Summer Fire
Page 89
I pushed those thoughts away because, hey, I didn’t usually approach sex that way. Especially sex with a stranger. Except she didn’t feel like a stranger. She felt like someone I’d always known, even though we had just met.
Damn, maybe I was still suffering from oxygen deprivation after that high altitude dive.
Emily nestled against my chest as our hands explored each other beneath the blanket. She was wearing shorts, which meant I could caress the bare skin of her legs and hear her sigh as I stroked upward toward her mound. It didn’t take much to nudge her legs apart. As my fingers cruised along her inner thighs, she gasped into my mouth, but it was a gasp of encouragement, not a signal to stop.
I loosened the waistband of her shorts and slipped my hand inside. She let me do it. Her panties were damp. I rubbed her through the panel running between her legs, wishing I could strip her naked and see her sweet pussy, swelling and readying itself for my aching dick. Then I pushed the damn panties aside.
“You’re so hot,” I breathed into her ear. “Melt for me, babe.” I took her earlobe between my teeth and tugged, then swiped my tongue around the shell. She quivered. I thrummed my fingers between her lower lips and parted them. “I want to be kissing you down there. I want you to come on my tongue.”
Her fingers dug into my shoulders and pulled me harder against her. I slid my finger deep into her moist heat. I kept on kissing her lips while I finger-fucked her with a steadily increasing rhythm. “Spread your legs a little,” I ordered. I wanted more access. Damn, I wanted her laid out under me on a bed.
She obeyed. I loved the way she did what I told her to do. She was my kind of girl.
I could feel her winding up as her breathing increased and her heartbeat fluttered against my chest.
“Oh my god, Harry,” she breathed, her hips moving with me now. My finger slid in and out while her pussy muscles tightened around me.
“That’s it, babe. Come for me. Come for me right now.”
She arched up, driving me deeper. As her breath hitched, I managed to get my thumb on her clit and rub. Her entire body convulsed. She would have cried out if my mouth hadn’t been pressing down firmly on hers, capturing and muting her sounds. She melted all over me and I loved it. She throbbed and pulsed around my fingers for a long, long time.
I was hard as stone and desperate to get off, too, but I could hear some sounds in the cabin as someone moved up the aisle. I didn’t want to push my luck with two hundred passengers in close proximity to our little love nest. I’d gotten in trouble for that sort of thing before.
She must have sensed my tension because I felt her hand slip down below my waist and close over my cock. My turn to moan. She pumped me firmly, up and down. But things were getting active in the galley and the aisle. “Damn, they’re starting another drink service. We’d better not. If you keep doing that, I’ll expose myself and they’ll kick us off the plane. It’s a long way to fall.”
She giggled, and in a moment I was laughing, too.
“Hold that thought until after the drink cart passes us. I don’t want you to feel deprived.”
“No way I could feel deprived with you so sweet and open to me,’ I assured her.
“I’ve love to return the favor. What do you suppose the flight attendants would think if I went down on my knees between the seats? If we were in coach, I don’t think it would work, but here in first class, we’ve got more leg room.”
Well, that almost made me spurt, just thinking about it. No way I was letting her do that, though. Much too embarrassing for her if we got caught. She had a twinkle in her eye, anyway, that told me she wasn’t actually going to try it. In fact, she had a light, smiley way about her that was very appealing.
I liked this girl, dammit! I hoped this wasn’t going to be one of those things where you really connect with your seatmate during a long flight and then get off the plane and never see them again.
Chapter Nine
Charley
When the drink service started in earnest, I got up and headed for the bathroom. Fortunately, there wasn’t a line. Once inside, I splashed water on my hot cheeks and tried to neaten my hair.
I was embarrassed.
Ashamed.
Had I really just had mile-high sex in the first class section of an airplane with my former high school teacher?
Oh my God! I was usually cautious, not reckless. Sensible, not foolish.
