Flights of Fantasy

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Flights of Fantasy Page 1

by Mina Carter




  Flights of Fantasy

  Mina Carter

  New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

  Copyright © 2011 by Mina Carter

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Epilogue

  Also by Mina Carter

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  “Fuck. No, not now. You can’t do this to me!”

  Kyla Anderson moaned in despair as she stood in the middle of checking in. The surge of foot traffic welled around her, the noise as people rushed to check in ignored as she stared at the object in her hand. In the last year, she’d been through a messy divorce, lost her home, most of her self-confidence… Now her Kindle was dead.

  “Please, baby, come back to me.” Her tone held a begging note as she waggled the device, hoping beyond hope for a glimmer of life. Its screen remained stubbornly blank. “Please? I promise to treat you right and not let you run out of charge. I’ll even buy you a fancy new cover. How about that?”

  The Kindle’s gray screen mocked her and her pathetic attempt to rebuild her life after Robert the rat. She sighed and fought the prickle of tears. Yet another thing she’d lost.

  The Kindle had been her constant support when things were bad at home. She’d had to hide money away from her ex and save to get one, but at least with it by her side she had been able to escape, slip into a thousand different worlds and be a thousand different characters as she read and lived their stories. She didn’t care who the characters were. All that mattered was escaping the misery of her marriage and the trap she was in.

  But that was all over now. She was a free woman. More than that, she was the one in charge. After years trying and being ridiculed by Robert for her dreams, she’d finally done it. She was a published author. A best-selling published author on her way to her first book signing. And an unexpected inheritance ensured she could concentrate on her new career rather than juggle it with the dead-end job she’d been in.

  So what did it matter that the reader had died? She could get another one. All she had to do was walk into a store and pick one up. She could even get one here, if she wanted. No asking for money from Robert, not ever again. Head high, she tucked the dead Kindle into her bag and approached the desk to check in.

  The airline was efficient. Clearing security, she walked through into the departures lounge and parked herself near one of the information screens. Apprehension started to mount. A fine shimmer moved through her veins like the bubbles in good champagne. She hated flying. Well, okay, hated was a bit strong. She disliked flying, which was why she’d packed her Kindle to the brim for the flights. When she read, she blocked everything else out to concentrate on the story. A coping mechanism from her life with Robert and one that would help her on the two flights she had to take to get to the book signing. Trust her to live on the opposite side of the country.

  Casting a glance out the windows that made up one wall of the lounge, she spied the behemoths lurking outside. Men and women scurried around them, operating trucks and ladders as the planes were loaded. Panic coalesced in her chest and clamped a hard hand around her stomach. She couldn’t do this, not without something to read. Giving in to the inevitable, she stood with a sigh and went to look for a bookstore or kiosk.

  A paperback clutched in her hand, Kyla boarded the plane in plenty of time. She hated to be late. Absolutely loathed and detested it. Even the thought of it made her ill. If anything, she made sure to be five minutes early to avoid that clawing feeling of panic.

  Academically she was aware that what her ex-husband had referred to as “pickiness” was probably more along the lines of a psychological problem. She twisted her lips into a wry line as she was shown to her seat. If it was a mental problem, it would have to get in line behind all the rest. She had issues with self-confidence, self-worth and body image to deal with first. She could live with the need to be early for appointments.

  Settling in, she arranged herself neatly. To her surprise, the seats were more comfortable and roomy than she’d expected. But then again, this was business class, a rare treat she allowed herself from the money she’d been left. She’d only ever flown economy before, crammed in with other holidaymakers until they resembled sardines.

  Ten minutes later, the novelty of the roomy seats had worn off. Claustrophobia warred with her fear of flying as she looked around for an attendant. Everyone seemed to be on the plane so what could be taking so long? Was there a problem with the plane? The thought took hold and turned her dislike of flying into full-on panic. She knew it. The wings were going to fall off.

  A blue-suited attendant appeared at the front of the cabin, her pleasant and professional smile designed to put nervous passengers at ease. Before Kyla could open her mouth, a female passenger nearer the front of the cabin spoke.

  “Excuse me, miss, but is everything okay?”

  The attendant smiled reassuringly as she walked down the aisle, her gaze sharp as she checked for unstowed luggage.

  “Yes ma’am, everything’s fine. I’m sorry for the delay, but we had a late check-in. Ah…sounds like he’s here now. I do apologize, there should have been an announcement.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at movement near the back of the cabin. “We should be taking off shortly.”

  At the mention of a late check-in, all Kyla’s nerves disappeared, to be replaced by irritation. There wasn’t a problem with the plane after all, instead she and her fellow passengers were simply victims of someone else’s lax attitude and lack of consideration for others.

  Lips compressed into a disapproving line, she watched the commotion at the front of the cabin. The way the attendants were primping and preening, twittering about like blonde bimbos, anyone would think the cream of Hollywood was about to board.

