A Mile High

by Bethany-Kris

  “I’d like you naked all over me. Skin on skin,” he admitted softly, looking disappointed. “But we know that isn’t safe.”

  Under his urging, I straddled his spread legs, feet bracing to either side of the cushiony seats, heels digging into the fabric, and hovering just above his erect cock. Sal used two fingers to sweep the fabric of my thong to the side, waiting. I only hesitated for a moment, looking down, then to the side where the curtain still hung closed, unbothered, and giving us the semblance of privacy. I could hear the voices of the people in coach, someone laughing hysterically before being hushed, the light humming of the televisions all playing the same movie, and a cough from somewhere in front of us.

  Dangerous.

  Unbidden.

  God, I was terrified and so fucking hot.

  Crazed.

  Sal positioned his cock at my entrance, rubbing the swollen head through my folds, sending jolting shocks through my body. “Ready?” he whispered, grinning with an eyebrow lifted and a hand gripping tight to my thigh, keeping me wide and open. The burn in my legs felt the best it ever had. I was sure I wouldn’t walk right for a week after this. With a single nod, I lowered down painfully slowly on his member. Air cut through clenched teeth. “Holy sweet mother of God.”

  Flames licked my nerve endings. His cock filling my tight channel made me nearly delirious with a sensation I hadn’t ever felt before. Sex had never burned me better. No one had filled me quite as well. I could feel the resistance in my walls, muscles that flexed in an attempt to take in his large girth. Shuddering with need, skin tingling from top to bottom, I only made it halfway down his length before rising up and lowering down once more. My body accepted him a little further, sucking him deeper into my center as that hand on my thigh gripped harder and I watched as his eyes rolled back, head hitting the seat with a nearly silent thud.

  “You’re the tightest damned thing I’ve ever felt,” he muttered, teeth clenched. “Silk on my cock, baby.”

  Rolls of pleasure rocked my body as ecstasy exploded through my senses like a wrecking ball. Sal grabbed my other thigh and widened my legs further, opening me up and allowing me to become fully seated down on his length. Impaled, I felt whole, burned, and lost. My mouth opened on its own accord, head falling back as a moan threatened to make its way out. One I knew would echo. One I knew would be heard. One I couldn’t stop. I didn’t notice the sheer scarf I had grabbed before leaving my house earlier being pulled from my neck until Sal had it wrapped around my mouth, gagging me. Pulled firm, he twisted the flimsy fabric in his hands, tugging my hair into his tight grip as well. With my neck taut, exposed, I finally moaned into the fabric, the sound muffled and nearly silenced.

  “Ride me,” he ordered. “Fuck me. I want to watch my dick sink into that pretty pussy of yours, Liv. Not a soul is going to hear you, girl, so fuck me good. You should see yourself right now—perfection, so damned beautiful. I bet you’ve never looked so good, have you?”

  Chapter Nine

  Trusting him, hoping no one would hear the sounds of his cock filling me, sinking further into my channel as I bucked against his hold, I did what he asked. My body shook, muscles straining as I held my weight up and rocked my body into his, taking his cock over and over into my pulsing center.

  Despite how slick I was with arousal, his cock still stretched me thoroughly, the burning sensation bordering on pain-filled pleasure that made me ache in a whole new way. I wanted to ask for his fingers to grab harder, to make me ache and hurt a little more, but I didn’t have to. Sal’s cleanly cut fingernails bit into my skin, my hands grabbing on to his shoulders to steady my trembling form as I rode a slow rhythm that kept us quiet enough, but still kept my senses bright, aware, and bordering on an edge I knew wouldn’t take too long to fall over.

  Through the thin latex covering his cock, I could still feel every shudder and twitch of his shaft inside my sensitive walls. The soft moan he released was caught against my cheek, a rock-hard chest pushing against tender, sensitive breasts.

  Penetrating flashes fueled my movements, the jarring pleasure rocking my frame harder into his as I rode him rougher, faster, wanting him so much deeper than he already was. Moans, gasps, and whimpers were swallowed by the makeshift gag in my mouth. I bit around the fabric, looking down at the man whose expression was darkened in his need, watching his cock impale my pussy again and again.

