Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

  “Excuse me, where are you going?” Ben asked, leaning forward. His heart raced. What is this guy doing? “Downtown is the other direction.”

  “Goddamn Charlie,” the pilot muttered.

  “Charlie?” Kate asked, raising her eyes at Ben. “Who’s Charlie?”

  Ben shrugged, trying to act calm. “The air traffic controller?”

  The pilot muttered more indecipherable words as he punched some buttons on the controls.

  “Sir?” Ben said, leaning forward. “Could you take us straight back to the hotel, please? We don’t need to see any more sights.”

  The pilot ignored him. “Goddamn Charlie . . . killed my friends . . .”

  “Sir—”

  Without warning, the pilot let out a high-pitched howl that reverberated through their ears. He hunched forward over his controls. The helicopter dipped sharply to the side, heading straight for the stadium.

  “Hey!” Ben shouted, gripping the seat in front of him.

  “Die, gooks, die!” the pilot’s disembodied voice shouted in their ears. He punched frantically at the

  control panel.

  Kate screamed. Ben gripped her hand, his heart thumping in his chest. What the hell is happenng?

  Two more fireworks streaked by the helicopter. They blasted into fragments of light on all sides, surrounding them in glimmering sparkles.

  “Time to die!” the pilot bellowed, and shoved the stick forward.

  The helicopter did a sharp nose-dive straight down.

  CHAPTER 10

  Charlie Joins In

  The helicopter dipped low into Dodger Stadium, banked sharply to the left, then swerved to the right. From the helicopter windows, the stadium full of people rushed by in a blur of color. Ben caught a glimpse of wide eyes and staring faces as they whizzed by.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at the pilot. “This isn’t funny. You’re scaring the shit out of us!” Literally, based on the swampy feeling between Ben’s butt cheeks.

  The pilot mumbled a stream of nonsensical words to himself. He glanced back at them. His eyes bulged white and sweat poured down his face.

  “Enemy,” he shouted. “Kill!” He gripped the stick and yanked it. The helicopter circled around and around, hovering midair in the middle of the stadium. From outside, Ben thought he could hear the dim roar of the outraged stadium crowd. Blurs of color and faces and bright lights circled past.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Kate said, gripping her throat.

  “Gooks!” screamed the pilot. He spun the helicopter faster. “Where are they hiding?”

  “There’s no enemy!” Ben shouted, feeling faint. “We’re in the middle of Dodger Stadium, not Nam!”

  “Charlie killed my comrades!” the pilot screamed. “I’m going to blow their fucking heads off!” His eyes blinked furiously. He pulled on the lever and the helicopter rose. Then he banked a hard right and jetted by the stands again. More blurry faces and smeared colors rushed by.

  Sirens sounded above them.

  “We’re under attack!” the pilot yelled. He yanked on the lever, and they shot straight up.

  Kate screamed. “We’re going to die!”

  “Yes,” shrieked the pilot. “We’re going to die for the country we love! It’s an honor. An honor!” He jerked the lever, and the helicopter dipped down toward the stadium again.

  Ben and Kate screamed in unison.

  “Pilot, bring your unit to the ground!” a voice shouted over a speaker. A police helicopter whizzed by, nearly clipping them. Another dipped in front of them. “This is an order! You are breaking the law and endangering citizens. We order you to land at once!”

  “They’re surrounding me!” the pilot screamed, looking wildly from the left to right. He jerked the lever up, and the helicopter rose swiftly toward the sky again.

  G-force pushed Ben and Kate back into their seats as they shot straight up, the ground growing smaller below them. Kate whimpered and grabbed Ben’s leg. Her face was white with terror. Ben opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

  “Pilot,” the police speaker rang out. “You have violated protected airspace. Return to your landing field immediately.”

  “Oh shit, they consider us a terrorist threat,” Ben said.

  “Will they shoot us down?” Kate asked, looking at him with wide, stricken eyes.

  He nodded, his mouth too dry to speak.

  She stifled a scream with her hand.

