“Truthfully, you have nothing to do for a while except let them investigate your actions, correct?” Sister Katherine questioned, as she looked at my dad once more.
“Yes, I am stuck with nothing to do until they conclude their findings by their standards, but I want to go the distance and save my job.”
“Perhaps you will go the distance,” my father’s words carried across his house as though they had a double meaning. “But for now its time to eat.”
Chapter Six
Logan
Once again, I was holding up a flight, but I couldn’t help myself. The ample breasts getting dressed in front of me had me busy all morning. It was a damn shame she wasn’t on my flight today because I would definitely consider a second chorus with Melody.
“We’re late,” she giggled, and suddenly I lost interest. What the hell was wrong with me today? I could fuck her, but I couldn’t stand to hear anything except moans leave her lips. Must be because I was heading to London today. I grabbed my bag and coat as she exited my apartment and we grabbed a cab to the airport.
Sister Katherine had decided to stay in New York and take a later flight, even after some favors were called in to allow me to pilot the plane to Heathrow. I had considered checking in on my dad’s wife - number seven - while I was there, but I decided that it would be better if I didn’t. She wasn’t the type of woman you could visit without steel underwear and Constantine wire around your dick.
“You’re late,” Caroline scolded, as I entered the terminal a half hour late.
“Late is a relative term,” I replied, as the tasty treat from this morning yelled my name and ran after me. “I’ll be right there.”
“Hurry up, Logan,” Caroline fumed as I turned back.
“Morning,” I beamed at the dainty blond as she ran up. I was trying to be considerate since I hadn’t said a word since I told her to spread her legs the night before. “Your cell phone fell out in the cab and then you disappeared,” she told me, and I thanked her with a kiss on the cheek. “I programmed my number in it for you. You can call me anytime.”
“That’s sweet darlin, but I don’t double dip my chip in the company snack bowl,” I walked away before I could hear the bitching that usually ensued.
I headed back toward the terminal when I noticed a raven-haired woman go flying back into a heavy-set passenger. She was apologizing, and I was looking at her ass as she stuck her hand out to help him up.
I couldn’t look anywhere else as she shimmied and shook as she apologized and then leaned down to pick up her bag. I wanted to photograph that delectable ass for the days when I retired my cock to only one woman, and she stopped being fun. That is where we are all headed anyway.
I got past the group of people trying to get boarded, but turned back to see her pick up her smaller bag and a pink scarf. I waited as she seemed to move in slow motion, gathering her things.
She walked past me, hips swaying and her ankle boots sounded on the floor. I made sure to stay directly behind her as she seemed like she was a little drunk. I was going to hell as I struggled with the overwhelming urge to bite the ass that was wrapped up tightly in skinny jeans and swayed with her hips as she walked.
Get a fucking grip!
I had to remind myself I didn’t need another fling. No more distractions. They wouldn’t keep me from thinking about my dad, life in London, and other things I tried desperately not to relive. I had just gotten laid from the stewardess whose name had escaped me once again and that should have been enough.
“Caroline,” I greeted my co-pilot again as I stepped onto the plane.
“Late as always,” she growled. “What’s her name this time?”
“Don’t remember,” I admitted and she scoffed.
“Why did you request this flight if you were too busy to fly it?” She asked as we headed into the cabin.
“I thought I was taking someone home with me, but she decided to stay a little longer in New York.”
“Let’s be realistic. When you asked me about this we both knew you just wanted the company to pay for you to go over there and fuck your way through London until your return flight next week?” She stated as she looked at my schedule.
“That isn’t why I asked for this flight, but I can’t help when they scheduled me to fly back,” I shrugged, feigning ignorance when I had asked for just that.
Once I explained what was going on it was out of my hands. Patrick wanted me as far away from his wife as possible, and I still hadn’t completely ruled out seeing my dad. As much as I hated him I didn’t want to carry it with me after he was gone.
“One day some girl with a blow torch is going to thaw that ice-covered heart of yours.”
“I’m gonna put on my hat and do the whole nod and smile so the crowd thinks we won’t crash and burn in a horrible fiery death before drowning in the frigid water below and turning into shark shit at the bottom of the ocean,” I casually spoke, as Caroline dropped her jaw and looked like she needed a hug.
“I hate you sometimes,” Caroline retorted.
“If you did you wouldn’t fly with me anymore,” I continued as I sat my bag beside my chair and put on the black hat I was forced to wear as part of the uniform. Then I walked down the aisles as the stewardess introduced me and people smiled up as though they knew me. It was all part of the charade to make it seem like I was a good person.
I walked past the first-class curtain and saw the pink scarf woman three rows back in coach. She had drawn an empty row by herself as she stared out of the window. I felt like she was familiar, but she had yet to look my way. Maybe she was doing it on purpose because I had been between her legs before. Maybe, I did her sister. The maybes only aggravated me. I didn’t want a challenge, at least not right now. I had other things on my mind, things I couldn’t escape from any longer, but would try to with someone like her.
I greeted everyone and went back to my cabin where I closed the door, made my announcement, and we pushed back as I radioed in our information.
