Valentines Heat IV

by Anne Lange, Nikki Dee Houston, Arianna Archer

  The old man spun around at the sound of her cry.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” He peered down at her, the beam from his reading lamp illuminating her face. Luckily, the rest of her was in darkness.

  James slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her up. She patted down her skirt and drew her knees together.

  “Sure. I’m…fine.” The air had been squeezed out of her and she sounded breathless.

  The old man seemed satisfied and turned to face the front again. His wife, now also awake, spoke to him and she too raised the back of her seat while they shared a loudly whispered argument, the old lady berating him for being so clumsy.

  Frankie glanced up at James, his mouth twitching in mirth. She could hold her laughter back no longer, letting it out silently, her eyes stinging with laughter tears. Another first, she thought. There’s no way in hell I’m ever going to forget this flight.

  She picked up her coffee and took a sip. It was lukewarm and tasted awful. James pressed the button and Troy emerged from the small galley across the aisle from them.

  “Can you please take our cups now? We’d like to, er, get some shut-eye.”

  “Certainly, sir.” Troy did as he asked. James leaned over and put her tray table up, and then his own.

  He took her hand. “Now, where were we?” His voice was velvety smooth, no trace of his earlier anxiety about flying evident. For a moment she wondered if that had also been a ruse, an act to gain sympathy. Or maybe it was part of his repertoire of ways to get a free upgrade.

  She shrugged. Right now she didn’t really care. In another hour or so she would never see James Jardine again. Once they hit Seattle, James would go off to get married, and she would be seduced by Tom, over and over, until she was exhausted.

  Her pussy, which had lost all its urge in the debacle of being jammed in between the seats with her knees in the air and her pussy staring up to heaven, suddenly shivered and came to life again.

  The old couple in front went quiet. The man reached up and turned off his reading light. Frankie waited for the seat back to once again invade her space, but it remained upright. His wife handed the old man a pillow and he positioned it behind his head. Soon, soft snores told them that he was asleep.

  Frankie turned to James. His gaze was already on her and for a moment she wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he’s had enough of fingering me. Maybe he just wants to sleep now. Their gaze held, and then James leaned down to whisper in her ear.

  “Do you love, what’s his name, your boyfriend?”

  His question took her by surprise. She thought about it for a moment or two. “I guess so. I don’t really know.”

  James’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t know?”

  She suddenly felt defensive. “What’s wrong with that? Tom and I have been together—and kind of not together—for years. We like it that way.”

  “Perhaps I should re-phrase that. Are you and Tom friends?”

  “Yes.” She sat up straighter in her seat. “Most definitely. We’re great friends actually.”

  James shifted and placed his head on the headrest behind him, looking up at the ceiling. “Mmm. You know, I sometimes think friendship is more important than love.”

  He looked and sounded so different from the brash, arrogant, and rude man who had first spoken to her. Not far beneath the surface of his skin, she surmised, there was a man not as sure of himself as he would like.

  “Your wife-to-be. Is she your best friend? Do you love her?”

  He raised his head and studied her. When he spoke, she could hardly hear him.

  “No on both counts.”

  “Then why on earth are you…marrying her?”

  He pursed his lips, and then glanced away.

  “Because her daddy’s rich. He’s going to give me a job in his mining company. When he dies, my girlfriend will inherit half his fortune. There’s only her and a brother.” He turned to face her. “What kind of a mercenary asshole am I?” His laugh was without humor. “I know you’re asking yourself that question. Well, I’ll tell you. I’m the sort of bastard that lies to get what I want. She loves me. She thinks I’m the charming, loving, honest, hardworking man that I’ve led her to believe I am. But I’m a gold digger of the worst kind.”

  Frankie sat back in her seat. Her head spun and she could think of no words to say.

  Part of her filled with loathing for this man who so coldly and completely without conscience cheated on an innocent girl. Another part of her flooded with guilt. Not for the first time, she wondered if the fact Tom had lots of money—which was definitely one of the things that attracted him to her—was just as bad as what James was doing.

