“Nope, can’t say I know who he is since I don’t watch television and when I do, it is all of the Real Housewives series because you live and breathe BravoTV.”
“Girl, Cal Harrington is this hot up-and-coming actor who is currently on one of the highest rated TV shows. His character is so hot on that show. You might not recognize him because he wears a long blond wig. He has gorgeous blue eyes and he is mostly bare chested in every episode. And the sex scenes,” he sighs. “Let’s just say I masturbate to them all the time.”
I hear someone laugh and look over my shoulder at a young lady who is listening to our conversation. She quickly looks away and I turn my attention back to Robert.
“Robert, PLEASE lower your voice!” I whisper but he has peaked my curiosity. “So, the sex scenes are man on man?”
“Oh honey, do I wish, but alas, he is banging hot Viking chicks. I just take them out of the equation and insert myself.” We continue to watch Cal Harrington as he proceeds to disappear in the crowd.
“OH MY GOODNESS, what if he is on your flight to Las Vegas? I bet you he is. You lucky bitch! If you are sitting next to him, you better kiss him full on the lips, with tongue, and get his autograph for me.”
“Highly unlikely since a) I would probably get arrested for kissing him when he shouts that a stranger sexually assaulted him and b) he is probably in first class and I am in coach.”
“Jenna, did you not look at your ticket? You ARE in first class.” He rolls his eyes at me for not paying attention to where I will be seated on the plane.
I look at my ticket and sure enough, I am in seat 3B, which is first class. I have never sat in first class.
“Robert, you know I can’t afford first class! Why would you do this?” I ask, getting angry just thinking about how much a first class ticket from NYC to Las Vegas is going to cost me.
“Have a little faith in me, Jenna. You have a gazillion frequent flyer miles, so I used some of your points to upgrade you. I knew it was going to be a long flight and figured maybe you would use your time on the flight to rest, even though I know you will work the whole time.“
Now I am speechless. That is one of the nicest things anyone has done for me. With no rebuttal, I just give him a hug and whisper thank you in his ear for always taking care of me.
“You’re welcome. I better get going. My flight back home is going to board soon.” He grabs his laptop bag and I stand up to give him a hug.
“Call me when you land,” he says, and starts walking away.
“I will – have a safe flight back to Chicago!” I yell after him.
I finish a couple of more emails and put my laptop away. One of my favorite pastimes at an airport is to people watch, so I sit back and entertain myself with the viewings. A few minutes later, the announcement is made that my flight will be boarding, starting with first class. I make my way to the entrance of the gate. I hand the lady at the counter my ticket to scan, trying to act calm, cool and collected, when inside, I am giddy as a kid in a candy shop to be in first class. I get inside the plane and notice there are four rows of first class, with two seats on each side. Someone has boarded the plane ahead of us and I recognize the baseball hat immediately.
It is Cal Harrington…and he is sitting in the seat right next to mine.
2
If Robert only knew I was going to sit next to the object of his lustfulness for a five-hour flight, he really would wet his panties. I am not one of those people that freaks out when in the presence of a celebrity, and since I have never seen any of Cal Harrington's work, I have no emotional feelings sitting next to him. I place my jacket in the overhead bin and sit. I look at him under my lashes while he plays on his phone. I still can’t get a good look at his face or see his eyes because of how low his baseball hat is sitting on his head. He is a big man. Even in first class with the bigger seats, he takes up the majority of his seat. I start into my pre-flight ritual of taking all the things I want to use during the flight out of my ridiculously oversized purse, and place everything in the seat pocket in front of me. This includes my laptop, a book, and some magazines. As I struggle to get everything into the now overflowing seat pocket, my purse slips off my lap and spills all of its contents right onto his feet. I gasp and start apologizing profusely for my clumsiness while trying to get everything off of his feet and the floor. He leans down next to me and graciously starts to help. I am suddenly overwhelmed by the most enticing, delicious smell my nose has ever had the pleasure of inhaling. I close my eyes, take another deep breath and smile. The mix of his natural scent with his cologne can make any woman orgasm without even a physical touch. I am basking in his manly aroma when I open up my eyes to see the most incredible blue eyes staring back at me. I immediately turn beat red, realizing that I was just caught inhaling him. I sit back up and wait for him to finish handing back my stuff. As he finally sits upright, I am about to issue another apology when the words are caught in my throat.
