“Lucky all right,” Gage agreed. “Never thought the clearing might be a lake. Just looked handy at the time.”
Arnie nodded vigorously. “I suggest it looked real sweet.” He turned to Lorna. “You were with him?”
“Yes. A real button-plucker of a landing.”
Arnie’s toothpick tumbled out over his coveralls. “I suggest you marry this girl.” He inserted a fresh one. “Anyway. Fuselage is fine—scratched but we can touch up the paint.” Pause for breath. “I suggest we jack her up, lower the gear and get the flock out.”
Gage’s lips twitched. “I suppose the engine works.”
“Oh yeah. Yeah. We replaced the turbo. She’s rarin’ to go.”
“Did you install the first turbo?” Lorna squeaked.
“Hell no,” Arnie barked. “Some fancy schmancy outfit I warned Gage about. I got on the horn, chewed the holy livin’ hell out of ‘em for thirty-six minutes forty-five seconds. Had a nice new engine sitting on my lap that evening. Compliments of the company courier.”
Apparently, besides a measuring tape, a chronograph and a lifetime supply of toothpicks, Arnie also had clout.
Gage crouched, running a hand along the ice. Arnie got down with him. “Nothing against Mooneys,” he opined. “But a low wing is not the best design for this scenario. I suggest a soft field technique.”
“What’s the diameter of the pond?” Gage asked, squinting across. It was the precise question Arnie’d been waiting for.
“Three thousand twelve feet, nine and a quarter inches,” he said. “Just got to get her up eighty-nine feet, five inches to clear the trees.”
Arnie’d done his homework. Even Lorna had the sense not to doubt his mathematics.
The men straightened up.
“You taking her?” Arnie asked, giving Lorna the once-over. “One hundred and thirty pounds,” he muttered.
How’d he know?
“Add fifteen for the coat and shoes.” He chewed hard on the toothpick. “Your tanks are half full…”
Odd. His dark eyes glowed silver for a second. Must’ve been a reflection off the snow.
“I suggest taking off here will not be a problem.”
“I suggest you’re right, calc head.” Gage said.
The men exchanged glances, wicked grins cutting their faces. Obviously a long, enduring trust cemented them. Gage appeared to have complete faith in Arnie.
And with good reason. He’d just done a series of complicated equations in his head.
Did Lorna have the same faith in Gage?
“Best damn mechanic on the planet,” he said after Arnie trotted off to check a final detail.
“He impressed me, and I don’t know anything about aviation.”
“You know more than he does about one aspect,” Gage said. “Arnie’s never been in a crash.”
“Why? He only flies in planes he maintains?” Lorna joked.
“Nope. He’s never flown at all. He’s afraid.”
Just what I needed to hear. Her chest tightened. “That doesn’t make sense.”
They watched his team laying out what looked like enormous blankets under the Mooney’s wings. To calm her increasingly fearsome thoughts, she tried focusing on the men’s actions and how they were repairing the plane, making it flight worthy and helping the situation.
Under an expert’s eagle eye.
“What’s happening now?”
“Those bladders will inflate and jack the plane so we can lower the landing gear.”
She glanced around the ominously dark, outer circle of towering, snow-laden firs and wondered how the heck they would get up that high. “Are you really using the lake for a runway?”
“Sure.” Gage appeared deep in thought. “As long as I don’t have to abort the takeoff, we’ll be fine.”
“Why would you have to abort?” Her voice turned shrill as she pictured ten-and-a-half additional three-sixties.
“I won’t,” Gage said simply, looping his arm through hers. “I won’t,” he repeated, as if reassuring himself too. He fell into a brooding trance and a lump grew in her throat.
Ice was slippery. Ice was dynamic. “What if the ice breaks?”
Gage snapped out of his spell and grinned at her. “I suggest Arnie has already marked a safe runway.”
“I suggest we make sure.”
Strolling toward the airplane, she wondered what had scared Arnie off flying. Did he know something she didn’t? Statistics said flying was safer than driving. But stats were scant comfort when your airplane broke down in the sky.
As it had once before.
Her palms grew moist—a miracle given the subzero temperatures and her wimpy gloves. Did the ice under her feet just move?
The closer they got to the plane, the quicker her breath came. A giant hand squeezed her chest.
The clatter and smell of the machinery inflating the bladders made her dizzy. As the Mooney ascended gracefully through billowing clouds of steam, the landing gear descended and locked into place. One of the boys scattered a thin layer of snow on the ice.
“Almost ready,” Gage said.
Chest heaving, Lorna collapsed beside the plane and took Gage down with her.
Arnie came running. “I suggest she’s having a panic attack.” He crouched beside her and loosened her scarf.
Gage wrapped himself around her, rocking her gently, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Don’t make me get in that thing,” Lorna wheezed.
“Don’t worry. No one’s going to make you do anything.” Arnie, of all people, understood.
Fighting for control, she felt awful for Gage. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust his ability. It was the thought of lifting off the ground. If the engine failed once, it could fail again. Arnie had “fixed” it in no time flat. What if he made a mistake?
She tried explaining to Gage. But the words came out wrong. “I can’t fly with you.”
