Page 52 of Come Fly with Me

“Where are you heading on your next route?” I ask, trying to diffuse the steaminess of the situation, but I slide my foot farther up until it’s rubbing between his legs.

He sucks in a hard breath, his words a clipped warning. “Taylor.” He grabs hold of my foot, stilling it, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my heel. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me. Seeing your tits, you rubbing my dick, it’s torture.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing because you’re doing the same thing to me.”

“We can end this anytime you want, and I don’t mean walking away from you.”

“Play your cards right tonight, Campbell.” I wink at him as he loosens his grip on my foot, and our waiter walks up.

We place our orders, and the tension in the room dissipates, cooling off with the night breeze and the stillness of the air between us. We return to the original conversation, but it’s not without its witty comments and flirty side remarks.

“So, you going to answer my original question?” Jake asks, a sly smile on his face.

“I can, as long as you can keep your mind out of the gutter.”

“The only thing cluttering up my mind right now is the image of your perfect tits, so start talking work because I need a distraction.

I bend forward, my elbows on the table, as I push my breasts up, flashing him even more cleavage.

“I fly back to L.A. tomorrow, but you know that.” I shift a little, my breasts moving with me, and Jake’s eyes are glued to mine, but I can tell it’s killing him. His lips are parted, and his breaths are coming in short waves, and when I lean back in my chair, my arms brush my nipples, hardening them and pressing them against the fitted fabric of my dress. There’s no way he misses the outline of them, and I wet my lips, letting my teeth rake over my bottom lip as I continue. “Then I head up to Vancouver and from Vancouver to Minneapolis.” I stretch my arms above my head, arching my back a little, pushing my chest out as I wiggle in my chair slightly. “From there, I fly to Chicago and then back to L.A.”

“You going to visit your family while you’re in Minneapolis?” he asks, his words strained as he takes in a ragged breath. The conversation might be normal, but what is swirling in our thoughts is far from it.

“I will, but I’m only there for about ten hours. What about your routes?”

Jake again takes in a hard breath and swallows. “It’s a little warm in here,” he says, and I nod my head. “You agree? Because from where I’m sitting, you look to be a little cold.” His eyes fall to my breasts and my rounded, pebbled nipples. “Fuck…”

“Or maybe I’m just turned on?”

“By?”

“Talking about our flying routes, Jake. It’s so hot.”

The waiter drops off our food with little disruption to what is continuing to happen between us, and I swear I eat faster than I ever have in my life. Jake tosses a hand up, signaling our waiter as we put the last bite in our mouths.

We hit the bustling streets of Waikiki, my hand in Jake’s as we walk, both of us moving quickly but with no real idea of where we’re going. It’s going to take well over an hour to get back to our hotel, and with the tension that’s been sparking between us all day, I’m not certain we’re going to make it.

The streets are crowded, and my shoulder bumps someone walking by, forcing me to turn so I’m pressed into Jake’s side and that’s when I notice a small alleyway lined with dozens of brightly colored surfboards. Tugging his hand, I pull him over and away from the crowds, my back against the hard fiberglass as his body crashes into mine. His mouth assaults mine, our teeth clashing, and our tongues restless and needy. Jake kisses and sucks and bites his way down my neck as I tangle my fingers in his hair.

There’s something so insanely hot about making out in public as the droves of people walk by blissfully unaware of us tucked into this little slice of anonymity on Waikiki. My senses are in overload as Jake makes his way down to my breast, his mouth biting and sucking at my nipple through my dress.

“Fuck, Taylor,” he groans, his hard-on pressing into me. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

“And I’m not wearing any panties either.”

His hand slides up my thigh, but before he can check for himself, we’re interrupted by a group of laughing teenagers coming from the opposite direction as they stop and take some pictures with the surfboards.

“This way,” I murmur, my mouth next to Jake’s ear as I once again pull him in another direction. This time we’re walking back the way we came, our pace clipped.

“I think we should call an Uber,” Jake says, and I shake my head and walk straight for the nearest hotel.

The entrance to the hotel is packed with people, and while Waikiki is full of hotels, this beauty is the first one we come across. A stunning high-rise with unobstructed views of Diamond Head and Waikiki Beach, and balconies gracing all sides.

There’s no way this place has a room judging by the amount of people gathered in the lobby, but right now I’m fucking desperate to get in Jake’s pants, and that ride back to the North Shore could cool this whole thing down really fast.

Luckily for us the majority of people have already checked in and are just loitering in the stunning lobby. The attendant calls us up and we both move without preamble, and I’m already digging in my purse for my credit card.

“Checking in?” she asks, her smile warm and inviting, and I almost laugh out loud. This woman has no idea that we’re just here to fuck in her fancy hotel room.

---