“I know it’s an airport.”
“Then why are we here?” she challenges, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin haughtily.
It pains me not to laugh at her attitude. She’s so fucking defiant. That might be a turn off for some guys, but I love it. She speaks her mind and takes no shit. Her confidence and boldness is part of the reason I’m attracted to her.
“Reasons.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” Her glare turns deadly. “For now,” I add.
Parking the car, I shut off the engine. I undo my seatbelt, turn in my seat to face her and arch one brow. “Get out of the car, sweetheart.”
She snorts. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
I grin and I notice the way her breath catches.
She likes when I smile.
“Come on,” I encourage. Leaning into her, I brush hair from her shoulder. “You’re so close to answers, let’s not stall now.”
Her eyes zero in on my lips and I back away, quickly exiting the car. It’s not that I don’t want to kiss her, but I know if I do I won’t want to stop at kissing. I’m addicted to her and she doesn’t even know it.
She follows me into the small terminal, looking at me curiously when I offer no explanation as we’re checked by the security.
“How are you today, Mr. Miller?” Joe, one of the security guards asks, even as he checks my ID. He’s a “by the book” kind of man.
“I’ve told you, call me Jamie.” I walk through the metal detector and wait for Miranda to do the same.
Even though the airport is as small as they come and only for privately owned planes, we still have to go through a small search. It’s definitely not as extensive as flying out of Dulles, the nearest international airport, but it still seems overboard to me.
Joe hands me my ID back and I return it to my wallet. Now that we’re clear, I reach for Miranda’s hand. She looks at my outstretched hand with surprise before slowly taking it. I lead her out of the building, feeling the pulse and vibration of all the questions in her body as she struggles to keep them all inside.
I’m sure at this point she’s connected the dots, but I still don’t want to say anything yet. I’m bringing her here to offer her a small piece of me. Yeah, it’s not a lot, but it’s something—more than I’ve ever given anyone and I hope she knows that. I don’t share much of myself willingly with anyone. I’ve learned the hard way that people have the tendency to use you, but this brings me joy, and I guess selfishly I want Miranda to see that side of me.
We reach the hangar, and I pull out my key, unlocking the side door.
I flick all the switches and the overhead lights illuminate, blinding us for a moment.
“Holy. Shit.” She exhales, her eyes wide as she looks around.
The hangar is one of the largest ones at this airport, housing three planes.
“Does your friend own one of these?” she asks, still spinning.
“I do.”
She stops, brown eyes wide like a cornered doe. “You own one of these?” She looks at them with even more awe and surprise. “Which one?”
“Take your pick.”
Her jaw drops. “All of them?”
I nod. “That one,” I point to the largest, “is the company jet. So technically I don’t own it, but since I’m now the owner of the company, I do get the final say in its use.” I turn to the middle one. “That’s the newest addition. I wanted something I could fit more people in, but obviously not as big as the jet.”
“How many can fit in it?”
“Ten.” Shoving my hands in my pockets, I swivel to face my favorite plane. The one that means the most to me. “This one is my most prized possession.” I start walking toward the yellow plane. “It can only fit two people.”
She follows and makes a frown at it. “It’s so … tiny.”
I chuckle. “That’s kind of the point of an ultralight aviation.”
“Why is this one special?” She cocks her head, studying me and then the plane. “Is it worth a lot.”
I chuckle. “No, to a lot of people it’s probably a piece of junk. It’s just a basic plane, but … my grandpa got it for me when I got my pilot’s license.”
“That’s why it’s your favorite?” She looks surprised.
I nod. “You can’t put a price on memories.”
I may not seem like the most sentimental person, but I am. When my dad passed away, my grandfather stepped up to the plate, filling that fatherly role I was lacking. He taught me things I’m only beginning to understand. That’s how he worked, though, planting seeds that would later turn into a sprawling forest.
“We’re taking this one up,” I tell her.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Christian Grey, back the fuck up. My ass is not getting in that plane.” She holds her hands in front of her chest, waving them back and forth. When she starts to back up, I grasp her arm to halt her movements.
“I’m an excellent pilot.”
She gives me a bewildered look. “I don’t care if you’re Sully Sullenberger, I’m not getting in that plane.”
Her eyes dart back and forth in fear.
I startle in realization. “Have you never been on a plane?”
She snorts and looks at the ground. “Of course I have.”
“Miranda.”
She utters a reluctant and small, “No.”
Where I still hold her arm, I rub my thumb in soothing circles. “I would never let anything bad happen to you.”
She looks up at me reluctantly, her eyes open but wary. “You can’t make that promise.”
I guess she’s right. I’m something bad and I’ve already happened to her.
But I still want to get her on the plane, show her a piece of my world I don’t share with anyone else.
The skies are where I go when I want to be alone, need the space and time to think. Up there is freedom, down here is chaotic madness.
