White Hot Holidays 25: Miss Behavior

by Ann Wesley Hardin

  He drew in a deep breath and eased his cock out of her pussy. Her insides deflated as he left and the chilled air on her wet legs made her shiver. Gage plopped down on the backseat, disposed of the condom in a wadded tissue and reached into the cargo hold for a sleeping bag. “Sweetheart, I didn’t start this business to build an empire. I just wanted to have fun.”

  “But—”

  “Home early every night, plenty of free time to shoot shit with the boys. Working’s not my gig. There’s more to life and I want it.” He shook out the sleeping bag and motioned her over. She snuggled next to his comforting warmth while he tucked the fuzzy fleece around them.

  “So do I,” she argued. “But you have to have money to live off of first.”

  He shrugged. “Money’s not everything.”

  “It is if you need to eat.” And stay warm. Man his lean body churned heat like a furnace. No wonder he wasn’t concerned about freezing to death. Lorna huddled closer and he welcomed her with a full body embrace. One last shiver rattled her teeth as the chill in her bones subsided.

  “I trade flight services with the farmers for food. Earn enough cash from people like you to maintain the plane and a small house…”

  Lorna was no expert but she knew a plane like this had to cost a quarter mil. Even pre-owned. He had to work harder than he let on.

  “Life is cheap here…”

  Not that cheap.

  “But it’s good. Couple times a year Arnie, my mechanic, throws half a pig in my deep freeze. His family has a hog farm. We all take care of each other.”

  Fascinating. She wondered what it would be like to get up every day after the sun rose and get home before it set. She could envision running over to a farm—on a road devoid of traffic—and bartering for fresh eggs. But what did she have to offer? Lessons on saying please and thank you? “I can’t believe people still do business that way.”

  “You have a corporate mentality.” He stated the fact in a carefully modulated tone and though she felt he meant it in a derogatory sense, she also got the impression he didn’t want to insult her. Whatever. He was entitled to his opinions.

  She nodded. “My parents were professionals and they expected their children to be too. My brother bailed out. I stayed.”

  “The good girl.”

  “Not after just now.” She grinned at him and he grinned back.

  Adjusting the cover so their shoulders became exposed, he reached out one long finger and touched the tip to her erect nipple. “How did it feel to be a bad girl for once?” The finger followed the circle of her areola. He dipped his head and she prepared for the pleasure-shock of a suckle. Instead he pressed a gentle kiss on her breast.

  Great? Wonderful? I want to be a bad girl for the rest of my life? “I can’t remember. Want to remind me?”

  His head shot up and he sent her a wicked glance. “Well, I did promise to lick you clean, didn’t I?”

  “I love a man of his word.”

  An odd light pranced around in his eyes. “Then I’m your man.”

  Could he be right?

  Gage pushed her onto her back in a half-sprawl. Outside, the wind howled frightfully and icy snow pelted the fuselage like forbidden pebbles at a bedroom window. Through the steamed glass the pale gray sky grew smokier. Soon it would be dark and they’d be enveloped in even thicker isolation.

  Lorna shivered as their bodies broke contact and Gage slipped under the covers. In the eerie, black and white light she could barely make out the shape of his head as it bobbed relentlessly south. Because she couldn’t see him, he ceased suddenly to exist and she closed her eyes to relish the fantasy of an invisible lover.

  He started with her chest. Soft, lapping strokes of his tongue, and his lips open and vacuuming her flesh gently into the firm circle of his mouth before releasing it in a tender poof of air. She tucked her arms under the sleeping bag and braced his head in her hands, letting her fingers lace through the silk threads of his hair.

  It felt like a misty waterfall, so sleek and femininely soft. She had a moment’s wish that her own long, thick sable hair could feel like this to him. But its strands were coarser and stick-straight. Oh well. He didn’t seem to object. He seemed so laid back and accepting of her.

  It struck her how honest and open he’d been about his life, his goals. He’d told her significant things about his nature. Had no problem showing her who he was.

