Rescued II

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Rescued II Page 3

by M. K. Elliott


  The question leaped from her mouth, “A married professional?”

  He laughed. “Only to the job.”

  Michelle took a deep breath. This was not the time to be seducing a hot cop. She had bigger things to worry about—like if the flood water was going to continue to rise, and for how long they would be stuck here.

  Suddenly she remembered the room full of hungry doctors and nurses, expecting the platters of sandwiches which were now floating away in the run-off.

  Screw them, she thought. They were a bunch of bloody vultures anyway.

  “Take off your wet clothes,” he said. “I’ll go get the blankets.”

  Before she had anymore time to protest, he flung open the car door and went back out in the torrential rain. He ducked his shoulders as he ran to the trunk, as if that could protect him or make him any less wet than he already was.

  Michelle hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out if it was going to be more or less embarrassing stripping with him in the car or without. She chose the latter and quickly pulled her sodden shirt up over her head and then wriggled out of her suit pants. It was awkward in the confines of the car and the clingy material didn’t help either. Somewhere along the line, she’d already lost her sling-back shoes.

  The driver door cracked back open and she covered her damp panties and bra with her arms as best she could.

  “It’s all right, I’m not looking,” he said, handing one of the silver blankets to her.

  Quickly, she covered her body with it and he climbed back in, water pouring from his hair and clothes.

  “Jesus,” she said. “You’re soaked.”

  He flicked her a wicked grin. “You don’t say?”

  Without asking her to look away, he started to unbutton his shirt, revealing smooth brown skin and firm muscle. He pulled the material from his body and his naked shoulder was only inches from her mouth. She had to fight a sudden urge to put her lips to his skin, to taste him.

  He hadn’t noticed and turned his attention to his pants. He slipped his gun and holster from his belt and placed it on the dashboard. Popping the button on his pants, he then lifted his hips to pull them down over his ass. Using his toes, he pulled off his shoes and then bent to remove the sodden socks and finally kicked his pants into the footwell.

  Her eyes widened as she took in the strong, broad thighs, the fine dark hair, the skin slightly paler than that of his chest and shoulders. Then there was the obvious bulge in the front of his shorts; clearly this man was packing more than just a standard issue!

  He bent to pick up the blanket, but caught her staring at him. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the sight of this incredible, almost naked man beside her, even though she realized her staring was incredibly rude.

  But when he saw her looking, he made no move to cover himself, and the bulge she’d spotted in his shorts suddenly jerked and lengthened.

  “There are other ways to keep warm,” she said, not knowing where the words had come from.

  “Michelle…” he started, but she dropped the blanket from her body, exposing herself to him.

  He took in the sight of her nearly naked body, his eyes running over the swell of her breasts, the gentle dip of her stomach, her shapely thighs.

  “No one will ever know,” she said.

  Hesitantly, he leaned in toward her and she met him in the middle, her lips finding his. His lips were as soft and firm as they looked and he kissed her with increasing passion, her mouth opening to his tongue’s gentle probes. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling his smooth skin beneath her fingertips, relishing in his warmth. He responded with a caress of his own, his hand slipping down over her shoulder, settling on her breast. His fingers ran over the hard nub of her nipple, rasping through the coarse material of her bra.

  Michelle gasped in response. She wanted more.

  Her hand traveled across his chest and down his stomach, loving the feel of the hard muscle beneath his skin. Her palm closed around the now huge length in his shorts and she gave his cock a gentle squeeze.

  It was his turn to gasp.

  She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband, eagerly seeking his rock-hard dick. The swell of its purple head, so smooth, was moistened by his juices, leaking from its slit. She ran her thumb over the top, smearing the pre-cum over his length before encircling him with her hand and pumping him slowly.

  Sean pulled her bra from her shoulders. Not even bothering to remove it fully, he simply pulled down the cups and bent his head to her dark nipple. His hot mouth closed over its peak and he sucked the hard nub, his teeth grating. His hand ran across her flat stomach and he rubbed at her through her damp panties, his thumb finding her clit and applying pressure.

  The pumping on his cock grew faster and he slid his fingers into her panties, his fingers stroking her smooth, shaved skin. She was already wet and he parted her lips with a couple of firm strokes, smearing her cream over her folds and up over her clit. She was so swollen, engorged with blood, and it only heightened her sensitivity.

  Sean’s shorts were frustrating her movements. She impatiently tugged them down, hoping he’d get the message. He did and he lifted his hips for her, allowing her to pull them down, kicking them from his feet, until he was totally naked.

  “You’re going to get cold,” she teased.

  “Then you’d better keep me warm.”

  His cock jutted from a thatch of dark hair, its head a perfect dome. With his fingers still in her panties, she bent her head, taking his thick cock between her lips, tasting his salty pre-cum.

  He moaned and pushed his finger inside her and she gripped his digit tight. He pushed deeper and she sank lower on his cock, pushing it as far to the back of her throat as she could, using her tongue to swirl around its girth. The fingers of his other hand knotted in her hair, guiding her head as she sucked hard on his dick.

  He slicked his finger in and out, though his movements were hindered by her hunched over position. Instead, he curled his finger inwards, tickling her inner wall.

