I stare out the window at the landscape and wait for the announcement that we can either get off the plane or to sit back and wait for us to take off again. I hope we can just stay here. The thought of having to fight my way through lines again.
Okay every body. Once again, this is just a fast, unscheduled stop. There is no problem, we are just making some fast checks and we will be back in the air. Please remain seated.
“And there we go,” I whisper to myself. I stretch and lean back into my seat as the sun weighs in on my eyelids.
Passengers are getting restless, stirring and complaining about being forced to sit on the plane. The flight attendants have their hands full walking up and down the aisle. Telling everyone to remain calm and offering drinks. I don’t even know why everyone is complaining. Of course, this is inconvenient, but things could be a lot worse. The air conditioner is keeping things reasonably comfortable in here. The plane is still running so I’m pretty sure there aren’t any mechanical difficulties.
Within minutes, the pilot announces that we are getting ready to head back out. Obviously whatever the concern was that had to be addressed isn’t that big a deal. Or it was an easy fix.
I peel one eyelid open and glance around me. Passengers are still mumbling their anger as they reclaim their seats and seat belts begin clicking throughout the cabin.
And he’s back.
Just on the other side of the curtain.
He clicks his seatbelt into place, adjust his watch on his wrist, and smiles at the flight attendant. The pilot comes back on over the intercom to thank us all for our patience as we begin to roll back out into the runway and back into the air.
We end up arriving in Hong Kong a little late. Still, my scheduled layover is almost three hours.
“I’m going to hit the bar,” one of the other passengers says to his cellphone. “I’ll meet you there.”
Drinks sounds good, I think as I drag my duffle bag off the plane and head into the airport.
Everyone is smiling and polite. I check the airport directory and locate the bar. Living in a big city, I’m used to seeing crowds of people. But nothing prepared me for the flood of people that would be pushing their way through the airport. A jumble of elbows, briefcases, duffle bags, and legs all pouring down the narrow hallways. Heels clopping against the tile floors. And everything drowned out by the scores of people talking over each other.
Somehow, through everything, I see the same man from the plane. I wonder if he is staying in Hong Kong or continuing on to Thailand? Or maybe neither. He darts across the crowd and flings a door labeled First Class Lounge open, escaping from the flood of people.
So, he’s continuing on after all. I just wonder to where?
Finally, the droves of people wash alongside the bar and I’m able to work my way through. In contrast to the crowds and noise out in the hallway, the bar is quiet. Relaxed.
“Hello, would you like a seat at the bar or would you like me to show you to a table?” a young man asks me. I’m a little shocked at his blonde hair at first. I wasn’t expecting to see an American working here.
The world really is shrinking.
“Miss?” he asks again.
“Oh. Sorry. I’ll just sit at the bar, that’s fine,” I say with a smile.
He grins and points over to the bar.
With dim lights and soft music, I am ready to relax. I grab a seat by the bar and smile as the bartender tosses a cocktail napkin in front of me.
“Whiskey and coke, please,” I order and lean on the bar.
“Whiskey? Pretty strong, don’t you think?” A large man walks up behind me and waves at the bartender. “Make it two,” he says.
“Oh, do you think you’re joining me?” I ask.
“If you’ll allow me.” His smile is coy, very close to a smirk.
The bartender lays two drinks on the counter in front of me. I slide one over to my new drinking partner and lift my glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” he says and we each take a sip.
Two drinks later and I am pouring my life story to this man. Explaining everything.
“Sounds like you really need this vacation,” he says. He glances up at the bartender and motions for another pair of drinks to be brought over.
“Oh I do. I just need a break. You know. Like, I wasted my entire life so far doing everything right. Always the good girl. You know? The good friend. I got straight A’s all through school. And you know what it got me? Student loans. That’s right. You work your ass off through school and you get to go out and create debt.”
He chuckles and sips at his drink and I realize that I’m practically yelling.
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m probably embarrassing you.”
“No, you’re not embarrassing me at all. Sounds like you need to just, unwind. Have some fun. Do all the things you were always too scared to try before.” His voice gets softer with each word and his hand glides up my thigh.
My heart flutters.
I hold my breath and straighten my back. The new pressure on my thigh lights up my nerves and awakens desires in my core.
The scent of whiskey on his breath mingles with my senses.
“How long before you have to get to your flight?” he whispers.
I check my cell phone. I still have over an hour before they start boarding.
Plenty of time.
“An hour and a half. What about you?”
“Oh, I’ve still got a couple of hours to kill.” His breath grazes across my earlobe. Shivers ripple up and down my spine.
“I might be a little drunk,” I whisper.
He smiles and kisses the back of my hand. He steps closer to me, spreading my thighs around him and gazing into my eyes. I blink, trying to focus on his brilliant smile.
His hands glide higher up my thighs. Pressing up against my opening through my jeans.
I hold my breath.
“Drunk or not, I think this is what you need.” He slips one hand around the button of my jeans and starts to work the zipper down.
I glance over his shoulder at the rest of the bar.
Not a single eye is facing toward us.
He inches his hand closer to my opening. Brushing against my clit.
