Arrogant Savior - Terri E. Laine Page 0,2
headset.
And so it began. I pushed up on the throttle. The speed increased, as did my excitement, and what I loved about flying began.
When I hit our cruising altitude, I flipped the switch so I could speak to my passenger.
“You are now free to move about the cabin. When seated, please keep your seat belt fastened for any unexpected turbulence.”
I smiled at myself, wondering if that’s what I’d say when I captained my first flight for Skyland Airlines in a Boeing 787 or an Airbus A330.
The plane I flew now was fine and allowed me to fly solo under the exemption granted by the FAA based on my current pilot rating. But my dream was always bigger than private jets.
I’d wanted to laugh in her face at her comment that I was young. She had no idea how long I’d been flying. I’d flown small aircrafts with my father since I was a kid, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat as Dad taught me to fly. Of course, I hadn’t actually flown in the role of captain or alone until I was legally old enough to do so.
Thinking about her reminded me of my duties. I turned on the autopilot and unstrapped myself before getting up. This might be my last private flight for a long time if I could help it, I didn’t want my father’s business to go under. It was best to make nice to the client, or rather his well-taken care of mistress, as the man in question was according to the headlines happily married for over thirty years.
I opened the door and came to a sudden stop. Jolene’s back was to me and her well-shaped ass was high in the air as she bent to shrug jeans on. Instantly, I was hard whether I wanted to be or not.
She stilled about the same time I did, probably having heard the door open. Very slowly, she stood as much as she could with the low ceiling. Gone was the red number that had a hood, reminding me of the classic Little Red Riding Hood outfit. She continued pulling up her jeans to cover that toned ass before turning to face me.
A red single-piece swimsuit that barely contained her generous breasts greeted me before she zipped up curve-clinging jeans.
“Are you just going to stare?” she asked, aiming dagger-filled eyes at me.
“You can’t wear that and expect a guy not to look.”
“Are you slut-shaming me?”
“No,” I said. “But you didn’t wear that and expect not to be noticed.”
I should have said nothing. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t as the saying went.
“I’m allowed to wear what I want.”
“You are. Just as you know how beautiful you are and what wearing that will do to the average guy.” I held up my hands. “Just saying.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re a pig.”
“I’m a guy with a healthy sex life. If you don’t want a guy like me to wonder what it would be like to thrust in between those thighs of yours, don’t come out of your house at all.”
Her jaw dropped and I realized I’d fucked up because she was a client.
“I’m allowed my thoughts. As long as I don’t act on them, I haven’t crossed a line,” I said.
“Well, keep your thoughts to yourself.”
I held up my hands to make peace. “Look. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I came out here to make sure you had everything you needed.”
She rolled her soft looking bottom lip in her mouth to bite on it as if in thought. I resisted the urge to groan. She’s sexy as fuck, but she’s the client, I reminded myself yet again.
“Just point me in the right direction and you go back to flying the airplane,” she said. Her eyes darted to the open door and out the front window.
I chuckled. “You’re fine. I’ve been doing this for a while.” I pointed to the cabinet above the one I’d tossed her bag in. “Drinks and snacks are in here. Sorry, nothing more, as this was a last-minute booking.” I glanced at my watch. “We have less than three hours flying time if all goes well.”
She nodded. “And all will go well?”
Her hopefulness almost allowed me to humanize her, unlike the spoiled rich I usually flew around.
“If we stay ahead of the storm.” Fear crossed her pretty face and I held a hand up. “Don’t worry. I have an alternate flight plan if the weather pattern changes.”
We stood there for a second