Page 23 of Sinful Desires

“I can’t quite tell.” She craned her neck, looking through the window on her side in search of the dark green roof.

“Let me help you.” I banked right, making her squeal again as the plane tilted on her side. “Can you see it now?” I chuckled over her panicked gasps for breath.

“Don’t do that!” she barked. “Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Not quite yet.”

She took a beat before muttering, “What does that mean?”

I leveled the plane again before flipping a switch, opening power to the yoke on her side of the cockpit. “I am saying you are going to fly the plane now.”

“Fuck off.”

I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at her deadpan response. “I’m bloody well serious. Go ahead. Take hold of the yoke.”

“You’re out of your mind.” She folded her arms, tucking her hands close to her ribs. “I won’t. I don’t have the first idea what to do.”

“I am right here. I won’t let you kill us.”

“Oh, thanks,” she groaned out. “What a great choice of words.”

“Quit stalling and take the yoke in your hands. I’ll tell you what to do.” Clearly, I would be in control of the plane at all times. She wouldn’t have to do much and would certainly not touch any of the instruments. Still, I could imagine it being overwhelming.

“I really hate you for this.” At the same time, she reached for the yoke in front of her, closing her fingers around the grips. “Oh, man. Oh, shit.”

“That’s right. Get it all out.” I released the yoke, spreading my fingers, and she squealed again.

“Shit, fuck,” she whispered, sitting as stiff as a board, fully upright, her frame rigid. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Try to relax,” I suggested.

“Try to shut the hell up or take the yoke back. Either way.”

“Have fun with it,” I urged. “Pull back a little bit on the yoke. We want to climb a few thousand feet. See it here, on the altimeter?” I pointed out the dial. “Easy does it. A little at a time.”

“Okay. I can do this,” she whispered, flexing her fingers and easing back on the yoke. Her strained whimper went up in pitch, her eyes darting back and forth between the altimeter and the mountains in front of us.

“You’re doing it. You’re doing fine,” I called out. “Level it now. Keep us straight and level.”

She yelped when we leveled out, then released a shaky breath. “I did it! Oh, my God, I think I’m going to pee my pants.”

“Please don’t.” I laughed. “Unless you feel like replacing the seat. Now, we want to turn to the left. Ease into it. We will bank, so take your time and don’t freak yourself out.”

Perhaps it should’ve come as a surprise that she took so well to flying. There was much more to learn, but already she grew comfortable with the yoke, guiding the plane without any more squealing or cursing me. Instead, she smiled and laughed as if in disbelief. It reminded me of her joy after her first ride on my Harley. We shared a love of the sort of excitement many so-called ordinary people were afraid of. She was entirely different than what I’d imagined, leaving me caught between uncertainty at my beliefs being challenged and admiration of her courage.

However, a love of excitement went only so far. When I offered to take over, her head bobbed enthusiastically. “Yes, please. Jesus, that was…”

“Better than sex?” I suggested.

For once, she didn’t bother pulling a sanctimonious act. Her laughter filled the cockpit before she shrugged. “Now that you mention it, yes.”

I brought the plane around, the airstrip up ahead. “If that’s the case…” I quietly observed, “… you haven’t had the right partner.”

“No comment.” A glance her way from the corner of my eye revealed her flushed cheeks. I had the feeling it wasn’t entirely the effect of controlling a plane for the first time.

“I would be happy to bring you out again sometime,” I sincerely offered. “You’ll be a pilot in no time. Next flight, I’ll guide you through a barrel roll.”

“I had no idea you were so desperate to watch me throw up,” she pointed out in a shaky voice that made me laugh as I brought the plane down.

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