  The police helicopter dipped in front of them, its silver blades glinting in the light. “Pilot, we order you to comply immediately.”

  “Fuck you, Charlie!” the pilot shrieked, and dodged the police copter. “Catch me if you can. Randy’s not giving up without a fight!” He hunched over the controls, his bandanna wet with perspiration. The helicopter banked sharply, then headed in the direction of the flickering lights of Downtown L.A.

  Ben swiveled his head to look behind him. Dodger Stadium grew smaller in the distance. Two police helicopters followed behind them, their lights blinking. Two others closed in and joined them in a line.

  “Sir,” Ben said in a shaky voice, leaning forward to address the pilot, “can you drop us off at our hotel, please? We’d really appreciate it. It’s that tall building to the left. The one with the helipad on top.”

  “We’re fighting Charlie!” the pilot shouted. “Can’t you see that, man?” He whirled in his seat. “Are you a traitor? Is that what you are? ‘Cause I go vigilante on traitors.” He gripped the stick and jutted it forward.

  “No!” Ben shouted. “You’ve got it wrong!”

  The pilot ignored him, muttering to himself. The helicopter raced ahead at breakneck speed. Tall buildings loomed up ahead.

  Kate let out a small scream. “Do something!” She clasped both hands over her mouth.

  Ben wiped his hands on his pants. “Sir, you’re having a flashback. I’m not a traitor.”

  The pilot swore to himself, gesticulating with his hands.

  “Keep your hands on the goddamn steering mechanism!” Kate screamed. The buildings grew closer.

  Ben’s mind whirled. He had to think fast. He leaned forward, trying for an authoritative tone. “Sir, I’m commanding you to drop us at our hotel. That is the objective of the mission. We’ll make the enemy pay by completing this operation in a timely manner.”

  The pilot grunted.

  “We order you to land immediately,” the police speaker intoned behind them.

  A pair of fighter jets whizzed by on either side of the helicopter, the roar of their engines reverberating through the sky.

  Kate gasped and buried her head in Ben’s lapel. Her body trembled and tears dropped on his grey silk tie.

  Ben jerked around and held his hands up to the police through the window, in a gesture of surrender. He hoped they would see him. Maybe they would realize this crazy pilot had innocent passengers onboard.

  “If you do not comply,” the speaker-voice continued, “our U.S. military will be forced to shoot you

  down, regardless of any hostage situation.”

  Kate gasped, then whimpered.

  Ben leaned forward and grabbed the pilot by the shoulder. “You have to stop! We’re all going to die otherwise. They will shoot us down!”

  “I’ll shoot them down first!” he screamed. “They don’t know who they’re messing with!”

  “What will you shoot them with?” Ben yelled. “Where’s the ammo? This isn’t a fighter plane.”

  The pilot punched frantically at the controls. “Am I out of ammo?”

  “Yes, you’re out of ammo,” Ben said, seizing the opportunity. “And you’re almost out of fuel, too. We should recharge. See that helipad over there? Why don’t you land there?”

  “They’re behind me, man!” the pilot screamed, turning around. The whites of his eyes engulfed his small blue irises. Sweat poured down his forehead, soaking the red bandanna tied over his wispy, long gray hair.

  “Watch where
you’re going!” Kate screamed, gripping the seat.

  The skyscrapers rose up in front of them. The pilot dodged around one of them, so close to the side of the building that Ben could see a maid vacuuming inside an office. A couple was having sex in another window, atop a corner desk. Some people have all the luck.

  Kate gripped Ben’s hand. “We’re going to crash. I can’t look!” She screwed her eyes closed. Ben could feel her body trembling next to his.

  The pilot dodged in and out of tall skyscrapers, veering around corners and missing their sides by inches as late-working executives looked up with startled expressions. The police helicopters followed closely behind. Their chopper blades were a cacophony of steady thumping behind them. The military jets roared by again, swooping in front of them like twin angels of death.