  “Are you shocked?” His face was close to hers again.

  “Well, yes. I guess I am. But I’m not in a position to judge you.”

  “Does Tom know you have sex with random strangers on planes?”

  “Yes. Well, not on planes exactly.” She chuckled quietly. “This is a first, actually. But Tom and I have a, er, an understanding. Heck, we live on opposite sides of the country.”

  “So, there’s no…commitment?”

  She thought about it. Her relationship with Tom was complicated—yet very uncomplicated. They spoke often on the phone and online. They saw each other every few months for a weekend of unbridled, passionate, crazy, exhausting sex. But they lived nearly three thousand miles apart. When they were together, they laughed, talked…loved. But her career as a junior partner in a big New York advertising firm was just taking off. She didn’t know exactly what it was Tom did for a living, but it was with a large copper mine company in Alaska. Whenever he had a few days in Seattle, he’d invite her over. It was as simple as that.

  “No. No commitment.” Why did she feel disappointed at her answer? She shook her head. Surely she didn’t have stronger feelings for Tom than she admitted. Surely she didn’t love him.

  “Frankie, I’m in no position to judge either, but that answer just doesn’t ring true.” He placed his hand on hers, but she quickly brushed it away.

  “No. You’re in no position to point the finger.” She hadn’t meant it to come out quite so loud and the old man in front grunted and shifted in his seat.

  She was more annoyed with herself than with James. It peeved her that this two-timing, cheating, immoral, and dishonest person was right. She and Tom had never really discussed their open relationship. It was enough for them to be together when they could, and those rare times were full of love. It didn’t matter what they did with other people, because when they were together there was total commitment. I suppose that’s love, she thought.

  She looked over at James. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

  He nodded briefly. “No problem.”

  “You’re not upset?”

  “Nope.” He gently took her hand in his again. This time she didn’t pull back. “In fact, I rather like the fact you aren’t as cold and calculating as you make out.”

  She thought about this for a second. Maybe she wasn’t.

  “What about you? Are you the asshole you seem to be?”

  He grimaced. “Unfortunately, I am.” He shifted in his seat. “If it’s any consolation, I do feel a bit guilty sometimes about…my wife-to-be. She is a really lovely girl.”

  “Then what’s to stop you actually having…feelings…for her. Real feelings I mean. Like, love…and stuff.”

  He glanced out the window into the darkness. His face, reflected in the window glass, showed signs of discomfort.

  “Because, if I did fall in love with her, I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. She’d find out I was only drawn to her because of her future inheritance. She would be heartbroken. It would destroy her.”

  “Money is that important to you?”

  He turned to her, his gaze searching her face. “Yes.” He glanced away. “Look, it’s not just the money. It’s success. A career. It’s status. I…I’ve got nothing right now. Damn it, I don’t even have a proper jo
b.”

  “So how do you support yourself?”

  He pursed his lips before replying. “I’m an escort. Not a gigolo, although most times the women I accompany to business parties, conferences, balls and so on offer it on a platter. I am a good-looking, well-mannered male companion for the high achieving women in some of the biggest multinational corporations in the world.”

  “And your…what’s her name, by the way? She doesn’t know this?”

  “Anna. Her name is Anna. No, she thinks I’m in banking.”

  Frankie reclined her seat, although it wouldn’t go back very far because of the bulkhead behind her. “She’ll find out, you know.” Suddenly she felt tired. “They always do. Much better for you to be up front with her. If she loves you as much as you think she does, she’ll forgive you for telling her that banking bullshit.”

  His warm hand rested on her leg, just below the hem of her short skirt, and then slowly moved up toward her inner thigh. The unfinished business of before sprang to life in her loins. The silly old man in front had stolen her orgasm when he suddenly lifted the back of his chair. Her pussy tingled, and then vaulted with excitement, and moisture pooled.