Gage stiffened, but didn’t release her.
“Go ahead,” Arnie suggested to Gage. “I’ll drive her home.”
To their supreme credit, neither man tried convincing her how safe AirGage was again, like Gage had at the airport. She would’ve socked him if he did.
“No,” he said. “I’m not going without her. Have one of the boys with an instrument rating fly the Mooney back.”
Arnie’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you suggesting resting a butt that’s not yours in the hot seat?”
Gage cocked a weak smile. “Yeah. That’s what I’m suggesting.”
“Unprecedented.” Arnie stared at Gage, his toothpick looping around in his mouth as his eyes narrowed meaningfully.
“There’s a first for everything,” Gage muttered.
“Sure is.” Arnie grinned. There went that eerie light in his eyes again.
“I’ll fly it, Boss,” one of the younger men hollered. The group stood clustered around the readied aircraft, watching the proceedings with interest.
“Yeah, right Dopey,” Arnie called over his shoulder, without taking his metallic gaze off Gage. “When pigs fly, you can too.”
Lorna recovered enough to laugh. She looked into Gage’s eyes. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
Gage shrugged. “No prob.”
But it would be. If she couldn’t step foot in a plane anymore, how could they manage even a flimsy weekend romance?
Besides, flying was Gage’s life. Would he tolerate a girlfriend turning to goo over it? This was awful. Though her palms were dripping and her lungs nearly closed, it was now, or never. She drew a deep breath. She could do this. She wasn’t a quitter. “Can I sit up front with you?”
Gage brightened. “In the plane? Sure. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“I was afraid in the back by myself.”
“Yeah,” Arnie agreed. “That two feet makes a helluva difference.”
They all laughed. But it did make a difference to Lorna. That way, if they went down again, she’d be in Gage’s lap instead of cli
nging from the rear. “All righty then.”
Gage stood up and hauled her to her feet, tucking her under one strong arm. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered. “Now let’s roll.”
He folded into the cockpit. Lorna stepped onto the wing, white-knuckling the doorframe. Glancing at the stand of trees on the end of the runway, she started quaking uncontrollably.
“Lorna?” Gage reached out, grabbing her arm.
“I can’t.” She pulled away and backed off the wing.
“It’s okay, babe. I understand.” He sounded crestfallen.
Lorna stopped, hair in eyes and gazed at the man she loved. The moment grew heavy with disappointment. “I promise to make Arnie take me straight to your house.” she murmured. But they’d never make it in time for midnight. And she wanted so badly to start the new year in bed with Gage.
He chuckled and winked kindly. “We’ll be okay.”
“Out of my way,” came Arnie’s gruff voice. He elbowed past her and into the backseat, clasping his hands neatly in his lap as if he’d done this every day.
“What took you so long?” Gage grinned.
“Shut up,” Arnie said. “This is to prove my faith in man and machine.” He stared out at Lorna. “Miss, your transportation options just expired. Sometimes even true love needs a swift kick in the ass.”
Her jaw dropped and she had little doubt they’d leave her to scratch a way home if she didn’t follow Arnie’s example. The rest of the crew lined up sloppily. “Pick me,”
“No. Pick me!” Some of them still had baby teeth.
If Arnie could do it, so could she. Amidst raucous applause, Lorna slid in next to Gage. He gripped her knee as the door was sealed and leaned over for a kiss.
“Aw, Jeez,” Arnie cried. “Get a room!”
The Mooney whirred to life, twitching anxiously like Lorna remembered. As the propeller grew translucent with velocity, serenity enveloped her. The fretting of the plane was familiar, normal. Everything was A-okay.
Except Arnie went ballistic.
“Genius Chrysler,” he shouted, saucer-eyed. “Lemme out.”
“Fat chance.” Gage smirked and hit the throttle. They slammed back into the seats, fuselage chattering as it was vacuumed out of the light and down the ice. In seconds they reached the middle of the lake, the black woods twice as close as a blink ago.
Lorna closed her eyes, opened them then closed them again. She cracked a lid just as the Mooney soared majestically in steep ascent. Gage effortlessly cleared the treetops and banked a hard right. The men on the ground cheered wildly as he circled the lake and tipped his wings in salute. Their noise faded gradually, replaced by the comforting whine of the turbo as the Mooney left bad memories behind. Where they belonged. “How ya doing?” Gage shouted back to Arnie. “Some friend you are,” he hollered. Gage flashed brilliant teeth and a pure white joy detonated in Lorna’s heart. She stroked his cheek, melting when he nuzzled into her touch and planted a firm kiss on her palm. She’d never forget the exhilaration in his face, or that he would’ve stayed with her and let someone else fly his beloved plane. She’d never forget Arnie’s grudging chivalry. None of her so-called friends back home would’ve faced down a crippling, lifelong phobia as Arnie’d done for Gage. For her. Not her mother, not her father. No one.
* * * * *
An hour later, Flintlock appeared ahead looking quaint, warm and welcoming nestled in the hill country all alone. She could see smoke streams rising from chimneys and the bright, homey twinkle of Christmas lights.
We all take care of each other.
