“This is your one chance. Name your price now or suffer the consequences,” she instructed.
She could hear him swallow. “F-f-fifty grand,” he managed to get out.
“Good, now get that damn video and those photos off the internet ASAP!” she charged. “I’ll get you the money when I see some action.”
“Yes, ma’am,” was his quiet reply.
‘And if you go anywhere near Zoe again, prepare to sleep with the fishes,” she threatened.
“Y-y-y-yes m-m-a’am,” Tony babbled on the line.
Florine could picture him trembling as he gripped the phone. He probably just wet his pants when she threatened him. She would wait to see if he removed the offensive footage he had of Zoe before Sheer Fusion got wind of it. According to the contract, Zoe must not be caught doing anything inappropriate for the next six months while her photos were being used in their upcoming issues.
Florine hung the phone. The youth was a fool, and she wanted to crack his skull. She knew he was the one who also started posting those fake photos with Zoe’s face on some random naked girl, doing God knows what. What was he trying to do, ruin her?
“Grrr,” she growled, her brown eyes hardening just thinking about the man.
Now that was settled, she could concentrate on getting Zoe that commercial contract and maybe a part in a drama soon.
1:35 AM, Tuesday, December 24.
All the seats were taken. Zoe stood in the middle of the airport lobby, scanning the crowded room through her Bulgari sunglasses. Not getting any sleep after her conversation with Florine, her eyes were puffy and red. She could cover most things with makeup, but red-eye wasn’t one of them.
Luckily for her, the flight was delayed, or she would have missed it by four minutes. She turned, trying to look for somewhere she could comfortably stash herself until they called the passengers to board.
She was about to give up when she saw the seat; a travel bag occupied it. Beside the seat was a suit. Her eyes dropped to the Italian leather shoes, then traveled up the legs of dark gray pants. Legs were apart, his thighs bulging, stretching the fabric across the muscles beneath. She continued her perusal, resting her eyes on his crotch where there was a big lump. Her eyes lingered there a few seconds as a spot of heat burned her cheeks.
With a giggle, she lifted her eyes, but the rest of him was obscured by a newspaper. In any case, she needed the seat, and his belongings were on it. Pulling her luggage, she bore down on her prey.
When she was directly in front of him, she stopped, tapping her three-inch black boot. As if sensing her, the paper lowered slowly; long, strong fingers folded it before Persian blue eyes made contact with hers. Her breath caught as she flushed. The Devil himself was staring at her with one beautifully cocked brow.
“Can I help you?” he drawled in his rich baritone voice.
“I need the seat,” she said, having no clue why her heart was doing backflips.
It was obvious Gael did not recognize her. How could he when his eyes were now cruising her much like he’d done before. However, this time, those blue pools lingered a tad longer on her 34C cup breasts underneath the medium T-shirt she now wore. His eyes cruised the length of her, taking in her long skinny jeans-clad legs, her slightly curved hips and back to her flat stomach. The shade of his eyes darkened just a little as they returned to her breasts.
After getting his fill, he lifted his eyes to her face. For a moment, he seemed to bore through her glasses with his stare. Then he got a glimpse of the rainbow hair, and the arrogant bastard waved her away.
“Move along,” he dismissed her.
“I said I need the seat; you can’t have your luggage on the seat while someone needs it.”
He raised his eyes, and she locked his gaze. “There are other seats,” he casually said.
“No, there aren’t. Look around; the place is full.”
“I don’t want my bag touching the ground,” he argued.
Zoe rolled her eyes. “What kind of a man are you? A woman is asking for the seat, and you’re more concerned about your bags.”
“Look, it won’t be long before the flight is called. Why don’t you take a walk? Leave your luggage; I’ll watch it for you.”
“I don’t want to take a walk. I want to sit, you jerk!”