He is holding one of my tampons with a charming smile on his face.
Not only am I speechless because he is holding my tampon, but I also finally have a view of his face.
He is one of the most magnificent looking men I have ever seen.
He has chiseled high cheek bones with a straight, strong nose. Full kissable lips cover sparkling white teeth. But it is his eyes that have me mesmerized. They are the color of aquamarine and seem to bear into my soul. His gaze is making me feel raw...almost naked, and I struggle not to squirm in my seat.
"You know, you can do some really evil things with these," he says about my tampon.
He is waving it around in the air as a wand, like he is Harry Potter about to cast a spell. Again, something that should be embarrassing is not holding my attention, because not only am I hypnotized by his eyes, but now his voice. It is strong, masculine and British.
"Hey, are you okay?" he kindly asks.
"Excuse me, but what did you just say?" I ask, snapping out of my trance.
"I asked if you are okay?"
"Oh yes, thank you, but before then?” I ask while trying to get the tampon out of his hand, which is conveniently out of my reach.
"I said you can do evil things with these. I used to pull pranks on my sisters all the time with their tampons." He flashes a smile that I can tell has him fondly recalling those memories.
"That is quite evil of you, and I hope they got you back with something equally humiliating,” I say, finally being able to snatch the tampon out of his hand.
He laughs - rich, deep, musical laughter that I immediately want to hear again. I really don’t know what to say to him. I mean, what do you say to some hot man who was holding your tampon?
“Right, so, um, thank you for your help.” I can’t even look at him, so embarrassed that I really want to put this incident behind me.
“You’re welcome, and it is Acqua di Gio,” he says.
“Excuse me?” I ask, startled that he just said something more to me.
“My cologne – it is called Acqua di Gio by Giorgio Armani. I also noticed that you enjoyed the scent. Just thought you might want to know so you can buy it for your significant other,” he responds with grin and a wink.
Oh god, can I be even more embarrassed?
“Yes, well, thank you for that information,“ I stammer, turning very red again.
He throws his head back and laughs. I stare at him, completely transfixed by his laughter. Why is he laughing at me? How can I get him to laugh again?
Beautiful eyes, handsome face, tall, muscular body, and a scent that makes me want to lick every inch of him. Yup, I am totally not talking to him the rest of this flight.
What the hell is wrong with me? Get a grip, Jenna! He is probably used to this adolescent behavior from psychotic fans. I am a grown, professional woman, and can handle sitting next to a gorgeous man.
“My name is Cal, by the way.” He holds out his hand for me to shake.
“Jenna, and thanks again for the help.” I rel
uctantly shake his hand back. I knew there is a reason why I didn’t want to shake it. His hands are firm, warm and they send sparks tingling over my body. This is absolutely absurd that some hot stranger’s touch is making me feel this way. Robert is right – I need to get rid of this pent up sexual tension I have caused myself. I might have to go shopping for the perfect battery-operated boyfriend while in Las Vegas.
“No worries. Are you going to Las Vegas for business or pleasure?”
“Business, although, I do have a couple of days off for some down time. You?”
“Same for me. Relaxation before business begins.”
I was just about to ask if he frequents Las Vegas often when the most obnoxious, high-pitched voice rudely interrupts me.
“It is YOU! OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD!”
Cal and I look up to see a platinum blond, middle-aged woman with bright pink lipstick, and hair as big as the state of Texas hovering over our seat. Her heavily made up green eyes are bright with excitement at discovering him on the same plane.