Gage’s evaluation of the town and its people never rang truer than now. And she so wanted some of that.
After greasing the runway in triumphant landing, Gage suggested dropping Arnie off and going back up to watch the fireworks from the sky. Lorna readily agreed. She wanted to be in the plane where she and Gage started when she proposed a way for them to end up.
“Does this plane have autopilot?” she asked once they’d taken off.
“Yup. Won’t be using it right now, though. Want to swoop around a little. Show you the landscape by moonlight.”
“Can we do that later?” she cooed.
Gage peered at her. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Ah,” she smiled and licked her lips. “I thought you might give me a lesson. Show me what all these buttons and knobs are for.”
He stared at her as if trying to figure out what she was up to, then he shrugged. “No prob. What do you want to know first?”
She stroked her fingers down his crotch. “There are two sticks between your legs. What does this one do?”
He whistled through his teeth and grinned. “Honey, it steers the whole shebang.”
“Thought so.” She leaned over and unzipped his fly, slipping a hand inside and gently unwrapping his cock. Already erect and ready to soar, its swollen bulk popped out easily and stood nearly as tall as the airplane’s stick. She lowered her head until her breath fanned his soft skin. “I’m going to try using it and see if I know how. You might have to instruct me, but let’s see how far I can get on my own.”
“Sounds good to me,” he groaned and reached out to flip a switch on the control panel.
Lorna nuzzled his satiny head, gripping his shaft and sliding it gently back and forth across her face until the musky scent of his arousal clung to her skin. He smelled like sex and salvation all rolled into one and a primitive, subconscious knowledge of what to do next flooded into her psyche.
Her tongue darted out and lapped a damp circle around his rim. The hardness of it encased in such succulent, velvety flesh ignited a curiosity she didn’t know she had, a need to taste and flick over and over as if testing if it would feel the same way each time.
Gage sucked air through his teeth and gripped her head, repeatedly winding his fingers through her hair and bucking gently in the cramped confines. “That’s good, baby.” His words ripped the air. “Just like that.”
She nibbled down the length of him and around the other side, applying pressure with one hand and fondling his balls with the other.
“God,” he groaned. A dewdrop perched at the fissure on his tip. Lorna tapped it with a fingertip and spread it around his head. Another one appeared immediately and her mouth watered at the sight. Slowly, tentatively, she snaked her tongue out to taste it. The salty yet sweet flavor melted into her taste buds and disintegrated and a sudden hunger for more made her suck him fully into her mouth.
Gage writhed and his knee hit the stick, disarming the autopilot and wobbling the plane. Through pleasure-drugged eyes, he adjusted everything and set it again and the adrenaline soak from another near miss made them lock gazes in unbridled lust.
“We were meant for each other,” she said before wetting her palm and closing it over his dense shaft.
“Damn straight,” Gage growled. “Now give me the damn blowjob.”
“There’s more where this came from if I stay,” she hinted.
“Oh, you’re staying. Now, the blowjob?”
She opened her mouth and inserted his cock, tightening her lips and tongue around it in a hot, wet embrace. He thrust into her, fucking her mouth deeply and she kept the tension even as he slid out…
“I mean for good.”
In…
Out…
“Living here.”
In…
Out…
“Working from home like you said. Afternoon delight and everything.”
In all the way and his dam broke, flooding her mouth with a sizzling spurt of cum. She rolled it around her tongue like a wine taster and used it as lubrication to palm him through the aftershocks and mini-spurts. When his cock softened in her hand and his hips slumped into the seat cushion, she lifted her head slightly and licked her fingers.
He was delicious. He was heroic. And he was hers.
His breathing evened out and he scrubbed his face with his hands. After a moment, as if suddenly grasping what she’d said, he slid
a finger under her chin and coaxed her up next to him. “You mean that?” She gazed into his eyes and what she saw there made her heart thump so wildly she couldn’t speak. So she nodded.
“God, I love you!” He yanked her in tightly and this time, she knocked the stick.
The plane took a sharp dip and a yelp rose up from her soul. “I love you, too.”
They broke into laughter as Gage righted the plane and let out a coyote whoop.
Below them the sky began to explode in shimmering flowers of colorful fire. “It’s a new year,” Gage murmured, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“A new life,” she whispered.
“Full of Miss Behavior.”
--The End--
About The Author
They say there are eight million stories in the Naked City, and I think Jaci Burton wrote every single one of them. I don’t know. She must’ve sneezed and missed a deadline because here I am at Ellora’s Cave, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.
Addicted to love? You bet. As well as all its sensual side effects. Great sex comes in many packages and I prefer mine wrapped in laughter, irony and sweet, edible substances. When not writing at the computer, I can be found in a fencing salle, cruising Internet auctions for vintage airline memorabilia, yelling at my children to let mommy write, or working my schleppy nine-to-fiver. When I grow up, I’d like to be a full time Ellora’s Cave writer, but until then, I’ll just frolic in the outskirts of the Naked City. Bon Voyage!
Ann welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
Also By Ann Wesley Hardin
Coffee, Tea Or Lea?
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Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
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White Hot Holidays 25: Miss Behavior Page 5