I wasn’t a prude, but I wasn’t a wild sex fiend, either. Some of my friends did the crazy, but I was always the one who listened to their adventures in wide-eyed astonishment. Now I was behaving like a wanton sex-crazed wild woman.
I’d liked it, though.
What must he think of me? I mean, he had seemed as if he thought the whole thing was fine. Lots of fun. Reason for laughter. And he’d cuddled me afterwards. He was really sweet. Well, maybe not sweet, precisely, since he had been pretty insistent once we got going. Giving me commands and all.
Heat washed through me again. Had my friend Nola been right about him all those years ago? Was he one of those dominant types who liked to control sex? If so, maybe that was what I wanted, too, because yowza, that had been one amazing orgasm.
Okay, I had to get it together and return to my seat. Other people might want to use the restroom, and who wants to lurk in an airplane bathroom for longer than one has to, anyway?
I didn’t need to be embarrassed to face him, did I? I mean, it wasn’t as if I’d done it all alone.
I made one last half-hearted attempt to pull my hair back into its usual knot. But it wouldn’t stay. My hair was determined to be wild and free. And so, it seemed, was my libido.
Harry grinned when I walked back to my seat. Man, he was looking good. He rose and moved into the aisle so I could get past him. Again I thought, he’s got to be the hottest dude I’ve ever fooled around with. All that lean, hard muscle. Those merry blue eyes. That heart-grinding smile.
“You left your hair down. I’m glad.”
“It wouldn’t behave.”
“Smart hair. It’s very flattering to you, loose on your shoulders like that.”
“I’m kind of embarrassed,” I confessed.
He understood. He reached out and gave my hand a squeeze. “Don’t be. No one noticed anything. Not that I’d have cared if they had.”
“I’ve just never done anything so…unrestrained before. I mean, it’s really not my style.”
“No?” His eyes got that gleam again. “If you’d prefer to be restrained, I can do that. Gladly.”
I could feel myself blush as I pictured it.
“Which reminds me, do up your seatbelt. We could hit turbulence again at any moment.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Wicked eyebrow lift at that. He took my hand in his, sliding his thumb back and forth over my fingers. “So what happens when this plane lands?”
“If it lands. As opposed to ditching or crashing or—”
“When it lands,” he cut me off, “I am going to the resort that I would have gone to with my girlfriend, if she hadn’t broken up with me. It was all paid for, so I decided to come enjoy the sun and the sea. But I could use some company. Can we spend some time together while we’re here?”
“Was this a recent break up?” If he was on the rebound, just having sex with me because he needed someone to have sex with….
“No, not at all. I made the reservations months ago.”
“And in all that time you didn’t find a new girlfriend to bring on vacation with you?”
“Nope. Kinda pathetic, huh?” He cocked his head to one side, looking heart-wrenchingly cute. “So? Are you gonna give me your number? Hand over your phone so I can type mine into your contact list.”
I did it. I hoped I wasn’t making an awful mistake. I was vacationing in Cayman with my mother, and if Harry and I saw each other there, he was bound to find out who I really was.
Fortunately, Mom wasn’t on the island yet. She wouldn’t get in until much later
tonight. Still, she would be there tomorrow, and for the whole rest of the vacation.
We were nearly at the end of this flight. I’d better tell him, I thought, trying to find the right words.
Chapter Ten
Charley
Before I could make my confession, the pilot informed us that we were descending to our destination. Despite everything that had happened, I went through my usual nervous flyer routine. But I had to admit that it seemed easy compared with the terror of the oxygen masks and the dive.
Was it my imagination, or was Harry withdrawing as we landed? I could guess what he was thinking: wait, what did I do here? They’ll be plenty of chicks below on the island. No reason to get stuck with this one just because we had a moment.
I had never been lucky in love.
Okay, wrong word. We’d spent a few hours together.
When it came to men, I wasn’t lucky, period.