“Are you at least sober today?” Caroline inquired.
“I think so,” I joked and she rolled her eyes.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” She asked as I checked everything.
“No, I found a woman who screamed louder than you and it was a challenge to see if she would lose her voice like you did.”
“You and I have this love-hate relationship, but right now it’s bordering on me murdering you and then feeling guilty because I got my clothes dirty,” Caroline scoffed. “I wouldn’t miss you.”
“You would miss my cock. You have to keep your mouth to yourself this time. It’s not the layover in Georgia. This time I am wide awake and resilient.”
“Just fly the plane.”
After we had clearance we took off into the clouds. It was my favorite place to be. I wanted to rise above it all. The crime, the heartache, the needy women, the bills, and everything I left below on the ground. Life happened on the ground and bliss happened when I sailed through the air.
A few hours into the flight the stewardess knocked on my door. Caroline let her in as she twirled her yellow neck tie and whispered in my ear.
“I need you.”
“For what?” Caroline posed her question with a hint of jealousy. Normally, I would be envisioning a Jell-O pit for them to wrestle in, but not on my plane. There was no time for fucking or fighting on a plane. It was the one place I wouldn’t trespass with any of my deviancies. It would suck the freedom being in the air allows if I ever crossed the line. It would break my ability to escape everything when I’m in the air. It would break every rule I had.
“I have a passenger who has been in the bathroom nearly the entire trip,” she told me and I frowned.
“Sex, illness, or anxiety,” I told them. “Those are the only three reasons to hog a tiny airplane bathroom. Any clue which one it is?”
“No, she went in and locked herself in there when I told her I couldn’t give her alcohol until we h
it thirty thousand feet. Been in there since.”
“I got this,” Caroline told me, but I put my hand up.
“I’ll go. I want to stretch my legs,” I lied. In truth, I wanted to get the woman with the scarf to look my way. For some reason, I needed to place her. Maybe my spank bank needed it because we had a long way to go till London.
I put it on autopilot and followed the stewardess back to the back of the plane and knocked on the bathroom door.
“Ma’am, this is your Captain. Can you unlock the door for me?” I asked and heard nothing.
“Want me to get the air marshal?” The stewardess asked and I shook my head. Last thing I wanted was to turn around and go back or do paperwork because someone was having sex in the bathroom and we alerted Homeland Security.
“Keep everyone away from here. I will let you know if I need anything,” I earnestly stated, and the stewardess walked away as I knocked again and heard the lock click.
I pushed the door open to see a woman sitting on the toilet with her hands threaded through her raven hair as she stared at the floor.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” I asked and she gave me a thumbs up.
“I can’t remember if I drank too much last night, but I do know I’m terrified of flying so if it’s okay with you I want to stay in my bathroom until we have to get buckled again,” her voice came out as a rasp and I felt bad for her.
“Leave the door open,” I ordered as I walked back into my cabin. I grabbed a bottle of aspirin, Pepto-Bismol, and then I pulled out a Chips Ahoy bag.
“What are you doing with cookies?” Caroline asked as she reached for one.
“Only way to get the good alcohol through security,” I explained as I pulled back the opening to show her the foil that lined the bag “Our x-ray can’t see through foil, and airlines don’t carry top shelf.” Caroline looked over to see the tiny liquor bottles, and veggie kit wrapped up in a cooler pack inside.
“Shameless,” she chided.
“You never complained,” I returned, and she shook her head.
“You’re rewriting history now,” she tried to turn it back on me and I smiled.
“Is that why you woke me up to get a piece, then screamed for me to stay deep inside you until your voice shredded and my name was the last word your voice could make?”
Yeah, you loved it.
She turned a new shade of crimson as I walked back to the stewardess. She retrieved a can of V8, and a glass. I started to pour a little vodka into the V8, but I remembered a paper I had done once that said hair of the dog was a myth. I didn’t want her feeling worse, so I put the vodka in my pocket, poured the V8 into the glass, and then brandished the glass with a piece of celery I had taken from my kit. Then I walked back to the bathroom. I slid the Pepto Bismol and Aspirin between her feet where she was staring.
“Thank you,” she murmured, as she ran her hands through her hair. Something about her was warm and inviting even though she wouldn’t hold her head up and groaned when she moved. She was familiar, but so were at least half a dozen other women I had spent time with.
“I’ve been there,” I told her as I saw the pink scarf around her waist and knew it was the woman from the terminal. My breathing hitched, and my cock twitched as she spread her legs open to grab the bottles.
I’d like to spread those legs.
“Why fly if you’re a chicken?” I asked jokingly, as she struggled with the aspirin lid, and I reached over and popped the lid off.
“I’m proud to be a clucker,” she gave me a soft chuckle. “Besides chickens don’t fly, they cross roads,” she made me smile with her response. She was easy to talk to. No fear that she would take it the wrong way, even though I was walking on egg shells. Something about her told me she knew not to take me solemnly.
“Seriously, if you are scared, why fly?”
“I’m more afraid of boats,” she gave the strangest response.
