In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(41)

I asked him.

“Yes,” he bit out. “But I’m not going to jerk myself off. I’m saving it all for you. I’ll wait, even if you’re out of commission for a few days. Stop touching yourself now. You’re such a hair trigger, and I don’t want you coming until you see me again.”

I complied, making a little sound of protest in my throat.

“I need to keep my c**k out of you for a few days while you heal up, but there are plenty of other things we can still do. I’ll eat you out until you beg me to stop. And I have this fantasy about coming between your lovely tits. You won’t be sorry that I insisted on coming to your house tonight, I promise.”

I made a little noise in my throat. Whether it was a sound of agreement or frustration, I couldn’t say.

“What day do you fly back to New York?” he asked after my breathing had calmed. He sounded as though we’d been talking about nothing particularly personal just moments before.

Mercurial son of a bitch, I thought.

“Thursday night. I have three days off after today, but I need to pick up at least one more shift like the one we’re working today, probably on Wednesday.”

He made a sound of disapproval, but just said. “So you have two days off after today?”

“Yeah. When do you head back to New York?”

“Thursday night.”

“Oh.” I was surprised. “On my flight?”

“Yes. The redeye, correct?”

“Yeah, same as last week. How long can you keep doing that?” I asked, referring to his recent habit of following me around the country.

“Well, I have good people working for me, so I should be able to get away with it for a time. I can work wonders with just a phone and a computer nowadays. There are a few perks to being the boss. And desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Desperate times?” I questioned.

“Oh, yes. You make me absolutely desperate, Bianca. I had never stalked a woman before I met you. I’m carrying a sliced up pair of your panties in my pocket right now.”

I was afraid to even ask him about that.

I heard voices, and glanced between the curtains. The crew had returned, toting bags of food and coffee.

“The crew is back,” I told him, readjusting my skirt and then the curtain to how it had been. “I probably need to go.”

He made a frustrated sound in my ear. “Call me when you get back in Vegas,” he told me. He cursed. “The waiting will make me crazy.”

“Bye,” I said, hanging up quickly as Brenda approached the aft galley. She looked surprised to see me there.

I held up my phone. “Just taking a call. I have a tendency to pace while I talk on the phone.”

She smiled. “I do that too. You might still have time to go grab something in the airport, if you hurry. They’re estimating an hour and a half delay now.”

I groaned.

She sat in her jump seat, pulling a sandwich out of a paper bag. She waved the sandwich. “This place is good. It’s right across from the gate.”

I nodded a thanks, and started towards the front of the plane.

My phone beeped a texting noise at me. I looked at the screen. I sat down in one of the main cabin seats to read.

James: Hanging up on me will earn you a punishment as well.

Bianca: Sorry. Instinctive reaction to seeing coworkers in the middle of a kinky conversation. Are you going to punish me tonight, then?

James: No. You’re off the hook until I’m sure that you’ve recovered from all of the hard f**king we did last night. Did you like the crop?

Bianca: I’m partial to the crop. How many lashes will I get for hanging up on you?

James: 10.

Bianca: I love the crop, but I want you to use what you want on me. I want to please you.

James: You do. Don’t doubt it. And I will use what I want on you. I can’t wait to get you into my New York apartment. I have a playground for us there.

Bianca: Your bedroom in Vegas seemed like a playground

James: It was just a taste, Buttercup.

I didn’t know what to say after that, so I put my phone in the pocket of my vest, heading back to the front of the plane.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Mr. Possessive

When all was said and done, we didn’t leave DC until we had well over a three hour delay on our hands.

Eventually, Stephan and I did get off of the plane briefly to grab ourselves a sandwich and a cup of good coffee. The plane coffee was drinkable, but only if nothing better was available.

I saw the man from 1A still hanging out near our gate. I nodded at him politely, but thought it odd that he was still there. We were delayed, but he was already at his destination.

What was he doing, still hanging out at the gate hours after we’d arrived?

He was speaking to another man who was near to a carbon copy of himself. They were roughly the same size, both with dark hair, and even wearing similar suits and ties. They reminded me so much of law enforcement that I nudged Stephan with my elbow.

“We getting air marshals on the flight?”

He followed my gaze, sizing up the large men. He shook his head.

“If we are, I haven’t been informed of it yet. And with the delay, I can’t imagine I wouldn’t know by now. They sure do look like FAMs, though. Probably just traveling FBI agents or something.”