  “Let us out!” Kate screamed, her eyes snapping open. She clutched at Ben in panic. “I don’t want to die. I don’t to die!” She burst out sobbing. “I want to see my daughter again. She has a new boyfriend we’ve never met. She’s supposed to visit soon. What will she do without parents? No, no, I have to see her again. This can’t be happening!” She covered her face with her hands, violent sobs wracking her body. “It can’t end like this. I have a long life to live. I want to see Olivia get married some day. I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to die!”

  Ben pulled her close, trying to comfort her. He couldn’t let on how utterly dizzy with panic he was himself. He needed to be strong for Kate. He had to do something!

  “Pilot,” he shouted, “we need to complete the mission. It is time to refuel and restock. I command you to land this helicopter at once.” He wondered if should overpower the pilot and take over the controls. He stared at the myriad of buttons and levers in the cockpit and realized he wouldn’t have the faintest clue on how to fly this thing.

  “You need to land,” Ben said again. His voice quavered.

  The pilot mumbled to himself. He jerked the lever to the right and left, swerving around building after

  building. The tall, rectangular structures zoomed by on both sides, a blur of grey and white lights.

  It was no use. They were doomed. The pilot was lost in shell-shock land.

  Ben pulled Kate close and closed his eyes, saying a prayer for the first time in his life. “Please, God, please . . .” He kept his eyes pressed closed, waiting for the impact that was sure to come, or the sound of air-to-air missiles.

  He felt a sudden jolt beneath him. He opened his eyes. The helicopter was touching down on top of the hotel helipad. The machine came to a stop, the blades still whirling overhead.

  A moment later, police officers surrounded the helicopter. Ben, afraid to jump out for fear of being shot by the cops or decapitated by the whirling blades above, sat frozen in his seat. Kate gripped his leg, gasping.

  The officers opened the door, yanked the pilot out, and threw him to the ground. Men wearing SWAT uniforms pointed long rifles at his head. Shouting, they pulled Kate out and threw her to the ground as well. She lay on her stomach on the cold concrete, spread-eagled in her elegant black cocktail dress. The SWAT team then yanked Ben out and flung him to the concrete. The blades whirled loudly overhead, and for one nonsensical moment, Ben wondered if the helicopter would take off by itself. A SWAT officer pressed the tip of a cold steel rifle against Ben’s skull as police helicopters circled overhead.

  The SWAT officers read them their Miranda Rights. The pilot struggled against the handcuffs, screaming about gooks and Charlie and Nam.

  Ben looked over and caught a glimpse of Kate’s face. Her hands were behind her back. A muzzle of a rifle pressed her cheek into the concrete. Her face was contorted in tears. She caught his eye.

  “Some date,” she said. She bit her quivering lip. “Some fucking date.”

  “Calls for a refund,” Ben tried to joke. “And a one-star rating on Yelp.”

  Uh oh. That didn’t go over well, based on the homicidal look on her face.

  CHAPTER 11

  Food Fetish

  Ben followed his wife dejectedly down the hall to their suite. She inserted the key-card into the slot and pushed open the door. She didn’t give the beautifully appointed room—or him—a second glance. For an instant, he thought about rushing ahead of her and throwing the rose petals on the bed, but then figured that wouldn’t go over well.

  Some romantic evening. Four hours of interrogation at the police station (with the FBI implying they were terrorists and making subtle references to waterboarding) had definitely not been on the agenda.

  After their ordeal, Kate had been in no mood for dinner. They’d missed their reservations, anyway. In fact, she’d wanted to take the first cab home, but Ben had convinced her to at least spend the night in the hotel since they were already there and had pre-paid the room.

  She dropped her overnight bag on the floor and went straight to the bed. She crawled in without changing her dress, and then pulled the covers up to her chin. Her face looked wan and pale against the crisp pillowcase, and her previously well-coiffed hair fanned out in frizzy tufts around her head. Her eye make-up was smeared, and her cheeks were smudged with black.

  Ben felt sorry for her. He hadn’t planned for the night to go this way. He swallowed and wiped his damp forehead. Everything he touched turned to maggot-infested dog shit, it seemed.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her leg under the covers. “I’m sorry, honey. I really am. I had no idea it would turn out like that.”