His eyes glinted as his lips tightened. Before Gael could reply, Zoe reached for the handle of his travel bag and pulled it from the seat. As it was about to hit the floor, he grabbed it, returning it to the seat. She did it again, and several pairs of eyes turned their way.
“See those people?” She jutted her chin to the crowd. “They all think you’re a jerk.”
She grabbed the bag again, and before he could take it from her, she slid into the seat, placing the offending bag in her lap.
“See that wasn’t so hard. Your bag is not on the floor, and I’m sitting.”
The urge to drop the bag to the floor was intense, but she took the high road. Her mother had OCD, and she knew what it was like to be afraid of germs. Her mother used to scrub and steam the floors for hours because she believed they were always dirty. That was the only reason she didn’t drop Gael’s bag, because he may have the same problem.
He stared at her with brows deeply creased and jaw set. She returned his stare unblinking through her shades for several minutes. He was the first to break the stare down when he pulled his cell phone from his left breast pocket and tried to make a call. Apparently, the service was down as he grunted and replaced the phone.
For about half hour, she sat beside him, pondering on how she could repay him for his rejection of her modeling services. She bit her lips in concentration as she wondered how long before the flight was called. She’d just about decided to forget Gael when the voice came over the airport speakers.
“Flight 109 to Buffalo. Calling all passengers to gate #2,” the female voice came over the speakers.
Gael snatched the straps of his bag and yanked it from her lap. He stood, stared down at her before stomping toward the departure gate. With an amused grin, she made the same route, pulling her own luggage behind her.
She watched him from behind, unwittingly admiring his suited figure. No one could deny how gorgeous the man was, but that’s what made him even more of a jackass. He knew just how good looking he was, and that’s why he was an eel. He felt that his charms would excuse his reprehensible behavior.
Without thinking it through clearly, Zoe ran, closing the few meters that separated them. As they reached the departure gate, she rushed before him, handing in her ID and ticket. As the customs officer handed back her items, she turned, sticking out her tongue at an obviously annoyed Gael.
With a giggle, she rushed ahead as she could feel his eyes burning angrily into her back. She knew it was childish, but this was perhaps the last time she would see him. At least, she’d had a little fun with the hooligan.
The passengers moved quickly into the plane. Thankfully, she found her window seat four rows from the back. After stuffing her luggage in the overhead compartment, she settled into her seat. By the time she leaned back and buckled up, she knew she would be falling asleep as soon as they took off. Closing her eyes, she smiled as she recalled Gael’s expression earlier.
The beginnings of a headache presented at her forehead and temples. Along with it was stiffness in her joints. She knew she was getting sick, and she had nothing to take for it while on the plane.
A snicker from someone hovering over her rudely interrupted her reverie. She peeled off her glasses, turning her face to the perpetrator. With eyes wide, she stared up into the scowl of the man she’d been thinking of.
“Go away,” she dismissed him, waving him away. “I’m not apologizing.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, missy,” he growled. “I don’t care for apologies from you.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
He ignored her, sliding into the seat next to her. In silence, she turned away, donning her shades and
closing her eyes once more. Unable to believe her bad luck, she pouted, defiantly protesting the hand that fate dealt her. So, for the next five hours, she’d have to sit near this blockhead. This was not the trip she hoped to have.
There were a few minutes of low chatter while people settled into their seats. After the safety demonstration, the flight attendants began checking on the passengers to see if they needed anything as the plane began its sojourn to NYC.
“Is there anything you need?” the voice of an attendant reached her ear.
Zoe twisted to see a blonde, with boobs that rebelled against her blouse, looking lustily down at Gael. The man’s eyes settled on the woman’s high mounds, and she could see him stripping off the flight attendant’s uniform in the process. A snort escaped her as she turned away and resumed her pretend sleep.
They spoke in low tones for a while before the woman moved along the aisle. Not long after, she was back. This went on for a while, so much that it began to irritate her.
“Just get it over with,” she muttered under her breath.