  That took a lot of security, she thought as his tongue snaked down her stomach. A lot of trust. So unlike most of the men she ran into on business, men who were constantly on guard and absolutely bloated with stress in their dog-eat-dog mission.

  She’d always pulsed to the corporate beat, its energy lifting and propelling her forward. Now, as Gage beat her off, as his own sexual hunger lifted her into a whole new and exciting realm, she wondered if she’d been actively seeking success or merely going along with the flow.

  The warm tip of his tongue invaded her belly button. She giggled and tried to pull his head away. His tongue held firm, tap-dancing in the crevice and making her muscles convulse in hysteria.

  “Stop,” she gasped. “That tickles.”

  “Oh really.” His deep voice sounded muffled. “Is this better?” His nose jabbed the valley between her thigh and crotch. Her body jolted and a volley of giggles erupted. She’d never known she was ticklish down there! Involuntarily, her legs flew open and up around his shoulders and Gage said, “Open sesame. Works every time.”

  Every time. She would not let that statement kill the moment. Every time. Did she expect a man with such expert knowledge of a woman’s pleasure to be inexperienced? Every time. Did she think she was unique among women? Unique to him?

  Oh man. She really needed to grow up. “You know what female buttons to punch,” she said before she could stop herself and regretted it when his tongue froze on her mound.

  The blanket flew off and he reared up over her. “I wasn’t comparing you.”

  She couldn’t see anything but the faint glimmer of his eyes. “It’s okay,” she said softly. And it was. Sort of. “I guess I’m just green.” With jealousy and naïveté. Yet she had no right to be jealous.

  “I like you green. And I’m going to shut my yap right now and show you how much.”

  “You can do that with your mouth closed?” She smiled and heard a return smile in his voice.

  “Think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

  A nod rustled her hair against the leather seat.

  “Well you’re not. I can do it with a closed mouth.” He fell silent for a moment. “Just have to figure out how.”

  Lorna laughed her head off and Gage joined her in a resonant baritone.

  Chapter 3

  Nice save, Archer. Wouldn’t do to have her go all pissy on him now. Not when he was gaining ground, making an inroad.

  He could tell he’d got her thinking, analyzing whether she currently had the life she really wanted. The emergency landing had catapulted her into doubt—as these events had a tendency to do. His job now was to nurture the bad girl the crash had released.

  Couldn’t ask for a sweeter job, either, he thought as he spread her pussy and flicked a tentative lash. Her flavor dissolved on his tongue like cotton candy and smelled as addictively sugary. Her thighs against his cheeks felt as billowy and silky as her breasts. A vise he could lodge in contentedly for a long, long time. Maybe forever.

  If he could get her to see the world through his eyes. Get her to live a little. Sure he worked hard. She didn’t know he also had a taxicab company, rounding out his own transportation monopoly in Flintlock. But ultimately he was a big fish in a small pond. And that’s exactly the way he liked it.

  Maximum pay for minimum stress. And plenty of time for a future family. Which is what he wanted to start working on soon.

  Lorna called out to his inner caveman. He wanted to plant his seed in her and watch it grow. It’d surprised him at first—the violence with which he craved her—but he wasn’t
about to waste time analyzing why. Didn’t see the point. Some things just were and explanations were unnecessary.

  Besides, she didn’t call herself Miss Behavior for no reason. Everything she was inside was visibly displayed. Just took the right man to see it.

  She wiggled around to get comfortable and he squeezed her thighs and pulled her pussy into his face. Her mewing sounds of pleasure splashed over his psyche, refreshing his focus on the task at hand.

  Her clit was as hard and erect as a BB, her lips engorged and succulent. He sucked them into his mouth as he would her nipple and her moans reverberated around the tiny cabin. Her legs were perched on his shoulders, so he slid his arms underneath her thighs and fanned his hands out over her stomach, effectively pinning her against his mouth. Then he started sucking and licking like crazy.

  Her back arched and her arms flew wide, fingernails scrabbling for purchase as shudders racked her body. Gage grinned. Surely the woodland animals outside were diving for cover at her screams.