  “Great. Just friggin’ great.” Her panic starting to recede, she grabbed her book. She let her fingers drift through the pages. It had been so long since she’d read a physical book that she’d forgotten what a wonderfully tactile experience it was. The crinkle of the cover, the waft of the pages and that “new book” smell.

  She flicked a glance at her purse, the dead Kindle hidden in its depths. So many books she’d planned to read… At least she’d managed to find something interesting in the book kiosk. After being told Kindles were out of stock she’d despaired, but thankfully they’d had a good selection of paperbacks to choose from. Turning the book over, she looked at the cover. Paranormal romance, so there was a ripped, naked-to-the-waist guy on the front with the requisite tattoo perched on his biceps. His rather nice biceps.

  Lick test!

  The voice of her partner in crime, Rya Stephens, filled her mind and forced a smile. Both authors, the two women spent hours debating the pros and cons of different leading men for their stories. Picking their victims from the ranks of Hollywood, no one was safe.

  “Good book?”

  The deep male voice slid along her skin like warm silk, raising the small hairs on the surface and caressing them with a lover’s touch. Startled, she looked up and fell into a gaze as blue-green as a tropical ocean. That wasn’t all that reminded her of the sea as her gaze wandered outward. Blond, longish hair fell casually around his neck in a surfer’s cut, kissing the neckline of a black shirt pulled tight over solid muscles and broad shoulders. The hard lines and planes of his features lent him a masculine beauty. A familiar beauty, one she’d seen…and lusted over…many times on
the silver screen.

  Alex Richards, heartthrob and action-hero extraordinaire, stood right in front of her. Kyla’s ability to breathe hightailed it over the horizon along with her logical thought processes. Alex Richards. Here. All six foot ripped gorgeousness of him within touching distance…within nibbling distance.

  She whimpered as the book dropped from her hand. Gleefully, it bounced off the arm of her chair and made like a lemming for the floor. Cheeks aflame, she made a grab for it the same moment Alex did. Their hands, then their heads, collided with a crack.

  “Ouch!” She pulled back and rubbed her forehead ruefully as Alex chased down the wayward book. Oh fuck, she’d met Alex Richards. And head-butted him.

  “Someone shoot me now…” she muttered to herself and raised her voice to apologize. “I really am sorry, Mr. Richards. I didn’t expect you to grab it too.”

  He stood, book in one hand as the other rubbed at his head. The movement did nothing but artfully tousle his blond hair. Hair she’d give anything to drive her hands into as she reached up to kiss his full lip…

  Stop that right now, young lady. No fantasies while on the plane.

  “No problem. And it’s Alex,” he corrected her firmly. “Your book….”

  She knew the trailing off was a hint to give her name. Of course she knew that. Did she give her name? No.

  “Thanks, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Grabbing the book back, she sat on it so it couldn’t cause any more trouble. “I’m not normally this clumsy.”

  Or prattle on this much, she added silently. His expression was somewhere between confused and amused, his lips quirking at the corner.

  “A lady of mystery. How intriguing.”

  As she watched, he twisted and slid the pack off his back. Then she was nose to skin with his entirely lickable six-pack abs as he stowed the bag in the overhead compartment. Panic froze her in place, unable to do anything but look as his t-shirt lifted, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of skin to her interested perusal.

  Oh my god, those jeans were low-slung. Fire filled her cheeks as she got a glimpse of the edge of a tattoo low on his stomach. An uncomfortable heat raced around her body, making her skin tingle and her breasts ache. Neither compared to the sudden, savage throbbing between her thighs. How long was it since she’d had sex? Too long.

  The skin between her shoulder blades prickled. He was still looking at her. Resisting the urge to hide her flame-red face behind the covers of her book, she looked up. Thank god he couldn’t read her mind. He was twenty-eight, so she had a decade on him. He was young and gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted, including any of the flight attendants by the look of it. The last thing he’d want would be a thirty-something author lusting after him.

  “Yes…can I help you?” she asked when he didn’t move.

  “Yeah…” He flashed a rueful grin. “Actually, there seems to be some mix-up. You’re sitting in my seat.”

  Kyla paled as the blood drained from her face. Could today get any worse?

  Alex Richards was sitting next to her. An hour later Kyla was still trying to come to terms with that and the fact that the most gorgeous man in Hollywood was sitting next to her. He was napping, but she was in touching distance of Alex Richards.

  The smile that had been threatening to break loose since she’d moved across a seat spread across her lips. Sure, the move meant she had to sit next to the hated window, but it was a small price to pay. Just wait until Rya heard about this; she’d be spitting feathers for a week!

  With nothing else to do, she sat and started to read. If one word in ten filtered through her crazed fangirl brain, she was lucky. Four chapters in, all she knew was that the guy was a vampire—no surprise there then—and the girl was leading him a merry chase with a sassy tongue and some supernatural abilities Kyla really hoped were going to be explained later on in the book.