“Oh, I just love you! You sure are a good actor - you turn this old woman on every week!” she laughs. “Oh, but I am sorry, I don’t mean to say anything disrespectful in front of your girlfriend.”
She looks at me when she mentions the word “girlfriend” and I am actually flattered that she thinks I would be. I smile at her, despite feeling mortified for him that she just revealed that he gets her all hot and bothered.
“Thanks, but I am not his girlfriend,” I tell her.
“I didn’t think so because I just read in a magazine that said he was single, but I didn’t want to be rude.”
Before I could ask if she believes everything she reads about him, she leans down to my ear and whispers, “if I give you one hundred dollars, would you trade seats with me? I know my seat isn’t as fancy as yours since it isn’t first class, but please, he is my favorite actor!”
I quickly glance at him to see his reaction, but he looks as if he didn’t hear her request, and continues to smile at her. I, on the other hand, cannot believe that this lady has the balls to ask me to trade my beloved first-class seat for her economy seat, and that one hundred dollars would lure me to do so.
“I am sorry, ma’am, but I work hard at my job to be able to afford a first-class seat, so the answer is no, I will not be giving up my seat.” She doesn’t need to know that I used points to upgrade to first class.
“Well, there is no reason to be rude about it,” she huffs.
“I am sorry, but I don’t feel that I was being rude about it,” I counter back, annoyed that she called me rude.
“You're holding up the line, lady!” an agitated passenger shouts behind her.
“Good gracious, I have never been so insulted! Enjoy your flight, Cal, and I am sorry you are sitting next to such a bitch!” she declares, and stomps off towards her seat.
My mouth falls open in shock. Big head just called me a bitch? I turn to look at Cal, who is biting his sexy lip to keep from laughing. “Oh my god, are all of your fans like that? She calls me a bitch for not giving up my seat for one hundred dollars? That is CRAZY!”
Not being able to contain it any longer, he lets out a deep bellow of laughter. “The expression on your face when she called you a bitch was brilliant,” he says, laughing.“And no, not all of my fans are as, hmm, how should we describe her…protective of me as she is. I am sorry she called you a bitch.”
“No need to apologize for her. I am sorry if I came across that way. I wouldn’t want you to lose fans because of how I reacted.”
“I don’t think I need to worry about losing her as a fan,” he laughs. “I am very appreciative of fans like her, even if they can sometimes become overzealous. It is the ones who try to get into your personal business, or talk to you like you are your character in real life that scare me.” He looks at me with a devilish grin and says, “let’s be honest, for all I know, you could be one of my stalkers.”
“Funny, but if I was, I would be the best stalker in the history of stalkers,” I say with a laugh. ”In all seriousness, I must confess that I have not seen any of your work. I am sorry, I just don’t watch TV or get to go to the movies very often.”
He stares at me, showing no emotion. I hope I didn’t just offend him, but then that would be very egotistical if he did feel that way. Maybe he doesn’t believe me? I am sure there have been female fans who have said that just to play it cool. How do I convince him that I am telling the truth? Why do you even care if he believes you or not?
“I think that is very refreshing to hear,” he says, staring straight into my eyes. Blushing, I look down, not being able to hold his gaze any longer. I don’t like this feeling of butterflies in my stomach that his gaze is giving me.
The captain of the airplane uses that time to conveniently announce that we will be taking off momentarily, and to expect turbulence for most of our ascent to 35,000 feet. Once we reach 35,000 feet, the air will be calm and the flight attendants will start inflight drink service. I dread this news as I am not the best flyer. I am very uneasy with take-off, but add turbulence to the mix and I am going to be a hot mess.
Wait, why would we have turbulence during take-off? It was beautiful clear blue skies when I arrived at the airport. I look out past him at the window and sure enough, ugly, mean looking gray clouds surround the airport. I must have moaned while grabbing my noise cancellation head phones, because Cal asked if I was okay. "Yeah, I just hate hearing about turbulence. I am not the best flyer, but I shouldn't do anything embarrassing that would make you regret sitting next to me. I keep my turmoil on the inside.” Oh my god, stop rambling, Jenna!
