Page 1 of Fly Boy
Chapter One
October
“Your captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Please ensure they are fastened and your tray tables are stowed away. We’re about to experience some turbulence.”
My hips stutter, my momentum faltering as I stare up at the beautiful girl on top of me pretending to be a flight attendant. Throwing her head back, her long blonde hair tumbles around her as she releases a loud moan.
“Make the contents of my cabin shift around, Captain Grant.” She drags her hands up her stomach, stopping when she reaches her tits, playing with her nipples, and her eyelids flutter.Fingers digging into her thighs, my body tingles with sweat and embarrassment as she continues to ride me like I’m her personal joystick.
“More thrust,” Rebecca groans. Leaning forward, her hands land on my chest as she bounces harder with an added twisted motion. “We need more thrust.”
“What?” I grunt out, my eyebrows knitting together, well and truly confused.
She blinks, giving me anisn’t it obvious?look before panting, “Get on top, Captain.”
Right. Could she not have just said that?
Flipping her over, she gasps as I push back inside, the angle different and hitting her exactly where I need to finish this off. Never again am I telling a woman my occupation. It used to be funny—a cheeky pilot innuendo here and there—but when you’ve heard one, you’ve heard them all.
“You are cleared for landing,” she cries, her back bowing off the bed, hands fisting the sheet. My molars ache as I grind them together, my dick vehemently trying to ignore her euphemisms.
Quickening my pace, I piston my hips like I’m a damn machine. I lift a hand to grip the headboard, bracing myself as I pump harder, the frame banging against the back wall in time with my movements and her never-ending wails.
“Captain, captain,caaaaaptain.”
She slaps a hand to my pec as she comes. Incoherent screams and moans fill my room, loud and echoing like she’s trying to wake up my neighbors.
It’s nearly five in the morning, for fuck’s sake.
With one more thrust, the whole ordeal is over, and I finish with a snarl, filling the condom with my release, some of my dignity joining it. Leaning my damp forehead on my outstretched arm, my eyes fall shut as I catch my breath.Delicate fingers trail up and down my sides, the sensation soft, soothing, sweet.
“You’re a very bad man, Captain Grant. If anyone were to find out, you’d be in trouble.”
“What?” I snap, rearing back, my body instantly hit with a cold wash of fear.
Rebecca smiles as her hand falls away and drops to my mattress. “I said that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
I stare down at the woman in my bed, someone so vastly different from the one whose voice just flooded my mind.
“Next time, I want to pretend I’m the naughty air hostess, and you’re fucking me in the cockpit.”
In your dreams, sweetheart. It’s not like there’s enough space for me to even do that. Certainly, the plane I fly isn’t big enough. It would be awkward and sore, and one of us would get a cramp… And why am I getting hung up on the semantics of a fictitious scenario when my heart is beating so fast that, at my age, I could worry about it being a sign of a heart condition?
I swallow, brushing off her inaccurate fantasy. But the voice still echoing inside my mind is harder to ignore. It was too lifelike, too real, likesheis the one here with me, not Rebecca.
But it’s just a reprimand coming from my guilty conscience, mutating and morphing to sound exactly like the girl I shouldn’t be thinking of, designed to drive me insane.
“Sure, whatever.”
Sliding out of her body and off my bed, I make my way to the bathroom to discard the used condom and get ready for work.
Next timewon’t be happening.
This timewas a mistake, too.
Reaching into the shower, I turn on the faucet, letting the water warm up for a minute before stepping inside. Heat rains down my head and over my body, the scalding realization that I no longer want to do this just as potent as the water.
Sex used to be fun. Sex used to be sweaty and hot and downright dirty, my partner for the night coming more times than I could count, leaving my home satisfied and sated and sore in all the right ways. Only now, I’m left feeling dirty and unsatisfied, each time spent with a different woman ending the same way—her walking like a cowboy and me hating myself more and more.