  She opened her legs and James rolled onto his side to face her. His hand caressed the soft skin on the inside of her thighs, making circles with his fingers on the sensitive area. He reached over with his other hand and slid it inside her blouse. He delved inside her bra and pinched her nipple between two fingers. Her body reacted as though she’d stuck her finger in an electric light socket. Zings of want, of desire, cascaded through her body; the sensation made her toes curl and her fingers twitch.

  Slowly, very deliberately, the fingers on his other hand reached her pussy. She wore no underwear now, having discarded her sodden panties earlier in the flight. He ran a finger around the lips of her vulva, and then rubbed the nub of her clitoris, massaging it until it doubled in size. Then he traced a finger from her clit down her slit, past the opening to her vagina, until he reached her perineum. Her body convulsed in tiny jerking movements as he fondled the sensitive, nerve-infused part. When he slid a finger around to her anus and inserted it, she had to bite her lip to stop from calling out, the exquisite sensation making her delirious with desire.

  Pain shot through her nipple as he pinched the little rosebud hard between his thumb and forefinger. The discomfort of the sting enhanced the unspeakably delicious sensation in her anus, and ripples of craving spread up through her vagina, causing it to convulse. Her breath came in short pants as she struggled to hold onto the sensations, not wanting them to end, yet longing for the climax that would send her beyond happiness.

  His finger probed, explored, and circled inside her while another finger, maybe his thumb, she thought idly, entered her sopping wet vagina. The stinging hurt inflicted on her nipple increased until she cried out as softly as she could. It came out sounding like a muffled sneeze. She held her breath to see if she’d woken the couple in front. All quiet.

  James increased the motion of his fingers and the tidal wave of ripples turned into a massive, earth-shattering tsunami that washed over her as she exploded from within, her orgasm coming with such force that she nearly fell off her seat again. She compressed her eyes shut, her jaw clenched rigid, and her hands gripped the arm of the chair as the climax catapulted her into another realm where reality of place and time didn’t exist.

  It seemed like forever before the nerves in her pussy relaxed into small, jerky little throbs that still felt delicious. She opened her eyes to see James’s face close to hers, his skin shiny with sweat, and his eyes tightly closed. Across his shoulder, she got the shock of her life to see Troy, the senior of the two flight attendants, standing in the aisle next to her and leaning on the back of the chair in front. His trouser zip was undone and in his hand was the biggest cock she’d ever seen, red and ready to explode as he pumped it rapidly with one hand while he braced himself with the other. His eyes were on her pussy, his stare glassy, his face flushed and sweaty.

  She reached over and placed her hand on his as he drove it up and down his shaft. He took his hand away, letting her grip him. With the expertise of someone who is well-practiced, she brought Troy to the edge of bliss, massaging his erection until she could feel him about to come. She lifted her head, leaned forward, and took his cock in her mouth seconds before he exploded. She sensed his body move and opened her eyes to see him reeling, his legs all wobbly.

  She slid her lips off him and he regained his balance, and then disappeared silently into the galley across from her. She turned to look at James, his eyes open now and his gaze burning into hers as a smile slowly lifted the corners of his mouth.

  “Like I said earlier,” he said, his voice breathy. “You are good. Very good.”

  James slowly shifted and rolled into normal sitting position. Frankie pulled down her skirt and reached up to smooth her hair. A movement from across the aisle made her turn just as Troy emerged from the galley with a silver tray, another bottle of Veuve Clicquot in a silver wine bucket, and three glasses. He reached over and put Frankie’s tray table down, then rested the tray on it.

  Without a word, Troy poured three glasses of the expensive golden bubbles, handed one to her, one to James, and picked one up for himself.

  “To the best passenger I’ve ever encountered on a flight.” Troy held his glass up to Frankie.

  James touched his glass to Troy’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

  There was nothing for it but for her to join in the happy trio. “You’re both most welcome.” She clinked glasses with both men, then took a good swallow of the bubbles, savoring the sharp little explosions on her tongue.

