In Flight
This did nothing but pique my curiosity even more, of course.
“What on earth happened?”
He grimaced. “I walked in on Melissa in the cockpit last week. She was, um, she was giving the captain, Peter, um, oral pleasure.”
I gasped, a hand flying to my mouth. He just nodded with a disgusted look on his face.
“Where was the co-pilot?” I asked, not sure why that was the first question that popped into my head.
“He was just sitting there, looking uncomfortable. I think Melissa thought he’d be into it, but he sure wasn’t. And then, after she saw your watch, I overheard her talking to Brenda and Jake as I approached the back galley. She had the nerve to tell them that she was planning to write you up for accepting gifts from passengers. She had the gall to actually imply that James had been paying you for something that you did for him in the bathroom of the aircraft.”
My jaw literally dropped.
“That lying skank,” I said in disgust, reacting quickly with temper.
He held up a hand. “I handled it. First of all, I confronted her in front of the others, making sure they knew that she was a flat-out liar. They had no trouble seeing that she was just jealous of your watch. Brenda and Jake both know me better, and they trust me, so they easily took my word over hers. And then I made sure they all knew what I had caught Melissa doing in the cockpit. She at least had the decency to look embarrassed about it. I even spoke to the first officer, and he agreed to back me up if I needed to write a report about it. Melissa knows I won’t hesitate to get her fired if she tries to hurt you. She’s lucky I didn’t get her fired for trying to spread nasty rumors about you. I still get furious just thinking about it.”
I patted his hand comfortingly, mulling over the drama that had unfolded around me while I had just been going about my work, oblivious.
“She’s a piece of work,” I commented, then dropped the subject.
“James is so crazy about you,” Stephan murmured to me quietly.
He’s crazy, all right, I thought, but I didn’t comment.
I considered sharing every scandalous detail about our relationship with Stephan, but decided against it. It would dispel his strange notion of James falling for me like some romantic hero, but it would also make him unnecessarily sad.
James was waiting just outside the door as we walked out of the jet bridge as a crew, finally done for the night turned morning.
“Drive with me,” he ordered as he fell into step beside me.
I slowed until the others passed us.
“I can’t,” I said to him quietly. “We’re supposed to drive with the crew, and I need to go check into the hotel to reserve my room.”
He flushed, his pretty mouth curling as he reached to pull my luggage for me. “That’s all unnecessary, Bianca. For the love of God, just stay at my place.”
I set my mouth. “We’re not going over this again.”
He walked beside me in silence until we were nearly at our pick-up location.
“Fine. A driver will come pick you up at the hotel,” he said finally, handing me my bag.
“When?” I asked, but he was already striding away.
It was an entertaining bus ride, with Murphy at his most amusing. I wondered, as he was telling a funny story, if Melissa would try to go down on Damien with Murphy looking on in the flight deck this week. Or would she go down on both? I didn’t know how that sort of thing worked.
I was just discovering my own kinky nature in full, but taking on two men just seemed too sordid to me. No matter what kind of spell James seemed to have me under, I knew I could never be talked into something like that.
Murphy interrupted my scandalous thoughts by addressing me directly. “You can’t tell me you’re not gonna be sorry to miss out on us tonight! Admit it, you love us!” Murphy had adopted his atrocious mockery of an Australian accent as he spoke. He did so often, claiming that it if it worked for Damien, it could work for him. Damien always winced when he heard the butchering of his accent, which just made it funnier.
I smiled. “I made plans before I knew about yours, Murphy. Don’t take it so hard.”
“Just have James join us. If he has a romantic evening planned, just tell him to save it for another night!”
I thought of how he was going out that night without me. I briefly considered meeting up with them after that. I knew, from other nights we’d gone out with these pilots, that they would have no problem staying out late and then getting up early.
“Maybe I’ll swing by the bar later,” I conceded. “I’ll have to play it by ear.”
Murphy whooped as though he’d won a victory. I met Damien’s eyes, and he was smiling warmly. I felt a little uncomfortable, and couldn’t place why. We’d gone out with these pilots many times and there was usually never an uncomfortable moment.
Am I just worried about what James would think? The thought troubled me.
We reached the hotel and got our room keys in short order. Everyone was lingering in the lobby, chatting with the hotel staff. Murphy was convincing them to join up at the bar after work. It sounded like he was succeeding. Murphy was nearly as charming as Stephan, in his own silly way.
“Ms. Karlsson.” A quiet voice spoke behind me.
I turned in surprise. It wasn’t the usual way I was addressed. I was a little surprised to see Clark standing there, both in New York and in our hotel. I hadn’t realized that he traveled with James outside of Las Vegas..
“Hi, Clark. How are you?” I asked, smiling.