  A trickle of cream dribbled out of her convulsing pussy and he eagerly lapped it up. When the intricacies of its delicate flavor spread out over his taste buds and collided with the unique aroma of her arousal, the potently stimulating combination swirled up and imprinted her name on his brain.

  No matter what he had to do. No matter what he had to say. There would be Miss Behavior in his bed for the rest of his life.

  * * * * *

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. Her clit felt so swollen and sensitive his relentless tongue nearly hurt. Yet it didn’t. But the pleasure—so keen—resembled pain. And torture, and can’t-live-without-it-anymore agony.

  So this is what all the fuss is about, she thought with her last brain cell. No one had ever even touched her down there. She couldn’t believe she’d survived without all this time and had no intention of ever doing so again.

  Would make a snappy personal ad. Must eat pussy. And be good at it.

  Or better yet maybe she should just try keeping Gage. If past partners were anything to go by, men who enjoyed this didn’t wander down the pike too often.

  But could she base a lifetime relationship on someone’s willingness to eat her out?

  His tongue against her clit said oh yeah.

  The sopping wet heat of his mouth bathed her cunt while his fingers massaged the fur of her mound. His satiny head of hair between her legs felt like part of her and she pressed him between soft thighs to make him stay. He murmured and lifted his face for a moment and the five o’clock shadow on his chin sanded her skin.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  “I won’t.”

  One hand slid down and he pressed a fingertip against her clit. Slowly his thumb circled the nub while his tongue started probing her opening. Pleasure heaved through her in waves, in sharp, lashing slaps of delight making her body thrash and surge on the squeaking leather seat.

  Outside, the storm picked up speed and gusts of wind rocked the fuselage. The moaning vibrations of the plane honed the singing nerves in her body until she came with an explosive shout.

  Frantic fingers tore at Gage’s hair as she tried vainly to escape his onslaught. Her heels pounded his muscular back and her hips bucked hard against his face.

  But he didn’t let go. He rode it out to the end, and finally she slumped, gasping, spent and on the verge of a coma, yet feeling more electrified than she ever had before in her life.

  “Squeaky clean.” Gage slid up behind her on the narrow seat and spooned her tightly to keep her from tumbling off. She scooted backward into his embrace, feeling his curly chest hairs tickling her spine as he breathed against her head.

  “Literally. That was wonderful.” A deep need to confess oral sex innocence welled within. Not only did she want to thank him for the staggering experience, she also wanted him to be aware that she might not be able to please him the same way without instruction. But talk about lame. To be thirty years old and this naïve. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

  She had to tell him though. It’s wasn’t as if he wouldn’t immediately know.

  She imagined him pulling her off his cock in disgust and vicarious mortification made her spill.

  “No one’s ever done that for me,” she said quickly. “And I’ve never done it either. But I want to. For you.”

  Behind her, Gage froze. She closed her eyes and turned her face as far away from his as she could.

  A long sibilant breath whistled out of his mouth. Lorna’s hair ruffled in the breeze. If they’d been in a bedroom, or any room with a closet, she’d have skittered inside and locked the door. But in the Mooney there was no place to hide.

  After a minute a big hand stroked her head. “You really have been a good girl.”

  She nodded and his hand slid down her arm and squeezed it.

  “I’m at a loss here,” he said gently. “Ah. Words aren’t my thing. But have to say right now I feel, uh, good. Yeah. Good. I feel good.”

  “You sure?”

  “Proud too. Kinda want to beat my chest and grunt.”

  She giggled.

  “Also wouldn’t mind killing something. A bear maybe. And dropping it at your feet.”

  She laughed out loud and swiveled to face him in the inky darkness, liking him more by the minute and tentatively wondering if they could actually have something together. “You don’t think I’m lame?”

  “No.” He bussed her nose. “I think a lot of things about you, but lame isn’t one of them.”

  “What do you think about me?” That you’re a complete slut and only good for the occasional booty call. She couldn’t blame him if he did. She’d certainly acted like one. Of course, so did he. But she knew a double standard still existed. Still, she had no regrets. None whatsoever. And she’d do it again given the chance. So there.

