That made sense, so I put it from my mind.

However, I almost bumped into them as I picked up my sandwich order. They had been in line behind me, and I hadn’t even known.

I nodded politely at them as I passed by. They both nodded back, one of them with a phone to his ear.

“Fine, Sir, she’s just fine. No problems at all. Yes, Sir,” he was saying.

We headed back to the plane after we’d gathered our goodies. The crowd that we passed was large and restless. Delays never made for a pleasant flight. There was nothing any of us could do about the weather, but a lot of the passengers would feel personally wronged for the inconvenience, and tempers would not be in our favor on the long flight home. I took the thought in stride. It was all part of the job.

It was a relief to finally take off and have something to do aside from waiting and checking my phone for messages.

James hadn’t texted me again. Finally, about an hour before departing, I’d just turned my phone off, so I would quit checking.

The first three hours were a busy blur of activity. The man in 1A had been replaced by the man he had been speaking with in the airport. He behaved in a nearly identical manner, even eating similarly, taking all the food we served, and drinking only water. Once, he deviated, ordering a black coffee, but that was the only difference in the passengers.

Stephan noticed the odd Agent exchange as well. “The guy who was in 1A is in the back of coach now. Which is where this guy sat on the last flight.”

I gave him wide eyes. “Should we be worried?”

He grimaced. “It is odd. But they are very calm and well behaved, so far. If that changes, I’ll talk to the pilots. Who knows, maybe they were delivering something in DC. Or picking something up.”

We had a small break, then got busy again. I was just securing my last cart when I felt the wheels of the plane coming down for landing.

“Come on, Bee,” Stephan told me, already buckled in. His voice held a faint plea. It always made him nervous if I pushed it and buckled in last minute. Mr. Safety.

I had told him about James’s plan to drive us on our errands in the morning. He’d seemed excited about the idea, which was a relief. If Stephan liked James, it made everything easier. No matter how short a time the arrangement lasted.

We had deplaned and were on the crew bus before I remembered to turn on my phone.

I’d missed three calls, and one text. The calls were made sometime before departure, the text at some point during the long flight.

James: Why did you turn your phone off an hour before you pushed back from the gate?

My brow furrowed. I had done that so I wouldn’t be tempted to check my phone every five seconds, but how did he know that? I supposed he could have tracked the flight easily enough online.

Stalker, I thought, texting him back.

Bianca: Quit stalking me. I hope this doesn’t wake you up, but we’re back in Vegas.

He responded almost instantly.

James: I’ll meet you at your house. I told you to text me as soon as you got to Vegas.

Bianca: Working here. You don’t get to boss me around at my job.

James: How wrong you are. Try me. I’ll spank you in your galley.

I put my phone away. That was going nowhere that I needed to go on a bus full of co-workers. I ignored the next two dings that indicated a text.

Stephan drove us home in companionable silence.

“I’m sleeping in tomorrow. Text me when you wanna run errands,” he told me, as he pulled into his drive.

“Sure thing,” I said, getting out of the car.

I froze as I approached my own house. A black SUV was parked in front of it, engine running softly. A cold chill ran down my spine.

“Stephan,” I called out, my voice a little panicked. I could hear his prompt running footsteps as he caught up behind me.

James stepped out of the back of the SUV, and I felt nearly weak with relief. Stephan cursed fluently behind me.

“God, I thought for a second that…” Stephan trailed off.

I just nodded, not looking at him. I knew what he’d thought, what we’d both thought, for a terrifying moment. I tried to shrug it off as James approached us.

“Everything ok?” he asked.

We both just nodded.

He nodded at Stephan as he walked up beside me, putting a firm hand at my nape.

He likes that spot, I thought, leaning a little into his hold. He gave me a warm look in response.

“Goodnight, Stephan,” he said politely as he led me away.

“Goodnight,” Stephan called back.

I let us into my house, hurrying through my security code and the locks.

“Nice. I like your security,” James said behind me. I’d thought he would.

“I like to feel safe in my home,” I said lightly.

We walked in, and I headed straight to my bedroom, where I kept my flight bag when I was at home.

“I like your house,” James called out from the living room that doubled as my entryway. I re-joined him after stashing my bag.

I smiled, though it didn’t quite reach my eyes as I accepted his compliment. It probably seemed like a closet to him.

“It’s small, but it’s mine.”

He glanced back at the collection of watercolors I had arranged above my fireplace mantle.

“These are exquisite,” he said, studying the paintings intently.

“Thank you,” I said, flushing.

I hadn’t displayed my own paintings all over my house ever intending for someone like him to see them. The ones he studied were a collection of desert landscapes, focusing on colors. There were enough of them, and they were small enough, that I’d arranged them into a sun mosaic of sorts. The bulk of the paintings were of some of the mountains that surrounded the Vegas valley. I had exaggerated the colors, making them deeper and richer, almost a kaleidoscope. In others, I had painted close-ups of individual plants with the same rich colors.