  Troy drained his glass in one gulp, and then disappeared, once more leaving her and James alone. They sat in silence for several minutes. Her heart was still beating slightly faster than normal, and every so often random little convulsions still caused spasms in her vagina, like tiny reminders of the glorious cataclysmic event of ten minutes ago.

  “That’s a happy little smirk on your face.” James’s voice was low.

  She turned to him and smiled. “It wasn’t a smirk. Was it?”

  “Well, you tell me. Sure looked like one from where I’m sitting.” He smiled as well, the expression lighting up his face and making his eyes twinkle.

  “Yeah. I suppose it was.” She took another sip of champagne. “But I think I have every right to smirk, don’t you?”

  James let out a deep, satisfied, sigh. “Frankie, you have more than every right.” He rubbed his groin. “Thank goodness I have a change of clothes in my bag. You’ve made me come in my trousers. I’m soaking.”

  “What a waste. You should have saved it for when this plane starts its descent to Seattle.”

  He raised one eyebrow. “Seriously? You want more?”

  She laughed softly. “James, I always want more. But I think we’ve just about run out of time. People are stirring.” Just then, the cabin lights came on and the captain’s voice came over the sound system.

  “Good evening, folks. We are just starting our descent into Sea-Tac. The weather in Seattle tonight is chilly. Light snow is falling and it’s twenty degrees. So I hope you all find some inventive ways to keep warm.”

  Other passengers stood and stretched, then headed for the bathrooms. Frankie grabbed her bag and made her way to the nearest one, narrowly avoiding having to line up as people who had been dozing roused.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror. Lord, she looked a mess. Her makeup was non-existent, her hair was sticking up like a bird’s nest, and she had a look of smug satisfaction in her eyes.

  “I better get rid of that before Tom sees me, or he’ll know what I’ve been up to.”

  She took her blouse and skirt off and quickly put on jeans and a T-shirt, pulling a soft hoodie sweater over her head. She grabbed a toothbrush out of her bag and cleaned her teeth, re-applied her makeup, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail which she rolled loosely and gripped up with a lar
ge clip. She cast a critical look at herself in the mirror. Satisfied with what she saw, she stuffed her belongings into the bag and went back out to her seat.

  When she got there, James was wearing jeans as well, and a navy blue polo shirt that made him look younger. With his suit and business shirt removed, he appeared less arrogant. His face seemed freshly scrubbed, and he looked very attractive.

  “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” James was the first to speak. “Will, er, Tom be there to meet you?”

  “He usually is.”

  James turned and peered out the window into the black night.

  “What about you? Will Anna be at the arrivals lounge to meet you?”

  “Mm. Most likely.” He turned and he caught her gaze with his. “Yes, she will be. She always meets me.”

  Again, the awkward silence was palpable.

  James was the first to break it. “Here, take a look. You can see the lights of some towns down there. Won’t be long now until we touch down.”

  She leaned across him and peered out. It looked like a fairyland. Tiny twinkling yellow lights flickered in the darkness.

  The flight attendants herded passengers into their seats, re-stowed hand luggage and snapped shut the overhead lockers. All the cabin lights were on now. When the seatbelt sign came on, people began talking and getting ready to land.

  The voice of the captain came through the speakers overhead. “Please fasten your seatbelts. Cabin crew, prepare for landing.”

  In a few minutes, the plane touched down and she felt the seatbelt cut in as the force of the plane braking hard pulled her forward.

  “Frankie?”

  She turned to James.

  “I, er, I just wanted to say that…” He looked away.

  She placed her hand on his knee. “It was great to meet you too, James.”

  He covered her hand with his and then turned, his gaze once again meeting hers. He seemed unable to find any suitable words to say.

  Frankie cleared her throat. “I hope your wedding—and your marriage—is a wonderful success.”