So I dodge the question, turning to kiss at his neck and nibble his ear instead. Trying to buy time. He laughs and pries me off him gently. “Well?”
“You seem to be so sure that we’re going to sleep together again,” I quickly say. “Don’t dates have chaste endings, once in a while?”
“Not the dates I have,” Jagger says, with that cocky smile of his coming back. It quickly fades when he realizes I actually mean what I’m saying. “Whoa, I thought dinner…”
I jump right on that. “Because you bought dinner, you get to fuck me? Oh, boy.”
“No,” he actually looks flustered. Well, flushed, anyway. It’s not at all a bad look on him. “I didn’t mean it like that at all. In fact, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to for it to come off like that. We had dinner because I really like this place, and I wanted to share that experience with you.” His eyebrows knotted. “Plus, I also really enjoy your company.”
Don’t think I don’t notice he’s intentionally weaving his words so he can avoid acknowledging whether he really likes me too. If he can like the restaurant, he can like me too.
I think he’s still under the impression he can talk his way to fucking me in my place, my stepsister’s place, as it happens to be, so I make myself more clear. “Tonight’s been wonderful, Jagger. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” I touch his forearm.
“Ah,” he nods, recovering well. He actually doesn’t look frustrated, which I admire a lot. He would have lost a lot of points with me if he actually started pressuring me, like some horny college boy. “I can give you a lift, at least. If nothing else.”
“If you want to sleep with me again,” I say, just to sprinkle a little promise to him, “You’ll have to give me another story.”
“Another story,” he says, contemplating my challenge. “Hmm.”
“That’s right,” I nod.
“I don’t have one off the top of my head right now, damn,” he says, sighing.
“That’s fine. When you do, give me a call,” I say, kissing his cheek. “I’m okay finding my own way home.”
As I turn away from him and start towards a parked cab. I’m almost holding my breath. I can’t believe I managed to get myself away. I try so hard not to turn back. But I fail. I look back and and see Jagger, still watching me. I almost stumble. I almost turn back but somehow I hold it together.
My voice is light and bright when I call back to to him, “This time it better be an actual love story, too!”
My bags are by the front door by the morning after. Say what you will about me, but I’m an efficient packer. The pangs of sadness are real though, constantly hitting me as I turn this place back to the pristine, soulless state it was in before I got here.
Cleaning Helen’s place makes me feel a little like a maid, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.
Better not forget the dry cleaning, too. More importantly, I better hope my cheap dry-cleaning isn’t too obvious. There’s no way I can afford her expensive one.
I keep glancing at my phone, hoping Jagger will call. He’s never called me in the morning, so I can’t raise my hopes too much.
But he calls me, all the same.
“Hey, Alexa,” he says, sounding like he’s rushing to get somewhere.
“Got a story for me so soon, handsome?”
I love the sound of his chuckle, deep and charismatic in my ear. “You’ll turn me into a writer, at this rate.” We both laugh. I’m relieved he’s not holding a grudge. I think he may be thinking the same thing. “And, well… not quite. I’m working on it. I’m just calling to let you know now that I’ve got a new client. He’s getting me to fly a long series of flights for him. Sort of a round-the-world itinerary. That means I’m going to be away. For a while, at least.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised by how numb I sound suddenly. My first thought is that this is his way of backing off. Maybe I guessed it wrong. That he saw some sort of massive red flag in me not wanting to follow dinner up with sex at once.
“Yeah, it is what it is,” he says, sighing. It sounds sincere. I so want it to be. “I’ll call you sometime.”
Then he ends the call.
That was hardly conclusive. What exactly is a long route? Is he expecting to be gone days, weeks, months?
Disappointment fills me as I open my mouth and close it quickly again. I’m still gripping my phone close to my ear. “Okay, then,” I murmur to myself.
There’s also a relief, mixing with the disappointment. I have been freaking out a lot, here. I like Jagger. We have really amazing sex together, and with last night’s date… I find myself almost wondering whether this could be something more.
So when he says he’ll call me later, and knowing he likely might never call me again. I’m partially glad, too. This way I can get my head screwed back on straight. I have a long to-do list of things I need to get through before Helen and Ben get back.
But the romantic in me does everything it can to analyze his words. He sounded rushed, pained, almost stressed. Was that a sign this was an ambiguous breakup, or a sign he’s not happy to leave me hanging like this?
Either way, it’s important for me to realize it’s no big deal. Or, at least, to try and not let it be one.