“You did these?” he asked, sounding astonished.

I nodded, walking to the table by the couch to straighten some books that were messily strewn there. I hadn’t cleaned for company, though living by myself, I tended to keep things neat.

“I’m impressed. Do you have more?”

I shrugged. “It’s just a hobby. You’ll see my house is full of them. I know they’re amateurish, and simple, but it’s a cheap way to decorate my house. And painting is a good stress reliever for me.”

“I don’t think they’re amateurish. I think they’re enchanting.” His voice was quiet, and I wanted to believe him, but I told myself he was just buttering me up with lavish praise that he probably didn’t mean.

“Hmm thanks,” I said, uncomfortable. I didn’t want to like him any more than I already did.

“Can I see more?” he asked, smiling at me warmly.

“I’m beat,” I told him, hesitant to show him anything more. I was starting to wonder why I had accepted his spending the night here so readily. This was already starting to feel too strangely intimate for my liking.

He frowned. “Of course. I’m sorry. I can see them in the morning. Let’s get you to bed.”

I was already heading to my bedroom, undoing my tie as I went. I went to the closet, stripping off my work clothes and hanging them as I went.

I could feel James watching me from behind. He had seen everything already, but I still felt strangely embarrassed.

I ignored the feeling, stripping until I stood in my stockings. I undid my garter belt, slipping the stockings down carefully. I hated to snag them. They could be expensive if I didn’t treat them carefully.

James was still fully dressed, arms crossed, when I finished. He was just watching me.

I felt horribly awkward. Should I put something on for bed? Or was that silly? I unsnapped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I wore nothing but a black lace thong then, and I couldn’t read James’s steady gaze.

I brushed past him, not used to his passivity. It gave me the strange urge to goad him into action.

I removed my new watch and small stud earrings, placing them in a safe drawer in the vanity set up just outside of my bathroom. I washed my face, then moisturized.

He still just watched me intently.

I brushed my teeth and climbed into bed. I lay on my back, and he came to stand over me, still just staring. It was positively agitating.

I cupped my breasts, pinching the nipples. I watched his face for a reaction. He hissed in a breath. He pulled off his dark V-neck shirt in one smooth motion.

“What did you want to do to these?” I asked him, becoming almost rough with my breasts as I fondled myself.

“Fuck,” he cursed, undoing his pants. “Keep doing that.”

I did, and he had himself naked in record time. He climbed on top of me, straddling my rib cage, his erection huge and hard between my breasts. His hands went over mine roughly, and he pushed my breasts around his cock, thrusting between once, twice. I gasped. I hadn’t known that people even did this, but I was wildly turned on by it.

There isn’t an inch of my body that he doesn’t want to fuck. It was a heady thought.

He drew back, crawling down my body, and I protested.

“Quiet,” he told me, throwing my legs over his shoulders, and burying his face between my thighs. He started licking softly. He lifted his head after only a few strokes of his tongue, propping his face on my pelvis. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” I gasped.

He got back to work, licking every fold until I was gripping his hair and on the verge.

He spoke into my core. “Come,” he told me, stroking my clit with a talented finger. It was a gentle touch, but it was enough. I came, crying out hoarsely. He had my body tuned to his touch like an instrument. It was intoxicating, and alarming.

He rubbed his erection along my sex very carefully. He crawled back up my body, placing his now wet member back on my chest. He handled my breasts, his eyes inscrutable.

“I’m going to fuck every part of your body. No part of you will be left untouched by me.”

“All tonight?” I gasped.

He laughed, giving me a wicked grin. Capricious man.

“No. There’s no rush. I plan to take my time, violating every inch of you.” With that ominous pronouncement, he began to thrust steadily.

My eyes ran over his beautiful body while he moved, his muscles working extraordinarily. His abs flexed with each movement, his arms bulging as he held my breasts in position for his cock.

I didn’t know where to put my hands, so I ran them everywhere, drinking in his hard flesh with my fingertips.

“Look at me,” he told me when my eyes had wandered for too long.

“I love your body,” I told him.

He came on my chest, not even trying to contain the warm seed that coated my breasts in spurts. As he finished, he moved down lower to straddle my hips. He studied my wet breasts, then began to rub, coating my chest and ribs.

“Mmm,” he murmured, still rubbing. “Mine.”

It didn’t take long for the unfamiliar liquid to start to turn sticky.

“Don’t move. Time to clean you up.” He left and returned quickly with warm, wet washcloths, cleaning me thoroughly.

He must have found the small towels under my bathroom sink, I noted in a disconnected kind of way. He was making himself right at home, digging through my things without asking. I didn’t have the energy to care, and besides, his efficiency was too convenient not to appreciate in the moment.