I could cum right here and not a single person in this bar would notice except this man in front of me.
He grabs the back of my head and glares into my eyes. His other hand rubs against me. My clit quivers.
He knows he’s driving me crazy.
My moans dry and catch in my throat.
All at once, I want nothing more than for this man to do to me what I couldn’t do. I want him to fill me. I want him to lick and suck on me. I want him to make me cum all over him.
And judging by his groans, he wants the same exact thing.
Oh how I wish I knew the airport better. If only I knew what corner we could crawl into and not be disturbed.
He leans in closer, his thumb just at the top edge of my opening. And his tongue traces along my ear lobe. He rubs his thumb down further.
Presses harder.
“Walk to the back of the bar. Past the large booths. Center door.”
I glance over his shoulder toward the back of the bar. The neon restrooms sign glared against the wooden panels on the walls.
I look back over at him and nod. He pulls his hand from my pants and turns to the bartender to pay our bill. I slip off the seat behind him and step back toward the bathrooms.
Center door.
Family room.
I chuckle and walk through the door, still wondering if I’m really about to follow through with this. Am I about to let a complete stranger plow me in the bathroom of an airport bar?
I stare at the blurry reflection in the mirror.
“Oh, yes, Kirsten,” I try my best to hide my slurred speech.
I skip through the bathroom to make sure I’m alone, check the door, and then hop up onto the counter, ready for him to come in.
The door
doesn’t budge.
I’m in the right room, right? He said the center door, didn’t he? Yes. Yea, center door. Oh my God, what if he’s one of those guys? Like one of those guys who hits on women and then steals their stuff? Or leader of a sex ring. Or—.”
The door opens and he steps through. His smile fades into lust and he locks the door behind him.
“I don’t even know our name,” he whispers as he wraps his fingers around the button on my jeans.
I bury my tongue between his lips, cutting off any other questions that he might have come up with. His moans send vibrations through my tongue and down my spine. I kick my jeans off and scoot closer to the edge of the counter. Wrapping my legs around him and pulling him in closer so I can reach his jeans.
His jeans slump to the floor and he steps out of them. I dig into the front of his boxers and wrap my hand around his cock.
Long. Hard. And ready.
I pump his shaft and point him right at my opening.
Juices dripping.
The smell of sex filled the air, and we hadn’t even really started yet.
He groans and pulls back from my kiss, gazing into my eyes as he tangles his fingers through my hair. Finally, he glides his hands down my back and grabs my ass.
My fingers curl over the edge of the counter as he pulls me closer to the edge. I’m ready for him to fill me.
He scoots me closer to the edge, leaning up on his toes to give himself a better angle.
“Ah, ouch!” I yell as his fingertips bite into my thighs and pull me off the counter. My skin sticks to the cold counter, stinging.
“Oh, shit, sorry,” he whispers.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” I plant a series of kisses along his jawline and down his neck.
He pulls me from the counter again.
“Ow,” I say again.
“Sorry. Here, what if we just move to the floor?”
“Okay, yea,” I say and hop down from the counter. As it turns out, the cold tile floor isn’t any better on my skin than the cold tile counter on my butt. My shoulder blades ache against the hard surface.
“Nope, no. This isn’t going to work either.” I groan as I crawl back up to my feet.
“Okay, here, let’s try this,” he says as he grips my thighs and hoists me up.
I try to help, latching my legs around his waist.
He stumbles backward. I shriek and dig my fingernails into his shoulders. I’m imagining the worst. Broken bones and a cracked jaw. Dying on the bathroom floor of an airport bar in Hong Kong after spending my ex-boyfriend’s money on the ticket. The image of a newspaper headline drives me to laugh so hard he nearly drops my naked ass again.
“I’m sorry,” I say between laughs. My breath grows sharp and my laughs soon turn into a coughing fit. “I’m so sorry. I promise, I’m not laughing at you.” I hold my breath and try to stifle the rest of my laughter.
He straightens his smile and adjusts his stance, hoisting me up further. He bends at the knees. His hard cock aiming for my opening.
I can’t do it.
Laughter bubbles up.
He falls back against the counter and nearly drops me.
A smile crawls across his lips and before we know it, we’re both laughing. Gasping for air. I loosen my grip with my legs and lower myself to the floor. Leaning on his chest and laughing uncontrollably until I snort.
Which makes us both laugh.
Our giggles are echoing across the tile bathroom.
“This is insane,” I say as I reach for my jeans. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing.” I tug my panties up over my hips and stick a toe into my jeans.
His laughter is contagious. He snatches up his jeans and pulls them up. “I don’t know. It seemed like such a good idea at the time.”
“Well, have enough whiskey and I guess anything seems like a good idea.”
“Yea,” he laughs again.
I grab my cellphone and check the time again.
“Well, I really should probably head over to my gate. What flight are you on?”
“Oh, I’m headed out toward Tokyo for business.”
“Tokyo. Really.”
“Yea. What about you?”
“I’m headed to…vacation.”
“Wow. I can’t believe we almost. I mean, we, I, almost.”
