The Wilson Mooney Box Set

by Gretchen de La O

  The rails of the helicopter scraped and dragged across the tarmac before we began to ascend toward the heavens. Fear swelled in my heart and clutched the bubble of panic that clogged my chest and robbed my breath. My hand tightened around Max’s and I felt him squeeze back.

  Suddenly, there was nothing but blue sky enveloping us and the burden of the hammering blades that kept us afloat. Lines of sweat trickled and itched down the back of my neck. I couldn’t force myself to look down out the peek-a-boo window by my feet. I felt the same fear that had encompassed me when I was on the ski-lift with Wayne. The helicopter’s back and forth movements, the wind that rambled and shook the bolts holding plastic to metal—all caused me to drink shallowly from the stagnant air in our delicate bubble we occupied, hovering in the sky.

  Max must have noticed how freaked I was when I grabbed the charm of my necklace and slid it ritually back and forth along it’s chain; or maybe it was the shade of white that flushed across my skin and made me look like a corpse. Either way, he unsnapped his five-harness seatbelt and slid close to me.

  “You okay?” he shouted. I couldn’t answer him. I tried, but I couldn’t voice the words that filled my head with the terror of falling out of the sky. He rested his hand on my knee before sliding it up across my thigh. The warmth of his touch began to wrestle my fears back to the unsettled place they’d come from. I was able to force a smile. I guess it was enough—he nodded and started to point out landmarks below us the size of nickels and dimes. I tried to focus, but the idea of looking down at what we could possibly crash-land into just didn’t sit right with me. At least in a plane you have the chance of surviving—hell, maybe even walking away—but in a helicopter…I just couldn’t find the ability to feel safe.

  When the helicopter jolted and dropped in elevation, a whoop-tee-whoo collected down in my pelvis, and I shrieked. My heart ended up in my throat and my eyes were floating somewhere above my head. My hands and feet tingled with rippling pressure that pulsated up my limbs, and every muscle in my body snapped rigid. I could honestly say—if I knew what it felt like to have my life flash before my eyes, I bet it just happened. I heard people say that images of your life blaze across your sight, like pictures in a slideshow, only faster. I saw my grandma in her casket, my mom driving away, my grandpa collapsed in his driveway, Emily jumping into Max’s arms, Max ignoring me in class, me crying into the leather couch in Cindy’s bathroom at her cabin; every feeling of inadequacy, abandonment, and inferiority inundated my body. Pretty sad that, when I thought I was going to die, it was all the crappy moments of my life that came flooding back.

  Max bounced up and across to the other side of the bench seat we were on. But once he regained control of his weightless body, he scrambled back next to me and wrapped his arms around me. He pulled back my headset and pressed his mouth against my ear.

  “Wilson, it’s okay. You’re safe. It was turbulence, that’s all,” his voice was sharp enough to pierce my eardrum. All I could do was nod.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  I pressed my head against his mouth, and I closed my eyes, waiting for my birthday surprise to be over.

  Forty minutes later, the helicopter started its descent to the Aspen Airport. Max held me the entire time. When he could, he would reassure me with stories about being a kid and riding in helicopters. And when he felt he needed to, he refreshed his grasp on me. The pilot insisted that Max buckle up, but Max wouldn’t let go of me until he knew I was okay. Finally, as we were about to land, Max snapped into his harness and grabbed my hand. His thumb, so soft, caressed the back of my hand. Relief flooded my entire body. I was so glad we were done with this part of our trip.

  The helicopter teased and toiled with my emotions—elation that we were landing; apprehension that we had to plunk down onto the tarmac. Why couldn’t there be a more delicate way to end the hell that danced across my psyche? With a vibrating thud, the rails of the helicopter met the huge, white outlines. The high-pitched whistle of the blades slowed to a muffled ringing, and to lengthen my hell, I had to wait for the pilot.

  The minute the pilot okayed my exit, the headphones came off and the harness was released. The flimsy door that separated us from life and death swung open, and I hopped down to greet the tarmac with numb feet and wobbly legs.

