Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle

by Delilah Wilde

  I glance at the traffic light then back to the rearview mirror. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” I scream, not even caring that the driver behind me can’t hear me.

  The light in front of me finally flips to green, and I stomp on the gas. The headlight behind me twirl to a stop. As their reflection grows smaller, I shake my head and try to catch my breath. “I need a break,” I say to the rain. “I need to just get away from here. And take a break.”

  A few minutes later, I find myself turning down the high way and toward the airport. It’s the only way to help make sure that you actually get a break. That no one will show up unannounced and ruin it. Take a vacation, you deserve it.

  I park in the long term parking lot and grab my bags. Trying to remember what I packed. Do I have everything I would need? Need for what? Where am I going?

  I stare at the flight board behind the ticket line. So many wonderful choices, some of which I placed onto my bucket list when I first started at my job.

  The small group in front of me are snickering. They look young, fresh out of high school maybe.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

  “Oh, come on, Jenny. You’re going to love Thailand. Tropical beaches. Dancing. The prettiest sunsets in the world. You. In a bikini. You’re going to love it.”

  “You keep saying that, but I still wish we could have gone skiing instead. It’s a family tradition. Every Christmas we head up to the mountains. Skiing, fireplaces, hot chocolate. Snuggles. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

  “Sure, if we were some old couple looking to retire. Or somewhere to bring the kids. Come on, it’s Winter break. Let’s go to paradise.”

  She moans and leans up into him to lick his lips.

  Bitch, I think to myself. You have a boyfriend taking you to a paradise and you’re complaining about it?

  I bite my lip and stare back at the board again. The lady behind the counter calls them up ahead of me and exchanges his credit card for a pair of tickets. A few minutes later, the two were practically skipping through the gate. I wait for the lady to call me up to the counter, and place my credit card up.

  “How much is a ticket to Thailand?”

  “Okay, do you want to go to the main land or do you want to fly to one of the islands?”

  “Um, an island, please.”

  “Okay, well we have a flight leaving in a few minutes on Cathaway Pacific. There’s a scheduled layover in Hong Kong. For $1,332.”

  “Sorry. Did you say 1332 as in one thousand, three hundred and thirty two dollars?”

  Her smile starts to fade as she nods her head.

  I stare down at my credit card. The shared account John and I set up over a year ago. John’s going to kill me.

  “Oh well, sure, let’s go. I’ll take it.” I say as I slide the card over the counter.

  “Great!” the lady’s smile returns in all its bubbly glory as she swipes the card through the computer.

  Where the hell am I going to sleep when I get there? Who cares. You can figure it out. Hop online and book a hotel room while you’re waiting for the plane to board. I take a deep breath, biting my tongue and hoping the lady behind the counter hurries up and finishes taking the money before I lose my nerve and change my mind.

  I wonder how long it will take John to realize that he just paid for my ticket to Thailand?

  Chapter Two

  Once the ticket is paid for and I can skip through the doors and toward security, I start to relax.

  This. This is exactly everything that I needed. Vacation. Is that what I’m calling this now? I guess technically that’s what it is — an escape. A break from all the crap surrounding me.

  Five days and four nights in Thailand. Nothing but sun, beaches, tours, and souvenirs. If that doesn’t wipe away the nightmare of the last couple days, then I don’t know what would.

  Still, I wish the line through security would move a bit faster. I know I haven’t flown in a while, but the security measures in this airport are insane. How, exactly, does making a person remove her shoes help secure the plane? Are people in the habit of hiding bombs in their heels?

  Of course, I also have no right to be surprised. I’m lucky the airport is even running at all. If I had tried to leave yesterday, or the day before, I’m sure this would be a very different story.

  Airports always take a while to get their security measures back into smooth working order after being shut down.

  At least this isn’t that bad. Standing in line for an hour to remove my belt and shoes. Walking through the metal detector while the security guards dissect everything in my duffle bag. Checking every electronic to ensure its function.