"I understand about not liking to fly. I find distracting yourself to be the best way to handle it. I can tell you some naughty stories to keep your mind off of the bumpy ride," he says with a wicked smile.
His looks are already causing turbulence inside my body. "Maybe you can tell me the stories for the rest of the flight. For take-off, I just like to put my head phones on, close my eyes and hug myself," I reveal, laughing at how pathetic that sounds.
“That actually sounds really sad. But okay, if you change your mind, you know where I sit," he jokes.
I say thank you and settle into my seat. The plane is just waiting for the control tower to give us the okay for take-off. The cabin is silent, almost like the calm before the storm. We must have received the go ahead, because the jet engines start to roar and we start to move, accelerating faster toward taking off. I start my ritual take-off prayer/chant in my head as I feel the plane lifting off the ground.
Please God Safe Flight.
Please God Safe Flight.
I am not a religious person, but for some reason, saying this over and over inside my head makes me feel better. Soon I start emphasizing the please and the God, with every bump, shake, and tilt of the plane as it gets worse. Even though I am wearing noise cancellation headphones, I can hear the engines working at top speed, the gasps of the other passengers as the plane turns at an uneven angle. My arms are crossed over my stomach, my hands gripping the arm rails, holding myself down into my seat. My head is permanently settled back into the head rest. My eyes are squeezed shut, and I am pushing my feet as hard as I can into the floor to prevent my body from matching the jerking movements of the plane. I barely hear the first ding signifying we have reached 10,000 feet. Not that it matters, because with the way the plane is jerking all over the place, the flight attendants can't get out of their seats to announce the use of portable electronic devices. You can feel the plane flying with ferocious velocity, the captain trying to get out of this horrible weather to the promise land of clear skies above the dark clouds and swirling air. Suddenly, the plane drops and our bodies are momentarily suspended in the air, our seat belts preventing us from hitting the roof of the plane. We come crashing back into our seats as the plane continues its journey up. My headphones can't cancel out the crying and screaming of other passengers. I feel something rubbing my hand and
I quickly open my eyes, look down, and see Cal's hand over mine. I look up at his face to see his jaw muscles clenched, his head motioning down to his open hand for me to take. With that encouragement, I raise up the arm rest, grab his right hand with mine and launch myself onto him. My hand grips his right arm and smothers it into my chest, while I bury my head into his armpit. It doesn't matter that I just threw myself onto a complete stranger. It doesn't seem like I can grip him hard enough to prevent the feeling of falling. His left arm comes around to bring me closer to him, trying to shield me from this nightmare. This would be the perfect time to appreciate feeling his hard body, but the plane takes another dip and I am lost again in my prayer.
Please God safe flight.
Please God stop this turbulence.
Please God I am not ready to die.
Please God, please God...please listen.
I hear him then. Not God, but Cal, softly repeating to me “it's going to be okay." And I start to believe him. I secure my grip on him and focus on his voice, his words. More time passes and I feel the plane evening out, the bumps getting fewer and far between. I stop praying and try to enjoy the feeling of his arms, his chest, and how good it feels to be held by someone. It has been so long since I have been held by a man that I have not realized how much I miss it. I am reflecting on my loneliness when the captain comes on the intercom.
"Folks, I apologize for the scariness of the last five minutes. If anyone has been injured, please press the help button to notify the flight attendants. Flight attendants, please do not leave your seats yet. If there are any injuries, we will be landing at the closest airport away from the storm. I am happy to report that we are out of the storm, but please keep your seat belts fasten for the next five minutes to make sure we don't experience any unexpected rough air."
I keep my eyes closed, waiting to feel another dip in the plane. I am also listening for any call buttons being pushed, signifying the need for help. Five minutes comes and goes and I hear nothing.
Heartbreak Warfare (Let Me In Book 1) Page 2