  My arousal had dampened his boxers, the fluid scenting up to my senses and making me shudder and groan into the gag. Nothing smelled better than sex—pure, lust-fueled need that soaked and covered. Nothing.

  My walls tightened, back arching as I shifted just enough to see the glistening shaft penetrate my core again, slipping so easily between silken, wet folds, driving hard into my heated sex that clamped down and quivered with every rock of my frame. I could feel the tremble in his hand, the shake in his arms, and the closeness in his eyes as he bit down hard on his lip.

  “Almost there,” Sal grunted, fingers digging roughly into my thigh, still keeping my leg spread wide open. “Fucking you is a dream, girl.”

  Flames licked up my skin, like ice-cold water being poured from head to toe while a blistering heat saturated my insides. The most intense orgasm I’d ever felt ravaged all of my nerve endings from start to finish, a scream I couldn’t have held back if I tried muffled into the gag. Still, my throat ached from tensing so hard. Slickened beads of sweat gathering between my breasts, neck, and the small of my back had clothing sticking to my skin.

  Thoroughly fucked and blissfully happy, from top to end I’d never felt more alive.

  I fucking burned through the intense waves of ecstasy that washed through my blown-over senses. Seared, scorched, and turned like wisps of ash to the winds. A man I’d never met before in my life and wouldn’t ever meet again made me feel like that. I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t even try to understand it.

  Through the jerky movements of my orgasm, I heard Sal’s deep, quiet guttural groan, hand on my thigh holding my body down as he released his seed into the latex covering his cock. I stilled in his grasp, feeling the aftershocks of his finish jolt his member inside my vise-tight walls.

  Muscles relaxed, trembling soothed, and the fabric in my mouth was pulled away as he whispered, “Welcome to the mile-high club.”

  That brief period after my orgasm, when the bliss had faded and the sensations left, I was quick to climb off his lap. Sal looked hurt, almost offended by my actions. For the first time, I realized what I had done. Shame pulsed a horrid, terrible feeling through my middle.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, fixing my thong and skirt. “I just…I just…”

  “Fucked on a plane with a stranger?” he asked quietly.

  I stared at him, gaping. “Yes!”

  Sal shrugged. “So?”

  “So? So! So, I’m a—”

  Sal looked shocked, anger filling his handsome face. He moved so fast I wasn’t sure he had until I felt his hand covering my mouth. “Don’t you say that, Liv. I don’t ever want to hear those words out of your mouth.”

  “That’s exactly it, you’re never going to see me again,” I whispered into his palm, voice tense and hushed. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

  Fixing himself quickly, Sal was covered, zipped, and buttoned up in a flash. “Listen, that doesn’t matter. What I saw right then, that wasn’t some whore. That was beauty, so fucking beautiful. Like life, girl—living, breathing, in the flesh life. There wasn’t a thing wrong with that right there.”

  I waved at the curtain. “Those people?”

  “Would have died if they had seen you like that, probably. But, they would have seen your beauty, too. I’d give my life to see you like that again.”

  Air caught in my throat. His statement was a blunt sort of honesty that hit me to the core. Instead of shrugging it off and telling me not to worry about it, he made my lungs ache and heart pound. What kind of man was he?

  “Come here,” he demanded gently, arms out
and waiting. In the warmth of his embrace, my lips found his for the first time. Languid in nature, the kiss began a searing burn from my inside, out, all over again. Slowly, he took his time adoring, exploring, and tasting my mouth, touching down to my lips in small pecks as he pulled away. “Don’t feel guilty, huh? I sure don’t.” Waving at the screen playing a near-silent movie, Sal added, “Let’s watch this, talk for a while, and then we’ll open the curtain back up, okay? No one is going to know a thing, so don’t worry about it.”

  Deciding to trust him, I finally sat back down in my seat. Sal excused himself quickly after, going to dispose of the condom and clean off, likely. But, it wasn’t long before he was back, shooting me a wink and once again confirming that the attendant had been much too busy to notice anything going on in our cubby.