“Are you speaking to me?” he asked, as the woman left to go attend others.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied, giving him the same words he’d used earlier.
Gael’s irritation with his seating companion augmented into a raging heat in his belly. Having his flight schedule changed at the last minute made it impossible to fly business class, as there were no seats available. He’d had to settle for economy, and as luck would have it, he got a snarky troublemaker as his neighbor.
The tension ran along his neck, tightening the muscles in his shoulders. When the redheaded hostess batted her eyes at him, he knew he needed release. Her large breasts pushed tantalizingly against her blouse, beckoning him to take them between his lips.
How long had it been since he’d sunk into some hot flesh? Two weeks? He’d been so busy that he hadn’t much time to breathe. The stewardess passed by once more, deliberately brushing his arm with her hips. His member pricked up, alerting him that she was ripe for the picking.
When she reached the end of the aisle, she turned and winked. He glanced over at the girl. Her lips were slightly parted, and he noticed how perfectly formed they were. His eyes lingered on their pink glossiness longer than he cared to admit. He shook his head and turned, peering along the aisle, noticing that most of the passengers were asleep.
Checking his watch, he noted the time. It was now two forty-nine, almost an hour since take-off. His companion shuffled, and when he looked over, her face was turned to the window. That pleased him. He eased from the seat, making his way down the aisle toward the lavatories.
As he slipped through the small hatch, someone followed him in. She leaned back on the door, snapping it shut. They sized each other up for a moment before he grabbed one of her breasts, giving it a squeeze. The hostess, whose name tag he didn’t bother to read, groaned.
“Come to me big daddy,” she crooned, grabbing his tie and pulling him to her.
She shifted, resting her ass on the mini counter at the small sink. Pulling up her skirt, she parted her legs as Gael closed the couple of inches to wedge himself between.
No sooner was he between her thighs than she began caressing his crotch. Gael dipped his head, nipping at the nipple that printed through her nylon blouse. There was no time for long lovemaking. All he needed was a quick fuck and done with it.
Her sickeningly sweet perfume tickled his nose, and he raised his head. While she unbuckled him, he gripped both breasts, rubbing his thumbs across the taut peaks. When she had freed him, she ran a smooth hand along the length of his shaft.
He dropped a hand from fondling her breast and pulled her skirt higher. Nimbly, perhaps from experience, he parted her panties and brushed a finger across her protruding clitoris. She leaned back, pushing her hips forward as a stifled moan pushed through her pursed lips.
Gael withdrew his hand, coated with her gooey fluid. Gripping her hips, he pulled her forward, her ass to the extreme edge. With deft movements, he pulled his wallet from his jacket and extracted a condom. Tearing the packet with his teeth, he quickly rolled the rubber onto his large cock. With obvious impatience, she reached between them and guided his thick member into her. Her wet flesh swallowed his cock as he slid in with one smooth move.
Not wasting time, he began moving his hips, thrusting deep into her. She gripped his shoulders as she moaned and groaned in pleasure. Gael kept his eyes on her face, watching her grimace with every thrust.
Then she was biting her lips, throwing her head back while trying not to scream. Unable to keep it in, she clamped her own hand over her mouth as her orgasm broke, and her body convulsed. He could feel his own release as he made a few violent strokes, sinking deeper into her flesh. With one last thrust, he erupted, gritting his teeth as his body stiffened and his cock swelled. He stood still as his member pulsed for a few seconds before he withdrew.
“Thanks, sugar,” the woman happily said. Kissing his cheek, she slid from the counter.
Gael rolled off the condom and dropped it into the trash. He then tucked his still hard cock into his pants and zipped, then straightened his tie and jacket. He washed his hands before he exited the bathroom, leaving her to freshen or masturbate, whatever she wanted to do; he didn’t care.
Some of his tension had been relieved, especially in his groin, but as he made his way back to his seat, his neck stiffened. Miss Rainbow Hair was grinning from ear to ear and clapping as he slid into the seat.