We got separated while exiting the plane. He stopped to help someone who was struggling with luggage while I got pushed forward by people who were eager to hit the beach and start partying. We ended up walking separately to the terminal. The tropical air was hot and humid, but it felt delightful. A steel band was playing lively Caribbean music as we were ushered into the welcome lounge at Grand Cayman’s small but tidy airport.
Harry and I ended up in different immigration lines. His moved much more slowly than mine. I’d expected to see him in the baggage and customs area, but he must have gotten stuck behind me. I loitered a bit, but I didn’t want to seem too obvious about it.
Strangers on a plane. He didn’t even know we had a history because I’d been too much of a coward to tell him.
As I was headed out of the arrivals terminal into the blasting sunshine, I heard a voice call my name. A female voice.
I froze. My mom? What the hell? Her flight wasn’t due in until this evening. I’d told her I’d rent a car and drive back to the airport tonight to pick her up, but she’d urged me not to bother. She’d catch a cab and see me later.
But there she was—waving, smiling, and hurrying toward me. Uh-oh. I looked back over my shoulder, and, sure enough, Harry appeared, exiting the customs area and looking around. He was shielding his eyes with the palm of his hand. Was he looking for me?
I had to get Mom away from here quickly. Harry hadn’t recognized me, but for sure he’d know my mom. She hadn’t changed a bit; she never changed. She’d worn the identical hairstyle for as long as I could remember—very flattering, but exactly the same. And, let’s face it, he’d known his principal and fellow faulty member a whole lot better than he’d ever known me.
I should have told him, dammit. What kind of a fool was I to think I could get away with this without him finding out?
“Hi, Mom,” I said, giving her a quick hug and grabbing her arm to tug her away—far away—from the terminal. “I thought you weren’t getting in until tonight?”
“I caught an earlier flight,” she said, kissing my cheek.
“Hey, Emily,” I heard from behind me. “Hang on. Don’t rush off.”
Dammit. He’d seen me. Wait. I wanted him to see me. I wanted to see him. Oh shit, this was such a mess.
I kept walking. My mom paid no attention to the shout. My middle name was Emily, but nobody had ever called me that.
Harry had never been shy or reticent. He caught up with us easily, and touched me from behind. His fingers caressed the skin at the back of my neck, making me quiver. “Emily? Wait a sec.”
I turned because I had to. I couldn’t just walk away from him without a word. The sun was bright and Harry had donned a pair of aviator sunglasses. My mother turned too, a quizzical look on her face.
Harry smiled. “Where are you staying while you’re here?”
I stammered the name of our resort.
“Is that the one on the east side of the island? That’s convenient. I’m over there, too.” He grinned and flashed his cell phone at me. “The number I gave you should work; it’s supposed to keep taking calls even when I’m out of the country.”
“Emily?” my mother said.
Harry looked at her fully for the first time. Her expression did not change, but his did. He looked quizzical for a moment, and then his brow knotted. His smile disappeared.
“My daughter’s name is Charlotte.”
Harry looked from her to me and back to her. He didn’t say a word.
“Actually,” my mother went on, clueless, “Her middle name is Emily. Charlotte Emily. After the Bronte sisters, of course.”
“Of course,” said Harry, the former English teacher, in a totally flat voice. “Charlotte Emily Pendleton. And you are her mother, Adele Pendleton.”
My mother smiled politely and extended her hand. “Do we know each other?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
It sounded like an accusation. But with those reflective sunglasses he was wearing, it would have been hard for anyone to recognize him.
I found myself leaping to my mother’s defense. “You didn’t remember me.”
The look he gave me was difficult to interpret. My heart was slamming, and the sun was beating mercilessly down on the three of us. It’s always summer in the Cayman Islands. After living in San Francisco for a while, I was having a hard time adjusting to the heat.
“I do now,” Harry said. Then he turned and walked away.