I run my fingers through my hair, pushing the slightly curled ends away from my eyes. “Please,” I beg, actually beg her. Letting her arm go, I hold my hand out, giving her the choice to take mine. She looks from my outstretched palm, to my eyes, to the plane. She makes the same trek with her gaze two more times. “Trust me.”
She wets her lips with her tongue and closes her eyes. When they open I can see the resolve there.
“Don’t make me regret this, Jamie.”
“I won’t.”
But you might regret me.
15
Miranda
I wonder what series of choices I made in my life that have led me to this moment.
Jamie straps me into the two-passenger plane, making sure everything is snug and secure, before sticking some kind of noise blocking headphones over my ears.
There’s a reason I’ve never flown in a plane before, just the idea absolutely terrifies me.
Big, hurtling, sheets of metal flying through the air at unnatural speeds seems like a recipe for disaster to me.
But if I was going to get on one of those tin can death traps, I always pictured it being a big, normal, plane. Not a kid’s toy plane, because, let’s be real here, this is basically the glorified version of that.
I might pee myself, and if I do, I hope the smell haunts Jamie for the rest of his life. It’s the least of what he deserves for talking me into this mess.
“I’m going to make you do something you absolutely do not want to do as payback for this.”
He places a headset on and shakes his head at me.
He thinks I’m kidding. I’m not.
“I’m thinking I’ll paint you naked.” He smirks. “Never mind, you’ll like that too much. Hmm,” I think, tapping my index finger against my lips. “Perhaps I’ll make you my bitch boy for a day. No,” I shake my head, “somehow that’ll lead to sex. Everything seems to with us,” I grumble. “Ooh, I know.” I snap my fingers. “I’ll make you get a pedicure with me—you’re paying.” H
e makes a face of disgust and I clap my hands, because ding, ding, ding we have a winner.
Jamie ignores me as he pushes buttons and speaks to someone through the headset. The hangar is open and he drives the plane out onto the runway.
I take breaths in and out, in and out. Having a panic attack is the last thing I need to happen right now.
“You ready?” Jamie asks.
I grip the seat between my hands, my knuckles turning white and the plane isn’t even moving right now.
“No,” I blurt. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t do this. Let me out. I am a flightless bird. I like the ground. The ground is nice. I like to get low, the lower the better.”
Jamie busts out laughing at my rambling and I have to suppress my smile, because damn his laugh is sexy.
He says something else to the person through his headset, and then, before I can process, we’re speeding down the runway.
“Jamie!” I scream, grabbing at anything I can hold onto. “I’m going to murder you! I told you I’m a flightless bird! I’m a mother-fucking ostrich in a sea of pigeons!”
Jamie, bastard that he is, doesn’t care.
“Pretty sure that saying is something about flamingos, not an ostrich.”
I glare over at him. “Flock you.”
A scream tears out of me as he pulls back and the plane leaves the ground.
“Oh my God, I’m going to be sick.”
“Vomit bags are under the seat.”
I grab one just in case. As amusing as it would be to throw up all over Jamie’s plane, I know most of it would end up on me, which wouldn’t be cool.
As the plane steadies out, so does my belly.
“Whoa,” I exhale, staring out the windows at the views below. All the farmland laid out in a grid pattern, the tiny cars, and buildings. “The world looks so small up here.”
“I think that’s part of the reason I like it so much,” he admits, flicking some buttons on the dash.
It’s still scary as hell being up so high in this giant flying apparatus, but not as bad as I thought it would be. After all, I haven’t fainted, piddled myself, or died yet.
I can feel Jamie watching me, and without looking at him I say, “Eyes ahead, pilot boy.”
From the corner of my eye I see him shake his head but do as I asked.
I don’t know how long we’re in the air, or how far we go, but I do know when he lands the plane I’m actually a little sad for it to be over. Not that I want to tell him that.
When we’re out of the plane, the first thing I do is pounce on him like some demented cougar—the animal, not the old lady kind—and he jolts back in surprise, but manages to catch my flailing body.
I kiss him, tangling my fingers into his silky locks.
Breaking the kiss, he gives me a little smirk. “Wasn’t so bad, huh?”
I roll my eyes and step out of his embrace, giving his chest a light smack. “Shut up.”
I start to turn away, but his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me back into his hold. My hands land on his biceps and I swear he flexes them on purpose. I haven’t told him, but he looks hot as fuck in his pair of jeans and white tee. It’s the simplest outfit known to man, but one that makes me want to strip off my panties and toss them over my shoulder.
If Jamie ever learns the power this outfit has over me I’m in big trouble.
The get me pregnant kind of trouble, but without the getting me pregnant part.
“I think you like me,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against mine.
My eyes drift closed.
“Never.”
“Mmm,” he hums, pressing his lips against my ear. “I know I like you.” My heart skips a beat at his words. “I shouldn’t, but I do. It scares me, but I can’t stay away.”
My fingers dig into his arms, but he makes no move to pull away.