  “I think,” he said slowly and carefully, “that you’re beautiful. And hot. With a kick-ass body.”

  Yes! “Go on.”

  “Smart.”

  Her chin lifted. “I certainly am.”

  “Ambitious…” He trailed off meaningfully and her radar went up. Uh oh.

  “But?” she provided.

  He paused and her breath hitched. Here’s where he’d hit her with the bad parts.

  “I think you’re unhappy and you seized this chance to make a change.”

  Words weren’t his thing?

  Contrary emotions tumbled around in her mind like laundry. He was right. But wrong too. Where was he right and where was he wrong? She peered through the shadows and found the soft glow of his pupils. “I’m not using you, if that’s what you think.”

  A flash of white teeth. “Use away.”

  “I’m not unhappy. I’m just…” Discontent. Itchy. Something abstract that she couldn’t put her finger on.

  Emotionally constipated might be the phrase she was looking for. She gave a mental snort. Today she’d realized her life had giant holes in it. Things she wanted were missing. But she was practical enough to know that one couldn’t have everything.

  Isn’t that what her mother had drilled into her? She couldn’t have fun and a stable life. She needed to be able to take care of herself and not rely on a husband to do it for her. Because that was placing not only her happiness but also her entire future in another person’s hands. And God only knew what mess that person might make of it.

  Lord. Judith Merryfield was one inflexible cookie. Lorna’d never stopped to analyze her. Never looked at her mother through the eyes of someone who’d almost died. In a blink. That’s how fast it could’ve all ended.

  What good would stability do her if there were no future? Yet, what if there were a future and she gambled away a cushy early retirement for an easier present?

  “Confused?” he asked.

  “Conflicted,” she burst out. “I don’t want to be only about work, work, work. But I need to provide for my future. I do love my job. The newspaper column is a stepping-stone. I can go on the lecture circuit, make big money for b
usinesses.”

  “What for?” he shot back. “So the rich stay rich? Your column entertains people. Everyday folks like the ones in Flintlock.” He sat up and raked fingers through his hair, scrubbing his face and giving his head a vigorous shaking.

  Lorna sat up too and smoothed the sleeping bag over their legs. “That’s not enough. People can get entertainment elsewhere. What they need are the tools to succeed in big corporations, stay employed.”

  He leaned forward and perched an elbow on one knee, looking back over his shoulder at her. “You can do that in your column. Run a special weekly feature. A series of lessons.”

  She’d never thought of that. “You’d reach a hell of a lot more people that way. Everyone reads your column.

  Shit. You could write a book.”

  She launched a fingernail into her mouth. Was he onto something?

  “You could stay at home and do it. Work in your pajamas. Live anywhere you wanted.”

  This was sounding better and better. Except she’d been so busy all these years. Her whole life, in fact. She’d never taken a moment to breathe.

  The lifestyle Gage suggested constituted nothing less than a monumental shifting of gears. A one-hundred-eighty-degree revolution. What if she got bored? “I wouldn’t know what to do with all that free time.”

  “Have afternoon delight with me on a regular basis.”

  She slapped him on the back. “Right.”

  “Or,” he said simply, turning fully towards her and slipping his fingers through her hair. “Just live.”

  * * * * *

  Lorna felt it before she heard it—a pulse like a giant heartbeat shaking the Mooney, filling the field, growing louder and closer. Cozied up inside the warm cocoon of the sleeping bag and ensconced in Gage’s strong, comforting embrace, she experienced a return-to-the-womb transcendence, before realizing where the sound was coming from.

  “They’re here,” Gage mumbled.

  “Oh my God. I’m naked!” A harsh white beam sliced the twilight and lasered through the cockpit window. She squinted and tried to shrink further into the sleeping bag, but Gage got in the way and the powerful searchlight filled every crevice. “I am so busted,” she shrieked. Life was too unfair! What kind of sick gods punished a girl for indiscretion on the eve of her doom?