  “Oh God,” he gasped over her. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

  His encouragement made her draw even more of him into her mouth, until his head rubbed the smooth skin at the back of her throat. She bobbed faster and he thrust his hips in response, his breath becoming ragged above her.

  “Oh, God,” he moaned again. “I’m going to come any minute if you carry on like that.”

  Not wanting this to end too soon, she slowed her movements, concentrating on using her tongue to curl around his length, swiping over its head. Finally she let his cock pop from between her lips and she gave its tip a final lick before looking up at him. His head was flung back, his finger still moving inside her.

  “I want you inside me,” she said.

  He slid his finger from her pussy and brought it to his lips, tasting her.

  The sight made her heart race.

  She pulled her own panties off and climbed onto his lap. Her dripping folds were only an inch from his swollen erection. She reached down and gripped its base, holding him steady. Slowly, she lowered herself until the head of his cock nudged her opening, settling between her lips. She rubbed his dick against her slit, relishing the feeling, lubricating him.

  His hands grabbed her hips, urging her down.

  “Shhh,” she whispered in his ear. “Patience.”

  She dropped lower, feeling him break her entrance, her muscles stretching to take his large head. Holding her position, she clenched her cunt, using her own pussy to pull him deeper.

  He groaned, his fingers sinking into her skin.

  She lifted up again, almost to the point of him slipping from her, but then sank deep, taking the whole of him in.

  Her arms wrapped around his neck, her breasts pressed against his chest. She kissed the sensitive skin on his throat, nipping him with her teeth. His hands were on her hips, helping to guide her movements as she moved on his cock.

  “Oh god, that’s so good.”


  She slammed harder and deeper, feeling she couldn’t be any more full. Needing that extra bit of attention to find her release, she reached between their bodies and rubbed her clit.

  Their movements grew faster and he grabbed her ass, pounding into her. Suddenly he exploded inside her and she held him tight as she came herself, pleasure flooding throughout her whole body, making every part of her tingle as the waves came again and again. The muscles in her cunt contracted, urging little shudders of cum from Sean’s cock to jerk inside her.

  Michelle collapsed against him, panting. She was still straddling him, her breasts pressed against his broad chest. When she’d caught her breath, she pulled herself up and kissed him again, slow and deep. Her fingers ran through the silky hair at the nape of his neck.

  His cock moved inside her again.

  “Oh my,” she said. “That was good.”

  “You know it’s going to be a long night,” he said, kissing her back. “And I can’t think of a better way to keep warm.”

  Crash Landing

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Pilot speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts. We need to make an emergency landing.”

  As someone who has battled a fear of flying for most of my life, these are the last words I want to hear. My stomach crawls into the back of my throat, making me sick with fear, and my hands tighten on the narrow armrest. Around me, the few passengers this small propeller aircraft contains make sounds of dismay and alarm.

  I knew I shouldn’t have gotten on this flight. These small aircraft simply shouldn’t be put in the sky. The plane is too small, with only twenty or so of us on board. I’m amazed the pilot didn’t just crane his neck around and yell his announcement to us, rather than using the intercom.

  What was even happening? I hadn’t noticed anything go wrong with the plane, but I’m guessing the pilot probably knows a hell of a lot more than I do, so who am I to argue?

  It’s okay, Amy, I tell myself. It’s probably just a precaution…or maybe like a newfangled type of airplane fire drill.

  Nevertheless, I don’t intend to be the one to get caught out. I scrabble under my seat, checking the lifejacket is where it’s supposed to be. As I glance up, I notice the guy next to me checking out my legs.

  Damn, I knew I should have worn pants.

  I flip my dark hair over one shoulder and shoot him a scowl.

  “If we’re going down,” he says. “I at least want to go down with a good view.”

  “How about we just concentrate on surviving,” I snipe back.

  A bang somewhere deep in the belly of the aircraft makes me shriek and the plane drops several hundred feet, falling out of the sky. My shriek turns into a scream, my stomach left somewhere far above my head.

  But the aircraft finds its equilibrium once more.

  I am grasping my seat’s armrest, but the hand of the guy next to me is beneath mine.

  I snatch my hand back. My heart is pounding, my breathing more frantic. As the plane descends, my ears pop, leaving a strange crackling sound deep in my head.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and get myself into the braced position, my forearms crossed against the back of the seat in front of me, my face buried into my arms.

  I can tell the plane is quickly losing height and I pray we’ll make it to one of the islands. I risk turning my head to peer out of the window, but only clouds are below us. I have no idea if we are above land or only the expanse of a blue ocean.

  The plane drops again and I can’t help the scream of fear that bursts from my lungs. I don’t want to die. I am supposed to be starting a job as a research assistant in a marine laboratory on one of the islands. The position has been my dream ever since I’ve been able to say the words ‘marine biologist’ and I can’t believe my dreams may end before they even got started.

  The man next to me leans in. “We’re not going to die,” he says, somehow smug in his certainty. “Look at the flight attendant. She wouldn’t be so calm if we were all about to die.”

