Now, I know he is wrong. But his confidence is disarming. “What makes you think so? You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I may not know much about you, yet,” Gatsby says. His lips pause a bit on the word ‘yet’, as if they are massaging the word. “But I do know one thing. Maybe one of the most important things about you.”

I stare him down. I challenge him to tell me what it is that he thinks is the most important thing about me.

“You’re not just a regular girl, Annabelle. You’re quite special. Regular girls don’t go hiking for five days in the wilderness. Alone.”

I want to say maybe they do if something really bad has happened. If they really need to clear their heads. If it’s the only place in the world where they can be somewhere else. But I don’t.

“No matter what caused you to do that,” he says, as if he’s able to read my mind. “But ordinary girls don’t go into the wilderness unless they really love it there. Unless it gives them solace and hope and life. So what I know about you is that you love the wild.”

I give up my stare and look away. He’s right, of course. I do love nature. I love its beauty and its life. I love the animals, the trees, the bugs, and the earth.

And the thing that I love most about it is that it lacks people. People and their complications. There is no traffic, no cars, no waiting around. There is just you and the world how it is meant to be.

“Okay, yes, I like the wild,” I say.

“Well, that’s how I know that you don’t want to cut this date short. If you like the wild, you’ll love this place.”

I nod and give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Besides, this place isn’t just for you. It’s also for me. I like the wild too. And with everything that has been going on at the office, I needed some time away. Sometime somewhere else. In nature.”

“Because of the company going public?”

“Yes, the IPO process has been a big pain.”

I want to offer words of encouragement, but nothing comes to mind except, “I heard that it will make you a very rich man.”

This time, it’s he who rolls his eyes.

“I’m already a very rich man.” He shrugs. “To tell you the truth, I didn’t really want to get into all of this in the first place. It was my brothers’ idea. And it’s my father’s company, so I’m trying to keep the peace.”

I had no idea any of this was going on. But then again, I hardly know anything about him in the first place. Gatsby stops talking and looks away. I want to push him for more information, but I feel like he needs space.

We sit in silence for a while, the airplane cruising through the air barely making a ripple. There is a familiar sound coming from the surround sound. And then I realize that it is Adele’s song Rolling in the Deep without the words. Just the instrumental part. An instrumental version of My Immortal takes over after that.

I cross my legs in the seat and close my eyes. This is the most comfortable place, and not just for an airplane. We might as well have been in a luxurious hotel room. The flight is so smooth that the water in my teacup barely moves.

“The air here is different somehow, right?” I ask. “It doesn’t feel like typical airplane air.”

Gatsby shrugs. I stick my tongue out and taste it. “Most of the air on planes is dry, sort of lacking in moisture. But here, it’s different. Humidified maybe.”

Lost in my thoughts, I look at Gatsby and am caught off guard by the strange look on his face. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips part in a small smile.

“What?” I ask.

“What are you doing to me?” he demands.

I blush. I’m honestly not flirting. I’m just tasting the air.

“Come here,” he says, tapping his hand on his leg. The sternness in his voice turns me on, and I obey.

“Am I supposed to be out of my seat like this? I don’t think the FAA would approve.”

“This is my plane, and if I say it’s okay, it’s okay.”

My knees grow weak, and I melt into his lap. I want him to pull my hair back and kiss me forcefully, but he just moves my hair off my shoulders and lightly kisses my neck. This small erotic gesture drives me wild, and I lean toward him and kiss him on the mouth. I bury my hands in his hair and tilt his head up to mine. His hands remain at his sides, but his lips kiss mine, and his large cock swells beneath me.

“No, we can’t do this here.” I suddenly remember where I am. I pull away from him and look around for Stacey, but she is nowhere to be found. Maybe she’s hiding somewhere near the cockpit.

“Oh yes, we can.” He wraps his arms around me and draws me back to him.

“Should we go somewhere more private?” I ask. I can’t stand the fact that Stacey will know what I am doing here with him. I’m not this kind of girl. Gatsby just does something to me. He makes me do crazy things.

“Like a bathroom, you mean?” he mumbles through the kisses. I nod. Suddenly, he pulls away from me and looks me straight in the eyes.

“We don’t need to go to the bathroom, Annabelle. You see that button over there?”

A small button with the words ‘Private’ on it is glowing. “That means no one’s going to bother us.”

Gatsby presses another button, and the light around us dims. Wrapped in a soft light as if from a candle, I look at him.

“No one is going to walk in on us, Annabelle. You don’t have to worry,” he whispers and moves closer. Wordlessly, he pulls off my work jacket and untucks my blouse from my skirt. He runs his fingers over my thighs.

“I don’t know…” I mumble, but he silences me with a kiss.

He positions me across his chest, pulling off my blouse and undoing my bra, freeing my breasts. He runs my fingers up his arm, feeling the veins that bulge out of it, as he cups my breasts.

His arms are strong and powerful, much stronger than they look in that tailored suit of his. Kissing me along my neck, he pushes me back to my feet and takes off my shoes. Once I am barefoot and topless before him, he unzips my skirt and drops it down.

I thread my fingers into his hair as his lips graze my nipples. Shivers run up my spine. His thick hair is so silky that my fingers can’t find traction, and I end up just caressing his hair instead of tugging on it as I had planned.

Completely nude, he sits me back down on his lap, facing away from him. His fingers find my clit, and my pussy begins to throb. I resist the urge to clench my thighs and open up instead. I pull up my feet to the top of his knees and open wide. He is still fully dressed, yet I am completely naked and spread wide like an eagle. It’s not like me. I’m not this girl, and yet I feel no shame.

He starts to kiss me behind my ears as his fingers find their way inside of me. The faster his fingers move, the more energy starts to build up within me. It builds quickly, spreading from my clit outwards toward my toes and fingers.

I let out a moan. “I’m getting close.”

“I know.”

His fingers swirl faster.

“Come for me,” he orders.

That sends me over the edge. The orgasm pulsates throughout me, and my body starts to shake. My mind goes blank, and my body goes limp on top of him. The release is so intense that I close my eyes and disappear as if into another world.

Whenever I come back, I am wrapped in a blanket in a fully reclined seat with Gatsby lying next to me.

“How was that?” he asks, pushing hair out of my face.

“Wonderful,” I mumble.

“Good. We’re almost there.”

I look out the window, but it’s pitch black and I can’t see a thing. “Where?”

“Yellowstone.”