“What? Why? Are you like married or something?”
“No.”
“Gay?”
“No.”
“Virgin?””
“No would you stop,” he says between chuckles. “I’m none of those things. I just. I’m not spontaneous like this. I’m not suave. I’m not smooth.”
“You could have fooled me.” I popped my head back through my shirt and pulled my hair free.
“No. Seriously, I’m not. But then I was leaving Seattle to come on this stupid trip. And my buddy dared me to pick up on a pretty lady and use these lines and be spontaneous.”
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Your buddy dared you?”
“Uh,” he nearly chokes on his next words. “Well, I uh, I just mean, that, we—.”
“And I’m the pretty lady?” I smile and grab my duffle bag.
“Well, ye—but. I uh.”
“I see now where the not so smooth part is coming through. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”
“Right. Sorry,” He pulls his cellphone out of his pocket and checks the screen. His cheeks flush. He might be more embarrassed than anything right now.
“So, why would your buddy put you up to this?”
“Just, you know. Picking on the organized guy. You know? I’ve always got a plane, and a back up plan. And a plan B to my backup plan. And he took me out on my last night in Seattle and said ‘Sam, you need to learn how to live. You just keep gliding by. Get some passion. Have some fun. Make some memories.’ And I don’t know why I listened to him.”
“No, he’s right.” I let Sam’s words sink in and repeat in my head. “He’s right. Life is too short. And we can do everything right. Everything. I did everything right. That’s what I did. And yet it doesn’t matter. In the end it doesn’t matter because someone can just waltz in and it’s over.”
“Well I don’t think that he meant—.”
“It’s all over. Bam! Just like that. Just like that. You have to live. You have to live and try new things. Go out and have fun. And have sex. Oh my God. You, Sam. You have a much better friend than I do. Your friend is a genius and when you get to Tokyo you should call him and tell him that.”
I unlock the door and burst out of the bathroom before he can say anything other than thank you.
Swimming with the sea of faces along the hallways of the airport felt easier, somehow, returning to my gate. I get there, ticket in hand, just as they announce the third boarding call.
“Cutting it close, Miss Anders,” the flight attendant says.
“I’m sorry. I was at the bar and I didn’t hear the announcements.”
She smiles and hands my ticket back to me so I can board the plane.
Back in the air again, and I’ve got at least a few hours before I have to worry about fighting my way through the crowd to get off this plane. I just hope that the rest of the flight is uneventful.
I stretch and snuggle back into my seat. Sam’s words echoing through my mind. Giggling with myself at getting drunk and almost having the airport affair straight out of a book.
Oh my God, that’s what I should do while I’m on vacation. I should totally write a book.
My fatigue must have caught up with me, because I don’t even remember most of the rest of the flight. Someone taps my face to wake me up. And it works despite my protests. I brush my hand against my nose and shake my head, still refusing to open my eyes.
The taps grow a bit harder.
“Come on, come on lady,” an annoyed voice hovers over me.
Finally I blink and look around. Only to see him.
I grunt and stretch, moving back over into my
seat. He stretches above me and reaches into the overhead compartment.
Really? He had to wake me up for that? I grumble to myself and lean against the closed window.
He pulls down his bag and slams it into the seat next to me. Grunting all the way, he begins pulling out papers, passing them over to me to hold.
When I don’t accept the papers he shakes his hand at me and holds them closer.
“Oh, would you like me to hold these for you?” I ask.
Without even a word he nods his head. His eyes are glued to the inside of his bag. I think about ignoring him, but the longer I take to answer the more he shoves these papers into my face. So, wanting this to end as quickly as possible without a paper cut on my face, I reluctantly grab the papers from him, crumpling some of the corners in my fist.
When he’s done pulling out his novel, he shoves the bag back inside the compartment, rips the papers from my fist, and huffs as he returns to his seat in first class.
I glare through the curtains. As luck would have it, while he’s feeling up the flight attendant the damn curtains are left open. But come back here, wake me up, treat me like an underpaid servant, and go huffing off as if I just wrecked his day?
Oh. No.
I unfasten my seatbelt, check the aisle, and stand up. A couple breaths just to calm my nerves, and I storm into first class.
Sitting in the same seat as before, a pair of headphones ties him to his laptop. He is talking to someone on the other end.
Oh man, I didn’t realize this plane had wifi. I distract myself for a second. No. Focus.
I sit down in the seat next to him only to be greeted by the palm of his hand. He doesn’t even look up to see who is sitting there before dismissing me. I roll my eyes and clench my lips tight into a thin line. My hands are shaking and I can already feel the angry tears stinging at the back of my eyes.
Oh you’re going to get it! I scream mentally.
“I’m telling you, Jo. I just need this break. I know it’s not the right time. I know how rocky everything is. I know how bad this looks right now. But I need this. Okay? I need this break. How long have you been working for me now, Jo? A long fucking time, right? Have you ever known me to just take off like this? I need this break, Jo. I need to get away. And I need you to take over while I’m gone, okay? Please. Jo. I need to be able to count on you that you can handle all this.”
Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle Page 17