“What was that all about?” My mother asked, gazing after him with a frown between her eyes. “Who was that? Should I remember him? He looks familiar, but I can’t place him.”
“Oh god, oh god, let’s just go. Please. Can we get out of here?”
“Okay,” Mom said, slipping her arm through mine. “But who was he?”
“Just some guy I met on the plane.” Just some guy I hooked up with on the plane. A mistake. A big mistake. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Eleven
Harry
Standing in the sun in a tropical paradise where you’re hoping to spend part of your summer vacation with the incredibly sexy woman you’ve just fallen head over heels for is not where you expect your life to flash before your eyes.
I knew Adele Pendleton, Principal Pendleton, as soon as I took a good look at her face. What I couldn’t understand was: 1. How the hell she had materialized in front of me on Grand Cayman and 2. Why Emily was talking to her.
You don’t forget the woman who summarily fired you without even listening to your side of the story. Or how she refused to give you a reference, even though you’d done a damn good job teaching high school English for a year, or almost a year, before you’d made one extremely stupid mistake.
I guess I’d forgiven her for not listening to my side, since there was no way to excuse what I’d done. What kind of an idiot had sex on a table during school hours with one of his colleagues? I’d gotten her fired, too—me and my damn penchant for sexual risk-taking.
Hell, I was still doing stupid things sex-wise. Emily—er, Charlotte—and I could have been caught fooling around on the plane. It had been a nearly full flight.
Even after I recognized my former principal, it had taken me a couple of moments to process that she and Emily—Charlotte—were mother and daughter. And that Emily was Charlotte. The same Charlotte who had driven me crazy and made me hear Sting lyrics in my head every time she walked past me in the classroom.
Fuck my life. I couldn’t believe that I had failed to recognize her. I was stunned. Why had I recognized Adele so quickly but not her daughter?
Charlotte—Charley, they had called her then, I remembered—looked very different now. She’d grown up, crossing that invisible line between “too young for me” and “hot, gorgeous, and fuckable.”
Charley was the first high school girl I’d had to forcibly order myself to stop thinking dirty bad-teacher thoughts about. Maybe because it was my first year teaching and I hadn’t yet developed any strategies for dealing with surges of unbridled lust, I’d spent most of that year wondering if I’d made a drast
ic error in my choice of profession.
She looked good. No, she looked fantastic. No longer a high school kid, she was now a woman, with that breezy confidence I’d first noticed in the departure terminal. The younger Charley had been so fresh, so new. Shy, too. But she’d had a way with people, despite not being an assertive extrovert. She’d smiled a lot and had always been quick to help if anyone needed something.
She wasn’t one of the super popular prom-queen type girls, but she had her close circle of friends and she could always been seen, outside her locker or in the lunch room, laughing with the kids she hung out with. She was a good student and an excellent writer. She’d been accepted to several good colleges, and I’d even written her a recommendation.
Before she’d gotten me sacked.
Fuck.
I wasn’t done with Emily. Charlotte. Charley. She had clearly known who I was. Why hadn’t she identified herself to me on the plane? Did she think I was still mad at her after all these years?
I wasn’t still mad at her for that, but dammit, I was mad at her for this. She’d lied to me. Given me a fake name. And yet, she’d opened herself up to me as sweetly and hotly as a woman ever could, so what the hell was I to make of that?
I still wanted to see her again. Fuck her. Do all sorts of interesting things to her. I wanted to use her roughly. Punish her. Watch her sigh, submit and scream out her pleasure.
I knew where she was staying. She’d told me that, at least, even if she hadn’t given me her true name.
Charley wasn’t getting away from me. She still owed me. It was time for her to pay the piper. Now, after all these years.
Chapter Twelve
Charley
My mom and I drove to the other side of the island, away from the hustle and bustle of Georgetown, the main city on Grand Cayman. Most of the hotels, restaurants, and even supermarkets were on the Georgetown side of the island; it was pretty quiet where my Mom had her timeshare.