  “I’m sorry, Miss. But you can’t bring this on the plane with you,” one guard says as he pulls my body spray and lotion out of my bag.

  “Are you serious?”

  “No containers with more than three ounces of liquid aboard any flight. I’m sorry Miss. You can either go back and check these to go with baggage. Or you can leave them here and I’ll dispose of them.”

  I glance around at the growing line behind me. Every pair of eyes on me glared with impatience and annoyance. “I guess you can just keep them,” I whisper.

  I hope the hotel has stuff I can use to replace them.

  The security guard nods and grabs out the last of my toiletries before tossing my bag over to me. You can go there, put your shoes back on, grab your belt and your bag. And try to keep the line moving.”

  “Watch out, watch out!” a man yells at me as he snaps up his briefcase and rushes past me. His shoulder slams into my arm, nearly knocking me over.

  He doesn’t even stop to check on me as he slips back into his dress shoes and darts down the hall to his gate.

  “Asshole,” I whisper.

  “Right?” the woman next to me giggles.

  I smirk and nod as I try to tie my soaking wet sneaker. Balancing on one leg next to this conveyor belt is definitely not the way I imagined this escape would start. Yet, here I am. Rolling my eyes with a woman I’ve never met before and trying to grab the rest of my things so I can make it to the gate on time.

  I still want to make a few stops on the way. First stop: gift shop. I need a new notebook and some pens. Maybe even a word search. Anything to distract me from the terror I have of flying would work. After that: coffee.

  And finally, here I am at the gate, lugging along my duffle bag to be used as a carry on while trying to balance my coffee and my new notepads.

  My heart drops as I approach the podium in front of the gate. What are the odds that guy would be taking the same flight?

  His briefcase is sitting between his feet as he smiles at the flight attendant.

  “No I mean it. I know this sounds like a sad little pick up line. You know? Like something that you hear on some poorly written romance movie. But really, I’ve never met a flight attendant with a smile as beautiful as yours.”

  She blushes about as intensely as I roll my eyes. Is this guy for real?

  He smiles some more and grabs her hand, whispers something against her skin and then presses his lips against the back of her hand. She blushes more, and pulls her hand away with a giggle.

  “You still think it’s a line,” he says with a wink.

  Of course it’s a line! I scream inside my head.

  Finally, she smirks and cocks her eyebrows at him. Then she leans over the podium into him and whispers something into his ear. He chuckles and nods before grabbing his briefcase and turning around.

  Right into me.

  His elbow hits my coffee and spills the much needed caffeine back into me and into my bag of notepads.

  “Oh crap!” I say.

  He walks off without a word. I’m not even sure if he knew he hit me. If he does know, then he obviously doesn’t care. Not even a pause. He just jaunts right over to the waiting area and grabs a seat.

  I roll my eyes and try to wipe as much of the lost coffee from my shirt as possible.

  “O
h, rough morning huh?” the flight attendant asks me.

  “Yea. Rough night is more like it.” I hand over my ticket for her to inspect.

  She grabs my ticket and skims over it, glancing over at the man the whole time. “Okay, well, thank you for flying with us Misses Anderson.”

  “Miss Anders.”

  “What?” She says without even looking at me.

  “Kirsten Anders. My name is— forget it.” I grab my ticket back from the space cadet and stomp over to the waiting area.

  Most of the seats are taken. Who would have thought this many people were flying to Hong Kong? The sun is barely peaking over the horizon, yet the waiting area is filled with men and women in business suits already screaming into their cell phones and pounding at the keyboards to their laptops.

  Business as fucking usual, I think to myself as I grab a seat and begin my search for a hotel.

  Boarding the plane proves to be just as much of a hassle as shuffling through the airport. People crowding along the aisle, pausing to read their tickets and compare the numbers to those above the seats. Thankfully it doesn’t take me long to find my seat. I open the overhead container and start to lift my bag to put it in.