  I couldn’t ignore the sticky wetness between my thighs, or the scent of arousal that almost tasted heavy on the back of my tongue in the air surrounding us. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t know he was watching me from the corner of his eye, quiet, silent, and contemplative. Gaze traveling the length of my legs as he wet his lips with his tongue before turning back to the television. There was no possible way I could act like he wasn’t having an effect on me from three feet away just sitting there…doing absolutely nothing but looking at me.

  “What do you do for a living?” I asked, needing to get a conversation flowing to stop me from crawling back over the space between our seats.

  Sal stretched his arms over his head, legs relaxing out, and ankles hooking together. “I own a couple of businesses. They do me well enough, but I also do odd jobs here and there to keep myself busy in between. I can’t stand the feeling of my hands having nothing to do.” Laughing, I agreed, knowing exactly how he felt. Sal’s eyes glittered with something I didn’t recognize. “And you, Liv?”

  I made a dismissive sound. “Web designer, actually—freelance, mostly. Sometimes, depending on the customer and the amount they’re willing to pay, I’ll manage a few sites as well throughout the year to make up for ends that won’t meet until the customer can handle taking care of it themselves.” Like Sylvia, but she ended up becoming a whole other problem instead. “But, I’m doing all right.”

  “Really?” Leaning forward in his seat, Sal contemplated my job. “I would have thought something in the nature of teaching…or maybe a nurse. Web designer, huh? That sounds…artistic.”

  I shrugged. “It can be. It’s a lot more than just putting together pretty colors that match and adding a few pictures.”

  Sal appeared to take my comment seriously. “I don’t doubt it, Liv.” Playful brown eyes lifted to meet mine. “And I bet you don’t regret it.”

  I didn’t.

  And I wasn’t talking about my profession, either.

  Chapter Ten

  The flight hadn’t been all that long, and the plane landed without much fuss. Of course, instead of being caught up in the passengers and attendants like I usually would be on any other flight, I was entranced and trapped by the tanned, handsome not-quite-a-stranger across the row from me.

  I learned that he was thirty-one, unmarried, and without children. And given the fact that most of his friends had turned up divorced from their spouses before they’d even reached their tenth anniversaries, Sal was in no mood to settle down and marry anytime soon. He had time, he said. He wanted to get out, have fun while he could, and when he met the right one, he would know. He wasn’t going to get into a relationship he wasn’t sure would work, but one he would end up having to work too hard to keep, regardless of the end outcome. So he would know, he was sure, and for some odd reason, I couldn’t find a way to doubt him.

  Sal kept me engaged, more so than I thought he could…or would. He spoke when I turned quiet, still watching me from the corners of his eyes with a look that made my skin tingle because I knew…knew what he could do and how he could do it with me. The very thought made me ache, but neither one of us made the move to bridge the gap between us on the flight again. If he had, I wasn’t one hundred percent positive I would have had the ability to say no.

  His hand found its way across our seats more than once to touch lightly on the bare flesh of my knee, rising a little under my skirt to grasp tightly with long fingers that made my breath catch all over again.

  He was sweet, smart, and funny—more so than I had first realized, even.

  Without even intending or knowing he was doing it, Sal kept me calm and happy throughout the flight. He never once made me feel awkward over what happened, or even that we were truly just strangers to one another. Sal was familiar to me, his deep but quiet voice keeping me unfocused from the sharp jolts of the plane when it landed on the runway, an action that would usually send me halfway to a surefire panic attack. This strong man, with his pretty eyes and handsome face, seemed to me like I had known him my whole life…without ever having actually known him.

  And it sucked. Sucked that we were a few minutes away from separating, that I didn’t have the guts to ask him who he was, or where I could find him if I ever wanted to seek him out again. Sucked that I was sure he probably didn’t want me to, either.

  In fact, Sal had kept me so preoccupied that I hadn’t even remembered to open the curtain back up to expose our private little world back to the rest of the plane until the flight attendant made her way down the aisle and poked her head inside, informing us both that it was time to prepare for landing.