  The freezing air stung my lips and burned the passageway down into my lungs. Goose bumps, chased with chills, swelled up and down my arms. Within seconds, the tip of my nose and the edges of my ears found out just how cold Aspen was in December. The burst of Rocky Mountain air sparked memories of the first time I’d come to Aspen—last month—and Nick had jumped out of the SUV because he was so pissed at Cindy. She’d spent a good fifteen minutes trying to convince him to get back in before he froze to death. God I’m so glad I’m not stuck in a car with those two.

  Max grabbed our bags and then gave a ‘thumbs up,’ signaling to the pilot that we were okay. I just kept walking away from the helicopter; I didn’t want to be anywhere near it as its blades wound back up to a hectic speed. The swirling wind thrashed dust and small rocks violently around us, and the whirl filled my ears with the rhythm of the helicopter getting ready to leave. Max got my attention, and with an exaggerated motion, pointed to a man sitting in a golf cart only big enough to fit a couple of people. Max pushed against my back, prompting me to jog far enough away before we turned and watched the helicopter ascend for departure. My hair snapped against my cheeks like the tips of sharp needles jabbing unrelentingly into sunburned skin.

  The airport employee waiting on the tiny cart hurried to grab my suitcase from Max. In one smooth motion, he hurled it onto the back, then turned and grabbed Max’s duffle bag before shoving it next to my suitcase. Max helped me into the cart. I have to admit—it wasn’t the most luxurious ride, but at least I wasn’t hovering in the air in a flimsy death trap.

  I watched as Max and our cart driver shook hands and said their hellos. Their breaths, white with words, introduced warmth to the wintry air. They smiled and popped each other in the chest. I’ve never gotten why guys always hit each other after talking. It’s never made sense to me. “You’re my friend, so let me whack you in the chest—just so you know I’m done talking.” I don’t think Joanie would ever let me haul off and punch her across her shoulder.

  They pulled the doors open, and the heater raging at my feet lost the battle to the relentless, bitter air.

  “Our transportation is on the other side of the airport in the passenger loading zone. Do you think you’ll have a problem getting over there?” Max asked our cart driver.

  “Naw, I’ll curve around closest to the buildings—shouldn’t be a problem.” The guy messed with the starter and handbrake.

  The cart lurched forward. My body tightened and Max wrapped his arm around me.

  “Don’t worry, no more helicopters—promise.” His eyes were just as bright as his smile; right then I knew he had something else up his sleeve.

  The cart stopped in front of the airport entrance, and right away, a guy dressed in black from head to toe pulled open Max’s door.

  “Good morning, Mr. Goldstein,” the man said as we got out of the cart.

  “Good morning, Allen,” Max answered, shaking his hand. “This is Wilson,” he continued as I stepped out.

  “Good morning, Miss Wilson. And Happy Birthday.” His hand shot out toward me; I clutched it, expecting to give him a firm handshake, when he lifted it to his lips. I felt awkward, almost stupid, to think that here we were, right in front of the Aspen airport, and I had some guy kissing my knuckles.

  “Nice to meet you,” I answered automatically.

  “My pleasure.” His eyes locked on mine as he lowered my hand before letting it go.

  He turned to Max. “Everything has been arranged. Go right ahead and I’ll collect your bags.”

  “Thank you so much. And, Allen, Mr. Goldstein’s my father. Call me Max,” he said as he lowered my backpack off his shoulders and set it on top of hi
s duffle bag. Allen nodded.

  Max snatched my hand, and suddenly his urgency to get to the cabin didn’t seem to matter as much.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “You’ll see,” he teased me.

  “Yeah, well sometimes your ‘you’ll sees’ lead to…”

  “This one is more your speed,” he interrupted as he came from behind me and lowered his head next to mine. His breath danced around my ear. He pointed to an ultra-stretched, midnight-black limousine.

  “You rented a limo for our ride to the cabin?” I squealed.

  “Somethin’ like that,” he injected as I jumped up and down, kissing him on every ascent.

  I’d never been in a limousine. Yeah, I had seen them roll up to Wesley during vacation breaks, picking up people to take them to the airport or home. But I never thought in my wildest dreams that I was going to get the chance to actually ride in one.