  The young blonde is strapped into her seat. Her hands are in her lap, grasped together, and she is staring down at them. She looks plenty nervous to me.

  “I hope you’re right,” I say, feeling it is an inappropriate moment to start a fight. I know I can be difficult at times, but I don’t want the very last thing I do on earth to be arguing my point.

  The plane suddenly plunges through the clouds and when we emerge again the welcome sight of green is beneath us. What I also see is a trail of grey smoke from the right propeller.

  “Oh shit.”

  My new companion leans over me again, trying to see what’s wrong now. He frowns at the sight of the smoke.

  “That’s not good.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You sure have a way of under-stating things.”

  The plane’s nose dips, throwing me forward, but the belt cinches round my waist, just about preventing me from slamming right into the hard plastic tray imbedded in the back of the seat. I suddenly understand the importance of the brace position. It could save my face from being mashed.

  “Oh, please God,” I pray under my breath. “Please let me get out of this alive.”

  I risk another glance out of the window and the ground is hurtling toward us at a terrifying rate. People scream and cry around me and I bite my lower lip and concentrate on praying, just waiting for the impact to come.

  But at the very last moment the nose lifts again and I hear the distinct sound and feel of the jolt of the wheels coming down. The plane hits the ground, wheels first, and jumps back into the air. It bounces a couple more times, like a baby heron attempting its first flight, and then I feel the grounding as it lands, but not fully. These grassy fields clearly aren’t runways. The plane skids sideways, across the green land and I dare to glance out of the window only to see a wall of grey rock heading toward me.

  “Oh shit!”

  I want to get away, but I fumble with my belt, desperately trying to undo it. The velocity of the plane slows, but still the face of rock gets closer, filling my small porthole window, and I give up on the belt and put myself back in the brace position.

  The plane collides sideways against the cliff. From all around me comes the high-pitch sound of metal bending and tearing and the reinforced glass of the small window bursts inwards, showering me.

  Chaos explodes inside the plane. People cry and shout to each other. Someone gets up and pops the emergency exit on the other side of the plane, the emergency slide folds outward, inflating.

  I try to get up, to join the flow of people heading toward the exit, but I can’t move. It takes me a moment to figure out what is holding me back. My leg is trapped, a part of the buckled side of the plane crushed in, catching my leg beneath the seat.

  I turn to the guy next to me as he rises from his seat. “Help me,” I say, reaching out to him.

  He shoots me a wide-eyed glance, his face pale and drawn, before giving a slight shake of his head and joining the small stream of people fleeing the plane.

  I give my leg another good yank and moan as pain spears up through my calf. My world grays out for a moment, my head swimming.

  I can’t believe this is happening to me.

  I look up to see a man with chocolate brown eyes and skin the color of a rich espresso looking down at me. My eyes flick to his uniform: the crisp white shirt, lapels with two bands of gold thread, smart black pants.

  “Don’t worry,” the pilot tells me, his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get you out of here.”

  “You landed the plane,” I say.

  He grins, displaying a row of white teeth. “Yeah, only just.” He gets on his hands and knees and I can feel him prodding and probing around my trapped leg.

  “Can you get me out?”

  “I think so. Just hang on.”

  He is as strong as he looks, bending metal back to free my limb and I fall into his arms.

  “Thank you so much,” I say, tears running down my cheeks.

  “It’s th
e least I can do. Now let’s get you out of here.”

  He wraps a muscular arm around my waist and carefully lifts me from my seat. I wrap my arms around his neck and allow myself to be carried.

  We burst out into bright sunshine and I wince in its glare. My pilot gathers me closer to his chest, pausing at the top of the emergency slide.

  “Are you ready?” he asks.

  I’ve already lost my heels, so I nod against him.

  In one fluid motion, he leaps. I cling to him tighter as we slide down the inflatable slide and land at the bottom in a heap.

  “Don’t worry,” he addresses the small crowd of shaken passengers. “I got an emergency call in before we went down, together with our co-ordinates. Someone will be coming to find us.”

  Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.

  Other than the smoking airplane, we are in paradise. The jagged cliff face we crashed into towers over a tundra of grassy plains and palm trees. Between their leafy fronds, the blue of the ocean peeps at us.

  “What’s your name?” the pilot asks me.

  “Amy McKenzie. Yours?”

  “William Kendle, but you can call me Will. Everyone else does.”

  “You saved all our lives back there, Will,” I say, liking the sound of his name coming from my mouth. “If it wasn’t for your skill, landing like that, I hate to imagine what would have happened.” I look up into his eyes, fixing his dark brown eyes with my blue ones. “I owe you my life.”

  He holds my gaze and my heart rate increases, but for all the right reasons this time.

  People are sitting in small groups—some subdued and in shock, some frantic with worry. I see the man who abandoned me on the plane pacing back and forth, the cocky attitude completely vanished.

  Will turns to me. “How’s the leg?”

  “It feels a bit bruised, but nothing is broken.”

  “You were lucky,” he says.

  “As I said, luck had nothing to do with it. It was all down to you.”

  He glanced into the distance and then looked back at me. “Any rescue teams are going to be awhile. You fancy going and having a quick look at where we landed?”

 

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