  Buckle up, she asked.

  Put the duffle bag back up into the overhead, she instructed.

  Close the curtain, she informed.

  And she was glad I was looking better as her coworker was still terribly sick in the front bathroom.

  I had to turn away when she said that, a bright pink blush coloring my cheeks as I shot Sal a look that I hoped he understood was intended for him to kill me before I died of embarrassment.

  No one knew, though. No one seemed like they knew a damned thing. When the plane landed, bussed to the gate, and people stood to ready their belongings and leave, not one person caught my eye who acted as if they knew. I was sure my insides would be churning, worry eating an anxious, mortified path when I had to walk past these strangers who would smell my sex, see the way my lips were pinked a little more than usual from my still-raging desire.

  But, no. Nothing.

  Sal pulled my small carry-on bag out of the overhead, handing it to me with a smile as coach passengers made their way down the plane. First-class had already departed, but we took our time, noticing the pilots and attendant were still up front, unbothered or unconcerned by our lack of willingness to join the other passengers of the flight right then.

  “You have a sweater?” Sal asked, looking concerned.

  I cringed, seeing the slight drizzle of rain pattering the porthole windows. “No, Barbados was my originally intended destination, remember? Not exactly sweater-worthy weather, I suppose.”

  He chuckled deeply. Bending down, he unzipped his bag and produced for me a black drawstring hoodie with white, block lettering covering most of the front. “Here,” he offered, holding the article out. I looked at it, confused and unsure. “Take it.”

  I did, then, still unsure of how I should feel about his constant kindness and concern. “Thank you,” I murmured softly.

  “It’s not a problem.”

  I wanted to ask his last name, to see if he had an address close to the place where I was staying, or if maybe he’d be coming to Maine again anytime soon. Instead, I knew the reality of our situation. Strangers, meeting under random circumstance. Not fate, despite his easy nature that was so quick to match my high-strung personality. Not destiny stepping in to show me a person I had been overlooking all this time. No, none of that. It was a one-time thing, a hookup in an odd place with a fantastic memory to keep.

  The small ache on the back of my thigh told me I’d remember it for years.

  Slipping the hoodie up over my frame and pulling my arms through the sleeves, I held the side of the fab
ric to my face, hiding my smile and smelling his spiced scent. “It was…good meeting you, Sal,” I said quietly, slinging my purse over my shoulder and grabbing the handle to my carry-on. “Maybe…” No, I couldn’t do it. I still couldn’t bring myself to ask him for what I wanted. “Never mind,” I added quickly.

  He nodded, the corner of his lip twitching up into a quirky grin. “And you, too, Liv.” With the duffle bag clenched tight in his fist, Sal said, “And uh…hey, try to get around the island, would you? Meet some people, try to figure out the odd words, and enjoy the food.”

  “The food?” My nose scrunched up. “I’ve heard you Newfoundlanders have an odd taste in culinary choices, besides the mostly fish-for-meat diet.”

  Sal laughed deeply, the sound stunning my body with sparks of want, just from where he stood. I couldn’t understand my reaction to this man—not physically, or emotionally. “Yeah, you could say that. The general rule is to boil everything.”

  I made another face, disgust showing. “Boil everything?”

  “That’s what I said, girl. Boil it,” he repeated, winking. “Boil it until everything is off, the flavor is gone, and it probably tastes like rubber. Then, you add some kind of sauce and beans, and there you go. Fit for kings.”

  Grinning, I asked, “But what if a queen doesn’t want something boiled?”

  Sal’s eyes widened in amusement, “Then I guess she should have gone to Barbados.”

  Chapter Eleven

  GPS was the devil, hell-bent on destroying my life. It just was.

  The cute, silver Mazda my brother had rented for me to pick up at the airport was a fantastic little car, with an easy pedal and good fuel economy. But, the GPS with the annoyingly grating voice that had managed to get me lost at least five fucking times since getting off the main highway was working my last nerve.