  “Excuse me, mind if I get by?”

  I glance over to see the same man. His perfect, white teeth shine against his tan lips. His brown hair looks perfectly sunned into highlights that from his face.

  Why does perfect always have to come with such an attitude?

  “Oh, sorry.” I say. “I’m just having trouble getting this up here.” I try again to shove my bag up above the seats. Of course, one of the pockets is full and sticking out, catching on the lip of the compartment and keeping the bag from sliding in.

  “Well, come on. You’re holding everyone else up,” he grunts and grabs my bag. With one violent shove he sends the bag into the back of the compartment.

  I shake my head and take my seat to clear the aisle.

  Then he sits down next to me.

  Well isn’t that just dandy? I think to myself.

  Cursing my own bad luck, I hold my breath and grit my teeth while he adjusts himself. Rocking back and forth in his seat and hitting me in the arm with his elbow. Just as I think he’s done annoying me, he decides to take off his suit jacket, revealing his muscular arms. He rolls his jacket up and tosses it behind his head to use it as a pillow.

  I’m still drooling over his arms.

  “Excuse me, you two,” one of the flight attendants stop at our seats.

  “Yes?” says the man.

  “It seems we’re all booked up and there is an empty seat in first class. If either of you are interested in upgrading you—.”

  I sit up, ready to take the upgrade. I don’t even care if it’s going to cost me more. Anything was better than being forced to sit and drool next to this guy.

  “I’ll take it,” the man says before I can spit out my answer.

  Well, almost anything would be better than being forced to sit next to this guy.

  He jumps up from the seat and grabs his bag. Without a word, he follows the flight attendant up through the curtains and into first class.

  Still dumbfounded into silence, I lean back into my seat and buckle my seatbelt back up.

  Maybe now I can finally have some peace.

  Chapter Three

  The curtain separating first class from the rest of us doesn’t do a very good job of hiding anything. I remember when first class meant something. It meant VIP treatment. Free goodies. Special treatment. Now it barely meant more leg room and no privacy.

  I smirk and my eyes dart around the curtain, wondering if it was even made to fit into the door or if it was a quick project to throw something up there, and he catches my eye again.

  Why can’t I seem to get away from that guy?

  He’s smiling back up at the flight attendant. Her breasts are about to pop right out of her shirt, the way she leans over him to whisper into his ear.

  Her lips twitch and she closes her eyes. That’s when I notice his hand gently grazing against her breast. The nipple hardening beneath her blouse. She bites her lip and takes in a deep breath as he adjusts himself in his seat.

  She smiles and leans in further. Then, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she reaches down and rubs her hand along his thigh

  Oh my God I avert my eyes and stare at the seat in front of me. Oh my God they’re going to have sex.

  I clench my eyes shut and concentrate on the fold down tray stuck to the back of the chair. When my eyes travel up again, her tongue is deep between his lips, and his hand is traveling up the inside of her thigh.

  Can’t they get caught? I wonder. Surely this can get her fired?

  If it can cost her her job, the flight attendant doesn’t seem to care. She edges over and nibbles at his ear while he rubs her.

  I wonder if he’s rubbing through her panties, or did he just move them aside and… is she wearing panties? I notice my own juices starting to build up. I adjust and stretch out my legs a little. Why am I even thinking about them?

  I decide to lean back and try to take a nap. I close my eyes. Chills run up and down the edges of my nerves. I imagine warm, hard hands rubbing my flesh. Followed by a moist, hot tongue. I shake my head and glance back over.

  The flight attendant is gone.

  But the man is still smiling. He’s still adjusting himself. And then it dawns on me.

  The flight attendant isn’t gone. She’s just in front of him. I squint to get a closer look.

  Sure enough, the edge of a blanket danced slightly in his lap.

  She was sucking him off. Right there in first class.

  How is it possible that she hasn’t been caught yet?

