help her to expend some of her sexual urges. Lord knows, she was born horny. There was never a moment of the day when she didn’t want to be screwed within an inch of her life. But helping James out had turned her normal urges into a matter of urgency. If she didn’t get relief soon, she’d explode.
She squeezed into her seat behind the old man whose open-mouthed face was perilously close. James, also reclined back and looking comfortable, had his eyes closed.
“You better not be asleep.” She prodded his rib cage with her finger. He jumped and his eyelids jerked open.
“I was savoring the feeling of what you just did.” He pressed the button in the arm of the chair and the back of his seat shot forward. He peered down at the old lady, also with mouth open, and made a face. “Ugh. That’s not a pretty sight.”
She glanced at her watch. Only two hours until they landed at Sea-Tac Airport. The effects of all the champagne and wine, drunk fairly quickly, was making its presence felt in her bloodstream. Time for a coffee. She pressed the call button and the younger attendant came.
“Black coffee, please.” She turned to James. “Want a coffee too?”
James nodded. “Yeah. Black.”
The attendant nodded and left.
“So James, why are you going to Seattle?” She struggled to get the tray down because of the angle of the chair in front.
“To get married.”
She whipped her head around to look at him, and her eyes felt like they would pop. “You’re kidding me, right?”
He shook his head and appeared quite amused at her shock. “Four o’clock tomorrow. Saint Imelda’s. Would you like to come?” He reached out and tried to grab her hand.
She recoiled, snatching her hand away. “Holy fuck!”
She was slightly embarrassed at her base and uneducated retort, but seriously? This guy? This asshole just let her give him the best head job he was ever likely to get in his whole fucking life, and he’s getting married in a few hours?
“Now don’t go pulling the puritan card. You’ve got a guy waiting for you too.”
“You are getting married tomorrow. Valentine’s Day.” She shook her head. “Have you no shame? You’re cheating on your wife-to-be on the eve of your wedding!”
The flight attendant arrived with their coffees and placed them on their trays.
“Frankie. Tomorrow. Valentine’s Day. February fourteenth.” He leaned toward her, their faces close. “I have a confession.”
“Not another one!”
“I hate flying. I’m terrified of it.” He ran
his hand through his hair. “Heck, why do you think I try to fly business class? Those rich sons-of-bitches never get killed in a crash. It’s the poor bastards way in the back of the plane here who get it.” He suddenly looked pale. “And today is…Friday the thirteenth. I’m in a plane. I’m on the eve of getting married.” His voice faltered. “Holy shit! I’m positive this plane isn’t gonna make it to Sea-Tac in one piece.”
His volume increased, and the old lady in front of him stirred, grunted, and turned so roughly in her seat that his coffee spilled into the saucer.
The relaxed look on James’s face was gone. He appeared visibly shaken now, and his breath came in short gasps.
She reached over and took his hand in hers, then rested it on her lap, running her thumb backward and forward over the back of his hand. The cabin lights dimmed once more and there were no flight attendants to be seen.
She opened her thighs wide and slid his hand under her short skirt. “Well, maybe I can help you take your mind off things.” She thrust his hand up until his fingers touched her wet pussy. A tingle of excitement zapped through her. She slid down in the seat so that her knees rested hard up against the back of the old man’s chair.
She glanced at James. A faint film of perspiration on his forehead glinted in the soft glow from another passenger’s reading light, but his face seemed less stressed than before. He rubbed her through the sopping thong from her clit down as far as he could. She longed to cry out, it was so delicious. When she felt his fingers pulling her panties aside, she gripped the arm of her chair tightly. His fingers slid easily on her slick bare skin, sending shudders through her. He caressed her clit and concentrated on the nub, rolling it around, causing her to take a sharp intake of breath.
Without warning, the back of the old man’s seat sprung forward and she slipped off her seat, wedged now in a most unglamorous way with her ass almost touching the floor and her legs wide open. James made a grab for her, just as the old man reached up and turned on the reading light.
She moaned, sounding like she was hurt, but she was more worried about the loss of James’s fingers touching her folds than the sharp pain in the small of her back where she was jammed up against the seat.
Valentines Heat IV Page 6