“You’re afraid of planes and boats?” I questioned her in disbelief.
“What can I say I like my feet on the ground and my head above water,” she sarcastically retorted as I knelt and took her hand. I nearly fell back on my ass feeling the tingles that came from touching her, like she was electric.
Man up, Logan.
I took her soft hand in mine again and placed the virgin bloody mary in it.
“The tomato juice helps.”
I watched as she flipped her long black hair back envisioning her riding me as it fell around her face. I had to shake the thought and adjust my dress pants as she downed the bloody mary with the pills.
“Thanks,” she said as her tear stained cheeks showed the misery she was in and her mascara told me she had been crying. I reached up and wiped her mascara with my thumb as if it was a natural reaction and she opened her eyes to look at me.
My heart sped up when I saw her. Her forehead creased, and her brows furrowed as I looked into those familiar cobalt eyes. I watched as her pink lips spread open like it was waiting for me to kiss her. She ran her hand through her inky black silk hair as she tilted her head. She shifted her eyes to my name tag and realization hit us both like a wrecking ball.
After all these years of hating her, there she was.
Man up… Say something. Anything.
Chapter Seven
London
I could get dressed and put on makeup and run into everyone I had never met before, but let me have a once in a lifetime hangover in an outfit I probably picked out in the dark and makeup streaming down my face and I run into the one person I spent years avoiding.
“It’s been a long time, Logan.” I forced my voice to make sounds as the words struggled to leave my mouth. My hands shook, and my heart raced looking at him all grown up. He was even more handsome than I could have ever imagined.
This can’t be happening.
“Not long enough,” he stated coldly as I tried to read those brown bedroom eyes I had fallen in love with all those years ago. The ones that showed me shock, happiness, and maybe even lust, but quickly turned to rage.
“Logan,” I whispered his name and reached out to take his hand, but he stood up and moved away from me. I should have felt a chill from the icy distance between us, but when I looked into those mocha eyes my body came to life. I blushed hot and took a slow breath when I saw his lips move to speak.
“I have to get back to flying the plane, but stay in there as long as you like,” he offered in a professional capacity, and walked away. I suddenly felt alone, isolated, and depressed. Like my whole world had just crumbled because he closed the door. I shook it off as I pulled out my cell phone to dial Brooklyn - only at forty thousand feet I couldn’t - I could try using my app. On a wish and a prayer, I messaged her.
“Hello,” she greeted, when I sent her an ill-sounding broken hello through the voice chat.
“How did I get on a plane?” I inquired as my head swirled with realization that I was forty thousand feet in the air – trapped in a plane – with Logan.
“Something about work. You explained it last night to me, but you were pretty wasted. I only caught parts of it. Something about needing to go find a dick to measure.”
“Ugh,” I groaned as my head ached and the WiFi cut in and out on my phone.
“You’re not there yet, are you? Did you get arrested by a hot air marshal? Do you need my legal expertise to get you out of trouble?” she queried with a chuckle as I sniffled into the phone, my finger holding down the little microphone to talk. “What’s wrong?” She interrupted my recording.
“I’m hung over, can’t remember where I’m going, and my ex is flying the plane,” I groaned with the unrelenting aching in my head. Someone had set drummers loose inside my skull. They were using my brain to practice on.
“Seriously?”
“Logan always said he wanted to fly. It was part of the plan we made for our lives. Looks like we both set out to accomplish what we wanted. We just did it apart,” I allowed the words to drift out of my mou
th as I remembered two little kids planning their lives out as we played in one of the only co-ed rooms inside the school - the library.
“I’m sorry, did you say Logan? As in THE Logan – love of your life Logan?” She delved into the situation as I sniffled again. I was trying not to vomit again, but the added rejection I had been dealt completed my misery with more nausea.
“The one and only. The flight attendant ratted me out when I locked myself in the bathroom.”
“Why were you locked in the bathroom?” Brooklyn was cross-examining everything I said as if I would change my answer. I think she was trying to hide the worry I could hear in her voice. I didn’t want to put her in a position to stress about anything, but I had apparently done just that.
“We went up,” I elucidated and expected an answer, but instead those three little dots to show she was messaging me back never appeared. She left an opening as wide as the Grand Canyon for me to explain when I didn’t want to. Giving in, I finally finished my testimony. “We went up. So, did everything else in my body.”
“I guess vomiting in front of an ex hasn’t helped,” I wanted to be crass and answer her with sardonic humor, but I didn’t have it in me. “How did he look? What did he say?”
“I could see him stripping off his uniform like someone on a stage at Chip N Dale’s,” I let out a light laugh as I struggled to talk into the app without wanting to puke.
“Really?”
“No, not really,” I snapped. I let out a deep breath, calmed down, and then continued. “Truthfully, he still looks like the boy who told me I would never turn out like our dad, that I had more good in me than bad. His face mimics the one that told me he loved me, and welcomed me with open arms. He looks like an older, more muscular, yet distinguished, version of Logan. I only had a few minutes with him, but after giving him every reason to hate me I can also see in his gorgeous brown eyes that he does.”
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