  I turn to look down the aisle. Looks clear. I could really use a stretch. So I unbuckle my seatbelt and head down to the bathroom.

  Maybe by the time I finish in here those two will be done and I can get on with my flight without feeling like a Peeping Tom. I smile awkwardly at the other passengers as I pass them by.

  Then, finally, privacy.

  Airplane bathrooms are notoriously small. Barely room enough to bend over and pull up your pants, much less do anything else. And this one is no exception.

  I sit on the fake toilet and close my eyes, trying to wipe their image from the back of my eyelids.

  I finally finish my business and get cleaned up. Then I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.

  My nipples are pressing through my shirt. I try to hold them in, thinking if I can warm them up they’ll return to normal. But after a few seconds I start to massage my breasts.

  I love my breasts. Round. Plump. My nipples are sensitive, almost too sensitive. Every breeze sends shockwaves through them. I continue to rub and roll my nipples, unbuttoning my shirt so I can get a better grip on them.

  My cold fingertips shock me at first. I take in a deep breath and stare at my reflection. My breasts pouring out of the lace of my bra. Hanging free from my unbuttoned shirt. I grab both breasts in my hands and squeeze. Closing my eyes and throwing my head back.

  His image is there. Again. Running his hands over my breasts and suckling at my hard nipples. Rubbing his tongue against them as I moan and squirm.

  “Excuse me, Ma’am? Are you okay in there?” A woman calls in to me.

  I open my eyes and lean back against the wall, staring at the reflection of my arousal. “I’m fine,” I say. “Sorry, I’m not really feeling all that well, I might be a few minutes.”

  My hand caresses the rest of my curves. I close my eyes again and imagine that he is gripping my waist. Tracing my abdominal muscles with his fingertips as his tongue seeks out and discovers my stomach. My belly button.

  And then.

  I take in another breath. My clit trembles as my fingertips dip into my panties and brush against it.

  Juices flowing.

  I quickly lick my fingers, granting my nipple the moist rub it deserves while my other hand reaches into the folds of
my pussy. My fingertips are coated in my juices as they rub and dance around my clit. I clench my eyes shut and plunge my fingers as deep into my pussy as I can reach.

  Two fingers.

  In.

  Out.

  Grazing against my clit. Rubbing along my core.

  Oh. My. God.

  I open my eyes just in time to feel my stomach clench and my orgasm heat up. I let go of my breast and rub my clit harder. Shaking against the wall and biting my tongue to keep from screaming.

  When I’ve finished, I let my arms fall limp and try to catch my breath.

  Someone knocks on the door again.

  “One more second, I’m just finishing up,” I call out.

  Now that is how to start a vacation I tell myself as I lean over the tiny sink to wash my hands.

  If everyone could please return to their seats and fasten their seat belts. We are going to be making an unscheduled stop here in Hawaii. Nothing major, just a quick checkup and we’ll be back on our way.

  Half way back to my seat and the pilot is announcing an unscheduled stop. Obviously, he has never met my anxiety.

  I whirl around in the middle of the aisle and head back to the nearest flight attendant I can see. “What does that mean? Why are we landing?”

  “It’s really nothing to be concerned about, Ma’am. Go ahead and get back to your seat.”

  “Mmmm,” I growl and turn back to my seat.

  The crack in the curtain is still there, laughing at me. I peer through only to see that they are gone. Both of them.

  I take in a deep breath and reclaim my seat. Maybe they’re gone. Or maybe they went to go finish each other off in the bathroom? I giggle at the thought of those two sexing it up in the first class bathroom while I was handling myself in the other bathroom. With my seatbelt stretched across my lap, I pull the chair back upright and wait for the plane to land.

  It doesn’t take long.

  The scene outside was beautiful. I’m tempted to just stay in Hawaii and say never mind to Thailand. After all, Hawaii seems to have everything I was hoping for in this vacation: sun, beaches and exotic foods.