  She pulled the covers tightly around her and gave him a weak smile. “It’s okay. I know you tried.” She paused. “But didn’t you at least check out the helicopter company first before hiring them?”

  “Yes, I did.” He rubbed his chin, silently cursing Sal. “But their webpage didn’t say anything about employing shell-shocked Nam vets.”

  She rolled over. “I feel dizzy,” she whispered. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life. I thought I’d never see Olivia again. I thought we were going to die.” She raised a trembling hand to her forehead. “I have a terrible headache. I need to sleep.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning. Maybe tomorrow we can have a nice breakfast, try the pool, take in some sights . . .” Hump like rabbits on top of the sheets. . .

  What the hell? Why was he thinking about sex at a time like this? He was one sick dude, that was for sure. Self-centered, too. Poor Kate. Look what she’d just been through, and here he was thinking about getting some, as usual. He needed to think of her feelings and what she’d just been through, not the paper-thin skin of his bloated turquoise balls chafing against his pants. Sure, guys released stress through sex (after all, he’d been traumatized, too, if the damp tire tread in his boxers were any indication), but that was no excuse. He needed to think of her right now, not himself. No wonder Kate didn’t want to have sex

  with him. He was one selfish bastard.

  He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Sleep well, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Can you turn out the light, please?”

  When Ben awoke early the next morning, Kate was still asleep beside him, snoring softly. He got up, tiptoed to the phone, and dialed room service. In a low voice, he ordered pancakes, eggs, and bacon, the same meal Christian Grey always ordered for Anastasia, along with a pot of black tea.

  When Kate awoke, the meal was spread out on the small white table, filling the room with its greasy aroma.

  She stretched, yawned, and looked around. Her gaze found Ben, who was sitting calmly at the table with his hands clasped in front of him.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked in a hopeful voice. The previous night seemed like a bad dream to him. He hoped it was to her as well. A very distant bad dream.

  “I slept okay.” She pulled herself up on one elbow. “You ordered food?”

  “Yep.” He was proud of himself, taking charge the way she liked.


  She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t feel well. I think I’ll just have coffee.” She got up and padded to the table. Her black dress was rumpled, and there were still smears of mascara on her cheeks.

  He poured her a cup of tea. “Drink,” he commanded, holding out the cup.

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean, drink?”

  That tone always worked for Christian Grey. “Drink.”

  She stared at him. “Don’t order me around, Ben. I had enough of that with the SWAT team last night, thank you very much.”

  He put the cup down and nudged it toward her. “Drink.”

  She scowled. “What has gotten in to you this morning? Fine, if it’s so important to you, I’ll drink.” She took the cup in her hands. She gazed down at it, a furrow appearing between her brows. “Is this tea? You know I hate tea.”

  “Drink,” he again commanded.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me, Ben, or you’ll be walking home. Alone.”

  He gulped. Maybe he was coming on too strong with the Christian Grey tactic. “How about some

  food?” he offered in a more polite tone. He got up and pulled out a chair for her.

  She sat, her eyes roving over the table. “Not exactly Vegan or gluten free, is it?” She met his eyes, a frown forming. “Did you even check to see if they offered those choices?”

  He shrugged and waved a nonchalant hand. “Vegan, schmegan. Isn’t it mostly semantics, anyway?”

  She gasped and crossed her arms. “It is most definitely not semantics! I’ve been a Vegan for eighteen years and you know it. I don’t believe in eating animal products, and I’m not changing now. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

  Uh oh, she didn’t look too happy. This Christian-Grey-dominant thing wasn’t going over very well this morning. He needed to try a different angle. “Sorry, hon, I just thought we could change things up a bit.” He gave her his pleading look—the puppy-dog eyes that sometimes worked when he’d accidentally-on-purpose forgotten to mow the lawn or take out the trash. “Can’t you eat meat just this once? Or gluten? The food will give you strength. You need to regain your strength after last night . . . and for what I have in mind.” He winked broadly. Yep, I’m definitely channeling Christian Grey to a T.