“I swore I’d never go down this path again, but I can’t stay away from you.” My breath catches at his confession. “There are so many reasons why I should walk away from you. For starters, I’m no good for you. You’re too young and deserve more than someone like me, a jaded, workaholic, single father. You’re a breath of a fresh air and I’m the fire that steals all your oxygen.”
I lean my body into his, not sure what to say in response. His hand comes up to cup the back of my neck and we stand there wrapped in each other, neither of us wanting to move.
Finally, I find my voice. “Maybe we shouldn’t overthink things. Just enjoy the now. Think you can do that?”
His chuckle is warm. “I’m not very good at that, but I can try.”
I hug him closer, resting the side of my face against his chest. “We’re the most illogical of the illogical.”
He combs his fingers through my hair. “I think I’ve spent way too much time with you, considering that made sense.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see. “I wish I didn’t like you. This was easier when I hated you. It was just…”
“Sex,” he finishes for me.
“Yeah.” I swallow, trying not to let fear settle in my veins. I don’t know where this thing with the two of us is headed, but I know in my gut there’s a very real chance I could get my heart broken.
I look up at him, pressing my chin against his chest as I do. I love that he’s taller than me, but not too tall. “What does this mean? Are we dating?”
He gently clasps my face between his hands like I’m something precious to cherish. “We’ll see where things go. I think we’re both the type of people who don’t like labels, choosing to ride the wave instead.”
Holding the back of his shirt in my fists so he can’t slip away from me, I ask, “Why did you never formally end things with me last time? Why rub another woman in my face?” I hate that this fact still hurts me this much. I normally have such a thick skin, but that hurt.
He exhales a heavy, weighted sigh, still holding my face between those large capable hands of his. I try not to think about how I want them on other parts of my body, especially considering I want the answer to this question more than I want practically anything—even art supplies, and that’s saying something.
“Because I’m an ass.” He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.
“That’s not answer.”
His hazel eyes deepen. “Because,” he swallows thickly, “I was beginning to feel things for you that scared the shit out of me. Things I hadn’t felt since I fell in love with my ex-wife and we know how that turned out. I was afraid of giving you the power to break my heart. I hurt us both instead.”
His answer both pleases and hurts me. “Life’s full of heartbreak. Small fractures and big ones, and some that don’t hurt at the time, but are a deep festering wound later. You can’t avoid it.”
“I can’t avoid you.”
God, I want to kiss him. So I do.
I feel like I’m always the one initiating it, but as soon as our lips touch it’s explosive. There’s no knowing where I end and he begins.
He devours me slowly, like I’m a delicious dessert he wants to cherish every bite of.
My fingers skim under his t-shirt, tracing the contours of his chest. He’s not a sex-pack abs kind of guy—like a six-pack, only sexier—but he’s still fit and in shape. I trace the contours of his muscles and mewl in protest when he stops kissing me. Thankfully, it’s only long enough for him to get rid of that pesky white shirt. I’m sure it’s going to get dirty on the ground, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Jamie,” I moan his name as he kisses the column of my throat.
I gasp when his tongue glides against my collarbone. I think my lady bits tingle too.
“I want you naked,” he growls.
“Here?” I blurt out, coming to my senses. “Someone might see.”
He shakes his head against me, already reaching for my shirt. “No, this is my hangar. They won’t come out here unless I call them to.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve never taken a woman on my plane before.
You’re the first.”
“Me?”
“I’ve never had sex in here either.”
“You’re being very convincing.”
“Miranda,” he pulls back, looking into my eyes. His hazel orbs are serious. “I’ve fucked you a million different ways, but please, I’m begging you—let me make love to you.”
Jesus Christ, I can’t argue with that.
I nod, a whispered “yes” leaving me breathily.
He takes my hand and I follow him onto the company jet he pointed out earlier.
“Jamie?”
He gives me a boyish smirk, causing my insides to twist. “What?” He blinks innocently. “It has a bed.”
I shake my head, but I’m too turned on to care. Besides, the plane is his.
He tugs me down a hall, not even giving me a chance to check things out, and into a darkened bedroom. He flips a switch and a light turns on beside the bed, illuminating the room in an orange glow. I get a brief glimpse of the rich wood details, plush carpeting, and a king size bed, before Jamie kisses me once more, blocking everything out.
We fall onto the bed together, wrinkling the soft covers.
I expect him to tear my clothes off like usual, but he wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to make love to me. He kisses me gently, exploring my body carefully before he slowly removes my clothes one item at a time. By the time I’m naked beneath him, he’s only left in his boxer-briefs. I wiggle, needing to feel the press of his body into mine. His erection pushes against me and I reach between us, pushing the fabric down a bit to let the tip peek out.
I rub my thumb around the tip and air hisses between his teeth.
“Fuck, Miranda. I need you to touch me so bad.”
I push his underwear down further and he does the rest of the work, shucking them on the floor with the rest of our clothes.
I wrap my hand around his cock, rubbing up and down and rotating my wrist.
Desperately Seeking Landlord Page 8
