Page 4 of Daddy, Take Me Away
Hamish stepped aside far enough to let the other pass into the aisle, where he stopped and did his best to look down his nose at Hamish. He was six inches too short to make that look work, and Hamish wasn't one to back down.
“If you ever threaten me again,” the man said, straightening his tie, “I'll have you hauled off this plane in handcuffs. You don't know who I am.”
“I know you're nae half as important as you'd like me to believe,” Hamish coldly replied, his accent deepening, darkening. “Otherwise you'd be in first class, nae coach.”
The male Karen's face flushed a deep, seething red. Surprisingly, he didn't keep protesting. But with a snap of his fingers, he signaled to a flight attendant already coming up the aisle to the back of the plane. Just as if she were heading right toward them.
“Miss,” the man demanded. “I need another seat. This one is too… hostile.”
“So I heard,” the attendant said, clipped and short. “No worries. I've already checked with the captain.” Blossoming into a sunny smile, the attendant bent to tap the overweight woman on the shoulder. “On behalf of British Airlines, we would like to apologize for this man's behavior. We'd also like to upgrade your ticket to first-class, for free, of course. Would you like to come with me, please?”
Chloe brushed Hamish's shoulder when she leaned out far enough to grin at the blushing woman seated on his right. “Oh, lucky you!”
The woman excitedly whispered back, “I've never flown before, much less in first class!”
Chloe softly squealed when the other woman did. “I'm so excited for you!”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” the male Karen exclaimed.
“Please take your seat, sir,” the attendant told him with a thoroughly disingenuous smile. “We're about to depart.” For the chubby woman, her genuine smile returned. “Can I help with your carry-on?”
The woman jumped up to grab her bag only to have the attendant take it from her. Flashing Chloe and then Hamish grateful smiles, she followed the attendant back to the head of the plane.
“How nice of them,” Chloe whispered to Hamish. “I'm so happy for her!”
She was too, Hamish realized. She settled back in her chair, smiling broadly even as she turned her lovely face toward the window.
His gaze roved her, taking in the soft curves of her face and her honey-blonde hair, that couldn't have been any longer than to her shoulders, pulled back into a ponytail that was more like a bunny-tail.
He quickly looked away, before the low throbbing in his stirring dick could add its own two cents to the conversation he already knew he shouldn't be having with himself. He glanced back over the top of their seats to see the Karen gaping after the flight attendant. Noticing Hamish staring, his mouth snapped shut before he threw himself into his seat.
“Bump her seat so much as one time,” Hamish whispered through the crack of his and Chloe's bucket seats, “and you won't believe how fast I come over the back of it.”
A slow smirk split the Karen's previously frowning mouth. “It'll be worth a black eye for the chance to send you to prison,” he promised.
“All right.” Lifting his hips, Hamish dug a heavy ring of keys out of his pocket and, without a word, pressed it into the palm of Chloe's hand. He ignored her wide-eyed stare and said, “My car is the silver Kia Sorento in long-term parking. Just press this button and when you get close, it'll chirp and flash its lights. This key,” he said, letting the fob drop to select a house key, “goes to the cabin. The security code is 8843. Got it?”
Whispering the code to herself, her brow buckled with uncertainty but she nodded.
He winked at her. “There’s a good lassie.”
She blinked, the apples of her cheeks pinkening, but otherwise she didn't react.
Turning back to glare at the Karen through the crack between their seats, Hamish softly said, “Ready when you are, laddy.”
The other man's smile vanished. Finally and with a loud harrumph, he flung himself against the seat back. Folding his arms across his chest, he glared out the window and, as far as Hamish knew, never looked his way again.
Fine with him.
Facing forward, Hamish didn't look at him either. Noting the flight attendants taking up their positions to give their pre-flight instructions, he settled into his chair.
“Seatbelts,” he said before he could catch himself.
Looking into her lap, Chloe immediately followed his lead.
His lead, he noted, not the attendants’ currently demonstrating how the seatbelts worked.
She glanced up at him, like any wide-eyed Little he'd ever taken under his authoritative wing.