  Max caught my arms. Collecting all the excitement I generated from bouncing, he looked me in the eyes. His attention focused on me as he leaned in and kissed me. My butterflies, dizzy from being jostled around in my soul, fluttered spastically.

  “Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he tickled across my lips.

  I reached up and locked my fingers behind his neck. Tangling my thumbs in his hair, I pulled him toward me for a serious ‘thank you’ kiss. With my lips warm from his, our bodies tight against one another, I could have melted into him and been perfectly content.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He slid his hands down my arms, catching my hands, and pulled me to our sweet ride.

  “Usually Allen’s the one to hold the door open, but I wanted to be the one to let you in.” He pulled the shiny chrome handle on the back door and swung it open to a whole new exciting experience for me.

  I couldn’t believe what I saw: plush, black leather seats lined the back of the car and up the driver’s side; real crystal wine glasses rested on a mahogany cabinet with cut glass front doors; deep forest-green carpet matched the satin curtains that pulled shut across the windows, accentuating the importance of elegant privacy. My heart scrambled to catch up to the mental picture I was recording in my mind. Max enveloped me with his hands around my waist.

  “Watch your head,” he said. I felt his hand rest on the top of my head before I crouched into the back of the limousine. I lost my breath when I felt the soft leather seats; I couldn’t believe I was finally going to ride in a limo.

  “Oh, Max, this is so amazing.” I slipped into the inviting back seat.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He slid in next to me.

  “I love it.”

  I heard the trunk open and our suitcases and packs being loaded into the back. I tried to see what was going on, but the trunk blocked my view. I heard the front door open and slam shut before the window separating us began to roll down.

  “Whoa, that opens?” I blurted out.

  Max laughed, amused by my unleashed raw excitement, no doubt.

  “Mr. Gold…Max, I’ve stocked the icebox with the beverages and perishables you requested.”

  “Thanks, Allen,” Max answered.

  “You’re welcome; if you need anything…”

  “I’ll use the phone on the wall,” Max interrupted. “Thanks, Allen.” Max pushed the button above his head and the black opaque window closed. I felt the limo begin to move, and suddenly, I realized I couldn’t claim never having been in a limo, ever again.

  “You surprised?” Max asked.

  “Totally surprised. I can’t believe you rented a helicopter and a limo to get to the cabin.” The muscles in my cheeks were tired from smiling.

  “Well, actually, I didn’t rent them, they’re my father’s.”

  “Get out!” I socked him in the arm. “I would never have guessed you had a helicopter and a limo.”

  “I told my dad it was your birthday. He wanted to do something for you, so he sent his driver to pick us up.”

  “That’s so sweet.” My heart swelled with happiness.

  “Well, he didn’t realize that I had other plans.”

  “The helicopter ride?”

  “Yeah, but it actually worked out better this way. Now I don’t have to drive, so I can give you all of my attention.”

  “Ooh, I like that,” I said as I pulled my leg across and hoisted myself onto his lap. His hands gripped my waist and my knees sunk into the seat around him. He sat up straight and I felt his hands drag heavily across my back; his eyes smoldered as he looked at me with such want, I tingled deep inside as the fluttering wings of my butterflies excited the spaces he owned deep within me. My hands clung to his biceps, and I could feel his muscles restrict and contract as his arms moved around my body. I loved the passion he ignited deep down in my soul, the feelings of raw desire balancing on the ache of waiting to have him entirely. His lips traced along my chin and down to the recesses of my neck, causing chills to vibrate throughout my body.

