The Pairing (The Proposition #3)(58)

“Yeah?” he asked casually.

“I don’t think I can do this.” She cut her eyes over to him. “I can’t land the plane. It’s too scary.”

“Yes, you can.”

Megan shook her head furiously back and forth. “No really. You need to take back the controls. I could cause us to crash.”

“But I have faith in you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you do this if I didn’t think you could.”

She stole a glance at him, taking in his earnest expression. God, he really and truly believed in her. And it wasn’t just about the fact they were banging each other every chance they got alone. No, he saw through to the real her.

After taking a deep breath, she felt herself slowly calming down. “Fine. I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.”

“That’s my girl,” Pesh replied.

“What should I do now?”

“All right, now you need to pull the throttle all the way out as well as pulling back on the wheel to keep the nose from dipping.”

Clearing her throat that felt as dry as sandpaper, Megan jerked on the throttle button before pulling on the steering wheel. It was a little harder considering how sweaty her hands were.

“Keep it steady. You’re doing great.”

As they came closer and closer to the runway, Megan fought the urge to close her eyes, but she realized that would not be the right thing to do. Instead, she braced herself for the impact. The moment the wheels hit the asphalt she shrieked and clutched at the steering wheel.

“Don’t fight the bounce. We’re fine. You’re fine.”

They skidded along the pavement. “Okay, now ease up on the wheel and push on the tops of both pedals to apply the brakes.”

Without thinking, Megan stomped her feet, causing the plane to screech. “Easy,” Pesh said.

She let her feet off the brakes, and they began to coast. “Now you’re going to bring it back into the hanger.”

“Oh, hell no! I would end up mowing out the side of the building or another plane!” Megan cried.

Pesh’s amused chuckle died quickly at the death glare she shot him. “Megan, you’ll do fine. You just landed a plane. I think you can handle pulling into a hanger.”

She scowled at him. “Fine. But when you have to file a huge insurance claim, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’”

“We’ll see,” he replied. She could tell he was fighting back a smile the way he kept biting down on his lip. “All right, take a right here,” he said, pointing to where the runaway split.

She turned the wheel to the right and began easing her foot down on the brake when she saw the hangers come into view. “Which one is yours?”

“I share the third one. Luckily for you, it’s pretty much a straight shot in. Just watch out for my dad’s plane.”

Megan jerked her horrified gaze over to his. “I could be taking out your dad’s plane?”

Pesh shook his head. “You’re not going to take out anyone’s plane, Megan. I have faith in you.”

She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. After taking a deep breath and giving herself a mental pep talk, she started slowly easing the plane inside the hanger. Even though she was far away from the back wall, she hit the brakes. “Is this okay?”

“Looks good to me. Now you want to pull on the red knob.”

“The one that says mixture?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. It will kill the engine.”

When Megan pulled on the knob, the plane shuddered into silence. She couldn’t help sitting absolutely frozen for a few moments, processing everything that had happened.

Pesh’s hand reached out to rub her shoulder. “You okay over there?” he asked.

Turning her head, she smiled. “I think so.”

“You were starting to worry me for a minute.”

“I think I was worrying myself.”

Pesh’s warm laugh made her tingle in parts it shouldn’t. With the adrenaline depleting from her system, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Or maybe the more appropriate word was who she wanted to do.

Frantically, she unbuttoned her seat belt and dove over into his lap. “Megan, what in the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

Her response to his question was to kiss him. Greedily her mouth devoured his lips. As her tongue thrust into his mouth, her hand went between them to cup his growing erection. He groaned while she worked him over his pants. When she rose up on her knees to get a better grip of him, she banged her head against the ceiling of the plane. “Shit!”

“Are you all right?” he asked, bringing his hands up to cup her now aching head.

“I’m fine.”

He snickered. “The last thing you need is a concussion. How would we explain that one?”

Megan giggled. “Maybe turbulence during the flight?”

“You’re the one creating turbulence,” he replied, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“How are we going to do this?” she asked.

“Backseat,” he replied.

With a nod, she began climbing over him into the small two seats in the back. As Pesh unbuckled his seat belt, Megan’s fingers furiously worked to get her jeans unzipped and unbuttoned. She was easing them down her thighs when his body came over hers. She once again claimed his mouth as Pesh worked to get his own pants down. “Pocket. Condom,” he murmured against her lips. She nodded and then reached her hand down to dig out the foil wrapper.