Fly safe, flyboy.
TWELVE
RETURN TO WORK almost expecting that my frustration with Alexa will have me run straight into Serena’s arms. No, that sort of flakiness isn’t how I handle myself, but a part of me wonders if I wouldn’t just be better off fucking my way out of this slump.
“Slump,” I murmur, shaking my head. So Alexa’s managed to get me all tangled up over her. Yeah, I get it. She’s dynamite in bed, but so am I. It’s natural that these commonalities make us so attractive to each other.
“Thanks for picking me,” Serena says. She’s already in her chief stewardess outfit, always one size too small for her — just the way she likes it. “I really can use the hours.”
I give her an understanding nod. “Think nothing of it. Plus, I checked the roster and saw that you were available, so I might as well name you for this flight. Client likes your type.”
“My type?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at me. “How about you, Jag? Do you like my type?”
I’m actually not even looking at her, instead checking my phone out. Glancing to see if Alexa’s texted me, which she hasn’t. Then again, the ball’s really in my court.
“And here I am, flirting with the bag boy, because the captain’s head over heels for some other girl,” Serena sighs dramatically. “What does a girl have to do to get a good lay?”
My eyes finally lift away from my phone screen and look her right in the eye. “Head over heels, what?”
“Your little escapade with whoever it was from Miss Karina’s party, I’m assuming,” Serena shrugs, as we walk along the tarmac. She shoots a wink at a bag boy, while she’s at it. Way too young. She’s not even doing it to make me jealous, she’s actually genuinely desperate for attention.
“So?” I challenge her.
“Why do you think I’ve only been lightly teasing you, not trying to ride you hard the way I do every other day?” she shoots back. “I know you actually like someone. That takes fun out of the game, Jag.”
Suddenly I regret the, casual chat that I had with her at the end of the disastrous Karina flight. I may have even told her about my phone call with Alexa — the made-up love story that’s been biting me in the ass, too.
“You’re making me sound like some kind of high-schooler with a crush I can’t handle,” I shake my head. “You know me better than that.”
Serena begins to climb the steps to the plane, walking in front of me. At this angle, her skimpy uniform looks way too easy to glance up, but flight attendant upskirts are not my idea of a sexy time right now. Plus, we’re discussing something important.
“A crush,” Serena smiles, turning back to see me. “A crush is what I have on you. What you have for this mystery girl is way bigger than that. Besid
es, are you still playing storyteller for her, inventing love stories so she can sigh and thank her lucky stars for just how happy she is to have met a romantic like you?”
I roll my eyes at her, urging her to stop blocking the way and board the plane already. “As a matter of fact, I am still making stories up. So if you really want to be helpful, come up with one for me.”
“What? So you can get your dick sucked by someone prettier than me?” Serena laughs. “I don’t think so!”
I remove my pilot’s cap and rest it under my left arm. “That’s just how it is, doll. I’ve got work to do. And I don’t just mean flying this plane.”
My co-pilot today is a young French pilot named Julien. He’s cool as a cucumber, working his way up the ranks of the company, ideal for a no-fuss flight like this one. After the debacle with Miss Karina, I figure I should rest Will for a little. Let one of the other captains have the benefit of his enthusiasm.
The story’s spread among the pilots, though. Julien, who normally doesn’t even say more than a few sentences over a long flight, makes sure to ask me if I’m doing okay. He got himself a firm telling-off from me for that.
Thankfully, all questions about my competency have been dispelled. Julien’s been watching me carefully, and even though he doesn’t think I notice, I can see him nod every time I so much as move to flick a finger to a knob in the cockpit. He knows who’s boss.
It’s an international flight, so there’s a lot more bureaucratic hassle involved. Julien’s my go-to guy for this, because while every air traffic controller on the planet will speak at least some English to you, some of them are snobby enough to push you all the way down the priority list for getting a good hangar spot if you don’t come up with a few words to them in their native language.
Julien speaks ten languages.
“This is quite a whirlwind tour,” Julien says in his lightly accented English. “Six hours in Lisbon? It’s not even worth it to go into the city, if we’re only getting an hour or so to spend there.”
“Company’s authorized a tour van for anyone with us who wants to do that, though,” I tell him. “As for me, I’m grabbing some shut-eye. Heard this airport’s got an okay pilot’s lounge.”
Julien snorts. “Single beds only. Bunks, in fact. They think we’re backpackers.”