“Great, Ms. Karlsson. The car is out front. Please, allow me to take your bag.” He did so without waiting for an answer.
Stephan kissed me on the forehead. “Have fun, Buttercup. Call me if you need anything.”
I nodded absently, seeing the strange looks on the rest of our crew’s faces as I made a somewhat hasty departure. I gave them all a quick wave as I departed.
James could have told me that he meant right away. He probably hadn’t told me for a reason, thinking I would argue with him. He may have been onto something.
Clark had already loaded my luggage and had the door open for me when I caught up to him. He was very fast. I smiled at him as I ducked into the low town car.
Strong arms startled a yelp out of me as I was plucked immediately into the now familiar lap of James. He hugged me tight, burying his face in my neck, nuzzling.
“You love that spot, huh?” I asked him, referring to the neck he was kissing.
“Oh, yes,” he murmured against me. “I love all of your spots.”
I rolled my eyes. “We both need a nap,” I told him, wondering at his plans.
“We can nap after. I’m dying to show you some things. All of my self-control has deserted me. And to think, I used to be a man who believed in delayed gratification.”
I raised my brows at him. “Seriously?”
He laughed richly, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound.
“Yes, believe it or not. I can’t seem to help breaking all of my rules with you, Bianca.”
James’s apartment was a scant five minute drive from my hotel, but there was a world of difference in those blocks. We were passing swank high-rise buildings when James addressed Clark. “Go through the garage, please. I don’t wish to use the front entrance today.”
It made me stiffen a little. He was hiding me away. In spite of myself, I felt hurt. He was embarrassed to be seen with me, and I was getting too involved with him emotionally to just shrug it off for long.
He must go on some dates, I thought. He was just choosing not to do so with me. A flight attendant was hardly in his league. I just tried to add my hurt to the list of reasons why this was going to be a short, if intense, affair.
Clark drove us into an underground parking garage that looked typical of New York. James pulled me quickly from the car when Clark stopped in front of an elevator, not even waiting for Clark to open the door.
“I’ll see you out front at 9:45,” James told Clark briskly, pushing the elevator button impatiently.
Clark slipped back into the car and drove away without a word.
The elevator door opened and James pulled me inside the expensive looking cab, using a key to push the penthouse button.
Of course it was a penthouse, I thought.
“I have something for you,” James said. “I’m not sure you’re going to like it at first, but I want you to give it a chance.”
That sounded ominous, and I just blinked at him.
He grinned at me. “I know you’re new to the whole BDSM thing. New to all of it. And I’m not sure how fair it is that I’ve shown you things rather than explaining them to you, but I’m not sorry for any of it. Perhaps I owe you more of an explanation for some of it, and I will get to that. But I had something made for you. It has significance for me, and I want you to wear it.”
I just pursed my lips and looked at him. “Is it some kind of a piercing?” I asked him.
He laughed, pulling me against him. He fondled me. I tried to elbow him away.
“That’s not an answer,” I told him.
“No, it’s not a piercing, though I’m not done trying to talk you into that, either.” As he spoke, he kneaded my breasts.
“Well, I won’t agree to anything if you don’t tell me what I’m agreeing to.”
“I want you to be mine, Bianca. Will you be my submissive?” he whispered in my ear.
My heart stopped. I wasn’t exactly shocked by the submissive thing, but the formal way he asked it sounded almost like a romantic proposal on his lips.
“I don’t entirely understand what that means, James.”
“It means anything we want it to. What it means to me is that I want you to belong to me, and that you will submit to me, and trust me to dominate you how I need to.”
I had no idea how to respond to that, but I didn’t have to for a moment as the elevator opened and I was pulled swiftly into James’s sumptuous apartment.
It was a frivolously open space, considering the usual New York cramped living spaces. I could see that it had at least three stories just from the entryway.
He had chosen a clean, modern decorating style, with floors lined in a stark gray hardwood and glass walls interspersed throughout. Heavy vases and expensive looking artwork added most of the color to the mostly gray, neutral space. The splashes of color were vivid, brought out exquisitely against the lack of color, as though the floors and walls were meant to be the perfect frames.
“It’s lovely,” I told him as he pulled me through the opulent space without pausing. As we passed through room after room, I marveled at the size of the place.
“Do you like it?” he asked, still pulling me along. He was glancing into doorways as though he was looking for something.
“Yes. You have impeccable taste.”
He flashed me a grin. “Yes, I do,” he said, giving me the warmest look, and I blushed. “I’m glad you like it.”
He approached a large open dining room. It had a spectacular view of central park. He drew me to the window.
“Stay here,” he told me, walking through a closed door to my left. I heard him speaking to someone in the next room. Staff of some sort, I noted, from the snippet of conversation I could hear.