Avenging Us - Gina Whitney Page 0,100

face-to-face with a ghost that was like a ticking time bomb in my gut, making me nervous. I looked in the rearview mirror as I finally went over the 405 freeway and headed into the home stretch for LAX. Genevieve baby… Fuck! I felt like I was twenty something, a naïve little punk, madly in love with the ideal woman, ideal for me anyway. I dropped the clutch and roared onto Sepulveda Blvd. Hitting the banking turn fast before shooting into the tunnel where the engine really roared. Abel’s voice merged with mine as we sang Tunnel Surfing together.

I felt the sweat forming on my palms and quickly grabbed a towel from the center console. I wasn’t going to let her see me nervous; although, I definitely was a walking stress case needing either a cold drink soon or a couple of pills to take the edge off. Since I wasn’t a pill popper, a cold drink after I picked her up from the airport was in order. Maybe we could hit Houston’s together? Last time we had gone, she had taken her shoes off while sitting across from me and used her feet to tease my cock through my trousers. I smiled at the memory, also realizing she probably wasn’t much of a meat eater now and all the carbs were probably a big no-no for a fashion model – but what the fuck did I know? Never hurt to ask her what she was thinking. Hoping she just states the obvious: “Can we get straight to fucking first?” was what I hoped she would say, but I’d let her make the first move in this match. I used to tease her that she had me at Blowjob. She always thought that was funny. It had become a running joke between us during foreplay.

I swung into the parking area for Bradley International Terminal arrivals and quickly found a parking spot. Checking myself before I got out of the car, I set the car to auto lock in fifteen seconds and stepped out, waiting for the locks and alarm to set, a wicked grin plastered on my face. Fuck, I love this car! I headed across the busy traffic circle to find her in the organized chaos that was LAX.

I felt like I was swimming upstream during spawning season. As soon as I stepped into the street crossing, I was inundated in a constant flow of people. It was fucking ridiculous. Christ! How many people can you jam onto a crosswalk at one time? I chuckled at the bad joke as I saw a small clearing of people; I wedged myself in and made it across. Not bad, I thought.

I made a beeline for the terminal entrance. It seemed like every airline attendant, stewardess, pilot, navigator, everyone was exiting the terminal. Shit! I must have caught a shift change. I scanned through the crowd looking for her, looking for my Genevieve, and just as I got past the flight crews, there she was. She came out of the terminal building and I locked onto her like a heat-seeking missile. Actually, my cock was doing the seeking, my brain was doing the looking, and the rest of me was along for the ride, fully taken hostage but not minding it at all. I saw her scanning the crowd and then she saw me.

She quickly started walking in my direction as I accelerated to match her pace. I had a million lame scenarios about our reunion and not one of them was fucking true for what actually happened. I had dreamed of seeing her and being the perfect gentleman, offering to carry her bag, open the door, smile at her and hold her hand, be polite – what a bunch of crap. Nothing could be further from the truth. Here’s how it went down. We met in front of the terminal. She dropped the bag on the ground next to her feet and put her arms out to give me a hug. I reached forward, yelled Genevieve, and pulled her into me. Before she could blink or get a word in edgewise, I swooped in and kissed her as if our lives depended on it. She melted against the intensity of that kiss – it was unforgettable!

We just stood there, making out for a good minute before we finally, slowly separated and then she said, “Fuck!” All I could do was smile at her. I picked up her bag, slid my arm