  “You cold?” he whispered. I ignored his question and shifted my hands to the zipper of his dark blue hoodie. I unzipped it while he pressed his fingers to the edges of my cashmere cardigan, tracking my collarbones to the straps of my bra. I couldn’t believe that we were about to make out in the back of a limo. Maybe it’s a cliché, but I didn’t care; I closed my eyes and felt his lips brush across my exposed shoulder. I had no idea if we were going to go all the way in the back of his father’s limo or not; it was so exhilarating. Feeling our bodies sway with the turns and bumps in the road, I tangled my hands in his hair, and adjusted his mouth to meet mine. His lips, hot and wet, mixed with mine. Our kiss was infectious. I couldn’t get enough of him—his taste, his feel, the cold air mixing with the heat of our breath—it all made me blazing hot. Every time he tried to lower his mouth to my neck, I would pull the back of his hair so I could catch him and bring him to my lips. His hands explored anywhere they could sneak a bare spot on my skin. I could feel him struggling to find the clasp of my bra.

  Max pulled away, his hair tangled and messy from my hands. His eyes told me what he wanted. I unbuttoned the top couple of buttons on my sweater and showed him my bra, clasped in the front, between my breasts. He grinned and then pressed his lips to my heart. His fingers crept up and unsnapped my bra, causing my breasts to fall loose. His warm hands caressed the round edges and pushed them together as his tongue traced my curves. He closed his steaming mouth and gently sucked, lapping his tongue against my hard nipple. I gasped, losing my breath, as it caused a yearning to ripple all the way down between my legs. My hips automatically rotated against his lap. I felt the pressure build in his pants as I compressed against him.

  He twisted and pushed me down on the seat. My hair pulled and locked between my shoulders and the leather. His fingers toiled with the button on my pants and our arms entwined as we both feverishly unsnapped and pulled open each other’s pants. His fingers slid down between my panties and the waist of my jeans. Our eyes met and I lifted my hips off the seat for him. He clutched his bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled my pants down to across my thighs, his gaze smoldering before he dropped his head and pressed his fiery, damp lips to my stomach. His touch sent familiar chills through my core. A feeling so comfortable, I welcomed it every moment we were alone.

  I dragged my hands up his back, carrying the edge of his hoodie and t-shirt; I pulled them off of his body. Now that’s much better. His muscular, well-built back and strong, thick shoulders were completely naked so I could feel and watch his tendons and muscles flex and rotate as he moved and swayed against me. He was insatiable as he worked his way down my body. His arms flexed as he grabbed both sides of my jeans, which were wedged against my mid-thighs, and pulled them down further.

  I felt his breath permeate the front panel of my panties. God, I wanted him to taste me, but he kept kissing everywhere but there. He was such a tease, making sure to caress the tip of his nose down to the curve of his chin against me. I twisted my finge
rs in his thick, black, shiny hair. I wanted to feel the sharp tips poke and tickle against my inner thighs, something that made me comfortably at home with him. He relentlessly taunted me, his hands cradling my hips as he deliciously massaged the contour of his lips and chin against me, forcing me to the edge of aching ecstasy.

  I snatched the edges of my panties and pulled them down. He looked up at me across my heaving stomach, his eyes wickedly sultry. There was no room for concerns or theories; I knew the minute he lowered his mouth against me and plunged his tongue into the space between my legs I was going to explode. He slid one of his hands up my stomach and grasped my breast. His fingers pulled and delicately stroked my nipple. Everything connected and I wanted him. My hips swayed and thrust rhythmically; instinctually I forced my head against the seat, arching my back in anticipation. Slowly he lowered his mouth to me and the damp heat from his tongue sky-rocketed me into a primal need to orgasm. His head nodded and swayed faster as I clutched at the back of his head and pushed him down harder against me. His visceral growl caused me to burst into a thousand pieces. Millions of sparks crashed and exploded in my body as I lost my breath, moaning in complete euphoria.

  My heart pounded, rapid and loud in my ears. My breath faltered and I had lost any sense of where we were. I only knew I’d reached the familiar place he’s taken me before. It was only after the phone on the console began to ring that I came to realize the limo had come to a stop.

  Max stretched across me and picked up the phone, lying against me. I could feel his unfinished business hard against my thigh and his words vibrate through his body. “Hi, Allen…okay…sounds good, we will be right out. Go ahead and unload our bags. Thanks. Bye.” He hung up the receiver and snuck a kiss. His fingers dropped to my buttons ruefully, fastening them back up.

  I pushed my hands down to the front of his pants. “We’ll have to continue this later.”