“Gosh, you’re good,” she remarked. “How long did it take to get into those drawers, an hour? That must be some record!”
Clenching his jaw, he turned to face her. Her hazel stare shot into flames as he stared into their depths. There was something familiar about those eyes, but he could not place them.
“What’s your problem?” he growled in a low tone.
With wide-eyed innocence, she replied, “Me? I have no problem. You’re the one who can’t keep it in your pants.”
“Are you jealous? I bet you were fantasizing about it the entire time.”
She snorted. “Get real, Mister. You are the last man on earth that I would allow to take off my panties.” With a hiss, she turned away.
Gael allowed his eyes to cruise the contours of her profile. Long thick lashes brushed her soft cheeks. His eyes fell to her lips, those perfectly curved small lips. He moved along and noticed how graceful her long neck was. She wasn’t a bad looking girl, only she must be a damn dyke. She sure acted like one.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, even though her eyes remained closed. “I’m not interested.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted. “My interests are more refined.”
“Good, because I have no interest in man whores.”
Man whore? This girl really knows how to rattle a man. Man whore? Gael never thought himself as a male whore before. Yes, he was promiscuous, but man whore?
“Loving sex doesn’t make me a man whore,” he said. Why am I arguing with this chick? he asked himself.
She eased herself up and turned to face him straight faced. “Do you even know her name … the stewardess you just screwed?” she asked.
He looked away, his jaw tightening. He didn’t care about her name; he just wanted a fuck, and she was there. What was wrong with that?
“See, you don’t even know her name. You met like an hour, and she jumped your dick. What does that make her? What does that make you?”
“Mind your own damn business. You must need a fuck really bad for you to be sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” he remarked, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Now shut the hell up and let me in peace.”
“You’re right; it’s your dick that’s going to wither one day. Not mine.”
“So you admit to having a dick. I knew you must be a guy, perhaps a gay one with that darn Unicorn hair.”
“Leave my hair out of this. Even if I was a gay man, you couldn’t crack my nuts, perver
t,” her voice faded on the last word.
Gael ignored her last statement counting it down as a jealous girl who perhaps knew she did not match his standards. Poor thing, he was almost sorry for her that the thought briefly crossed him to pay her a compliment. She perhaps needed attention. What the hell, a little flattery wouldn’t hurt, would it?
“You might be a Tomboy, but you aren’t a bad looking one,” he muttered loud enough for her to hear.
It wasn’t a complete lie, from the partial view he’d had of her face, she didn’t look bad. Her hair obscured the right side of her face in addition to the shades she wore most of the time. He’d concluded earlier that her lips were perfect, but he hadn’t seen her face in its entirety. Her breasts were medium size at most, and he liked stick ’em in your face kinda boobs.
There was no answer. Turning his head slightly, he peered through one eye. A light snore came from her, and he assumed she was asleep. It was better anyway. He didn’t need the hassle. As soon as the plane touched down, they would part and never see each other again.
Finally, getting a chance to relax, he resolved to getting some shuteye before the plane landed. Upon checking his watch, he saw that they’d be in NY within the hour. By the time he leaned the seat back and closed his eyes, he felt a jolt. Another one shook the seat.
“Attention passengers, this is your pilot speaking,” the voice came over the speakers.
Gael opened his eyes, unwittingly glancing to his right. She was still snoring.
“We are experiencing some turbulence due to the weather. We may experience a slower landing than expected. This is just a precaution, and we are communicating with the aviation administration on the ground. Please be aware that we may have to land at the Akron Airport. We will keep you posted. If you have any concerns, your attendants will be happy to address them. Thank you for understanding.”
A violent jolt shook the plane before the incoming bumpy gravel road ride. This lasted about ten minutes, in which time Gael kept his eyes closed, knowing it would soon pass.
“I hate turbulence,” he heard the girl mutter sleepily.
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