  Still out at sea on the actual plot thanks to her inability to concentrate, she found the first sex scene and settled down to read. This was an area her editor had told her to study and read more on. Apparently her sex scenes needed a little more “punch”. Kyla wasn’t surprised. Write what you know, they said. She wasn’t sure how that worked with vamps and alien beings unless the world as a whole was keeping some really big secrets, but sex? That she should…could write.

  The trouble was that she hadn’t had it in god knew how long. Not many guys were interested in a shy, curvy divorcée whose idea of a good time was a night in with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and the latest action film. She’d just have to settle for reading and glean information that way.

  Ten minutes later, she was wiggling in her seat, a flush mounting on her cheeks. Lord, this author really knew what they were doing in the bedroom. The scene was scorching, a loving dominance scene where the hot hero took control and gave the lucky heroine exactly what she wanted and then some.

  Automatically, her mind started to “cast” the roles. Within a hot second, it latched on to Alex, half-reclined next to her, as the leading man. From there it was a small leap to imagine herself in his arms. Suppressing a whimper, she pressed her legs together and tried to calm down.

  Seven times table, backward. Pink bunnies. Cute puppies.

  She tried every nonsexual thought she could to avoid the erotic scene currently playing in her head. What it would feel like if he turned over, lifted the armrest between them and gathered her into his arms.

  “Excuse me, I need… Ladies’ room,” she managed to blurt out, her voice entirely too breathy and seductive for her liking. She might be thinking it, but if he thought she was making a pass at him, Kyla would just die. “Mr. Richards, can you move your legs a little, please?”

  The seats that had seemed so spacious before now seemed tiny and cramped as he grunted and shifted his legs a little. Not nearly enough for her peace of mind, but she didn’t care. All but scrambling over his lap, she escaped into the blessed safety of the aisle and bolted up the walkway toward the toilets.

  Chapter 2

  She made it to the toilets in record time, almost flattening one of the flight attendants en route. The woman had stepped neatly aside at the panicked look on Kyla’s face, correctly guessing her destination. No doubt they had a lot of passengers who took ill on a flight.

  Kyla wasn’t ill, but she did breathe a sigh of relief as she reached the sanctuary of the small cubicle and locked herself safely in. If she’d had to sit next to Alex one more second after reading that scene… Well, she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

  Dropping the seat, she collapsed onto it with a groan. The erotic images from the book just wouldn’t leave her alone. Then her imagination got in on the act. Image after image of her and Alex burned themselves into the back of her retinas. She pressed her thighs together, trying to ease the savage ache between them. A helpless moan escaped her lips. It was no good, she felt as if her whole body was on fire.

  Her hips rocked slightly, her body trying to find some ease as her mind replayed the scene she’d just read. Unable to resist, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. In her mind’s eye, she was naked and spread-eagled on a bed with silken sheets. More silk, in the form of soft cords, bound her hand and foot. The restraints left her totally open to anything the man walking toward her wanted to do. What Alex wanted to do…

  She whimpered and clamped her hand between her thighs, pressing her fingers hard over the seam of her pants and against her throbbing clit in the hope of some kind of relief. Pleasure rolled through her system and the small cubicle around her ceased to exist. Instinctively she pressed harder as the fantasy took over.

  He reached the end of the bed and looked down, the heat in his eyes hot enough to burn the skin from her body. She shivered, reading the erotic intent in his eyes. He’d told her all the things he wanted to do to her when he’d tied her to the bed, arranging her body in the best position for his plans.

  Reaching out, he stroked a finger along the inside of her an
kle. The answering shiver crawled its way up her skin and wrapped around her body, extending its long fingers down to her clit. The small button nestled between the slick folds of her pussy tightened another notch.

  “You’re gorgeous. So pink and wet.” His desire-roughened voice fit the fantasy perfectly as he lifted a knee to crawl onto the bed. She jumped a little and bit her lip as his hot lips caressed the skin above her ankle. A rush of liquid heat bathed her pussy as he kissed up the inside of her leg.

  Spread like this, she was at his mercy. There was nothing she could do to stop him. If she wanted to stop him. He reached her knee and his tongue snaked out, hot and wet, flicking over the sensitive skin behind the joint. She moaned, unable to hide her mounting excitement.

  Chuckling deep in his throat, he moved on to her thigh. Her hips jerked in small movements as he took his sweet time tasting the delicate skin of her inner thigh. Her clit throbbed and pulsed, so tight it was almost painful. With each kiss, he drew closer. Each butterfly kiss had her cunt clenching tight in anticipation. Each hot brush of his tongue drew a fresh wave of need.

  Pulling on her bound wrists, she looked down her body, but he was already there. His blond hair was the only thing visible as he settled between her spread thighs. Bound as she was, she couldn’t move her arms and legs. All she could do was hold still as his hot breath washed over the eager lips of her pussy. He had to…she needed…

  “Aiieeee…” Her breath escaped in a drawn-out combination of a squeak and a moan as he parted her lower lips with a decisive sweep of his tongue. No warning. No exploratory pass, just straight into the action as he located her clit and drew circles around it with the tip of his tongue.

 

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