“That’s good enough for me,” I reply. “I’m not exactly planning on sharing my bunk.”
We begin to exit the cockpit, having made sure everything’s been powered down appropriately. Julien’s gaze goes towards Serena.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I add, “but let me be clear here, I have no intentions of that sort.”
My co-pilot gives me an interested look. “Does that mean I could?”
I land both my hands heavy on his shoulders, squeezing. “So long as you don’t upset the smooth operation of the cabin and flight deck or bother my sleep, I could not care less what you choose to do on your spare time,”
“Yes, sir!”
In Lisbon, by the time I haul myself over to the lounge, I don’t need to do the math to figure out what time it is back home. I check my phone again. Nothing. My watch has a second timezone function and it confirms what I already knew. It’s late. She’s probably asleep.
Still, I figure I might as well call her.
“Hello?” Alexa picks up quickly, her voice heavy with a yawn. “Jagger, it’s four in the morning.”
“I knew that,” I acknowledge. “But I also knew you’d be awake.”
“How in the world could you have guessed that?”
“It’s a hunch,” I say, dropping my bag down by the first bunk I see that’s not been claimed. The bag lands with a dull thud on the carpeted floor and I kick the door closed behind me. “You’re a night owl, after all.”
Alexa pauses before she answers. “Don’t remember telling you that.”
“That’s what hunches are.”
“So,” she says, her tone lifting, sounding almost inquisitive. “Is it too much to expect that you’d spend your entire flight thinking of a story for me, and you excitedly called me as soon as you landed so I could hear it?”
I laugh. “Goddamn, that’s exactly what’s going on. I do have a story.”
“A good one?”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who’d tell you a bad story?”
“You never know…”
“Alright. Sit up,” I instruct her. “I’ve just flown across the Atlantic, letting myself invent a brand new love story just for you. So get ready, because I’m rock-hard and ready.”
“Mm. Very nice. I can’t wait. Lay it on me, big boy,” Alexa invites.
I inhale, letting my mind focus on the shape of the story I’m about to tell her. And then I close my eyes, focus on the sound of her breath and her voice in my ear, and I begin.
“Once upon a time, and yes, this is a once upon a time sort of story, there was a thief.
“He was cunning, and he was fast, and he was goddamn good at what he did. There wasn’t a thing he wanted that he couldn’t steal.”
This time I’m going to do it right, tell her a story she won’t forget. I could tell this wasn’t the opening she was expecting.
“Interesting. Sounds sexy, to be honest,” Alexa replies, waiting for me to go on.
I continue my story, looking at the notes I’ve scribbled down in the short time I had for my pilot lounge break. “Like I said, there was nothing he couldn’t steal. Cash, bars of gold all sorts of beautiful, fancy things. Yet, there was still something, one thing he wanted to own but he couldn’t ever quite take.
“It was a jewel that belonged to a princess.”
“Oooh.”
“A princess in a high tower. Of course, the more the thief thought about it on it, the more he wanted it. The jewel was on his mind all of the time. It kept him awake at night. Then, he wanted it so bad, when he finally got off to sleep, he dreamed about it.
“And so the thief decided that he had to steal this jewel. And in the darkest night, he scaled the tall tower, to sneak into the princess’ chambers.
“Now, our thief here, he’s a stealthy one. In his whole career, he’s never once been caught. The trick to never being caught is to never let yourself be caught… by surprise, that is. And yet, that was exactly what happened to him.
“Because as soon as he snuck in to the outer chamber of the princess’ suite, he discovered that the princess was not sleeping at all.
“In fact, she was awake, bathing in a pool of milk and honey. From where he stood, he could see her beautiful shape, and the sight of her had him rooted to the spot. She was facing away from him, and he was stealthy, so she didn’t know that he was there. But ever so slowly, she began to ascend from her pool, and as she did, she began to turn in place, until he could see her from the side.
“The thief was overcome by awe by the beauty of the princess. He had known she was beautiful, but he had no idea just how enchanted he would be just from seeing her. And even more, he watched in silent fascination as she began to play with herself…”
Alexa giggles on the other line. “I knew there was going to be a dirty scene like this. This isn’t a love story at all!”
“Shh, you.
“As the princess in her private chambers, in her private moment, or so she thought, as she touched herself, still slick and dripping in the milk and honey, she began to moan.
Captain Charming (Tales of 1001 Flights) Page 10