Exposing the Bad Boy (12 page)

And even though she wasn't talking to me... I had every intention to show her exactly how she could help me.

Next time, nothing was going to interrupt us.

I'd make sure of that.

Ellie

––––––––

S
ettling into the airplane seat, I checked my phone. It was out of habit, at this point; a nervous tick brought on by the fact I was about to take a fifteen hour flight across the ocean with a man who'd nearly fucked me in my own office.

Blushing, I glanced down the aisle, catching a glimpse of Pike. He was hovering near our entrance to first class, chatting with a flight attendant. I didn't know what he was doing, just that the woman had a polite smile as she listened.

When he started back my way, I opened a magazine, acting nonchalant. The cushion nearest the aisle squeaked as he dropped into it. “Fancy up here,” he said. “I've never flown first class before.”

Shutting the magazine, I stuffed it into the seat-back. “Until working for Maximal, I didn't fly much at all.”

“Oh yeah?” His tiny smile was blatantly curious. “More of a road trip person?”

“My mom was scared of flying.” A shadow fell over us, so I shut myself up.

The flight attendant bent close, her hair tied into a prim knot. On a small tray, she handed Pike a glass of something amber colored, as well as small bottle. “Your Angel's Envy, sir.”

He took both items, wearing a winning smile. “Thanks so much, doll.”

She beamed proudly, then wandered off to help the next person who was waving for her attention.

Squinting, I observed Pike as he took a deep swig of his drink. “What the heck is Angel's Envy?”

“It's bourbon.” He took another slow sip. “
Expensive
bourbon.”

“Nice not having to foot the bill, huh?” I asked, chuckling.

Downing the whole glass, he filled it again from the small bottle she'd handed over. “Isn't this what flying in style is all about?”

He looked so comfortable. It was easing my nerves. “I've probably used that line before, so sure. Enjoy the perks of Maximal, Mr. Style.”

Pike gave me a look. The edges of his eyes were strained. It threw me off, but he hid it behind another long swallow of bourbon. “You said your mom was scared of flying. Why?”

Fidgeting in the chair, I crossed my legs. “When I was still a baby, we were in a minor plane crash.” His eyes went wide; I waved at him quickly. “Nothing major. Just a little landing issue, no one was badly hurt. But it... well, it left a pretty big scar in her. I was too small to even remember it.”

But I did remember the aftermath. My mother had been a hard woman, strict and unbreakable. However, when it came to heights, she got a wild, feral look in her face that I'd never seen before.

“Guess her habits didn't carry over,” he said softly.

My attention went to him, eyebrows lifting up. “They did, though. I was incredibly terrified my first few times flying, and even now... it's a struggle.”

“I was thinking more about the other day.”

Flushing, I folded my hands in my lap. “You think I wasn't scared when I jumped out of that plane with you?”

Swirling his drink, he pursed his lips. “No. I
knew
you were scared. You still did it, though. That's my point. You managed to shake her issues off, even if she tried to infect you with them.”

Stunned, I felt my eyes drying out; I couldn't blink. “Wait, how did you know she tried to make me just as paranoid as she was?” The number of times my mother had warned me that planes were death traps couldn't be counted.

He shrugged lightly. “I think most parents do that. Sins of the father, etcetera. We learn from them, even if they don't mean to push their issues on us.”

My palms clutched tighter. What he was saying was true; I'd carried the ghosts of my mother's worries with me all my life. My determination to not let them affect who I was, or what I did, had been a constant challenge.

I wasn't entirely free of it. Part of me thought everyone felt the way I did, deep down. That we all just pretended not to be so scared. Who could be so calm when they had no control over their fate?

But, the first time I'd watched Pike dive towards the ground in that grainy video... I'd known what bravery was.

And I'd wanted it.

“Wise words,” I mused.

He made a throaty sound, finishing his bourbon. The timing was perfect; the intercom crackling as the captain announced we'd be taking off soon. A new flight attendant came by, gathering Pike's trash.

Clipping my seat belt, I willed the knots in my stomach away. After all, I'd jumped into the bare sky itself. What was a takeoff, now, in comparison?

“You know,” he said suddenly, not looking my way. “My mom was scared of heights, too.”

“What, really?”

Still not watching me, he stared down the aisle, seeing nothing. “Not for herself. For me and my dad. She didn't like what we did.”

I wanted to ask more—so much more. The roar of the engines, the hum of the compartment, ended the conversation. The whole plane jittered, rolling down the landing strip. There was a pause, that expectant moment before the whole thing would shoot off at rampaging speed, ripping us free of the asphalt.

Calm down. Calm down.

Pike squeezed my hand. A spasm went through me, attention shooting down to that warm touch. He'd linked his fingers over mine in my lap. It felt... good.

Too good.

I glanced at him, witnessed his calm blue irises. “It's okay,” he said firmly.

Just like when we fell together, a comet swimming towards the Earth, I believed him. I'd learned something that day, when he'd calmed me down with a simple hug; Pike was stability made real.

As long as I was with him...

Fear could never touch me again.

For the first time, as the plane carried us into the atmosphere, I didn't close my eyes and pray.

****

I
yawned, stirring in my reclined seat. The chairs in first class were plush, the blankets thick and perfect when combined with the air conditioning.

Did I drift off?
Rubbing my eyes, I stared around blearily. The cabin was dark—it had to be past midnight, according to my circadian rhythm.

Time zone changes always messed with me.

“Hey,” Pike whispered.

Rolling over, we came face to face. My heart flexed, and he enjoyed my surprise. Winking, he said, “You fell asleep. Guess you were tired.”

I stretched my arms over my head, yawning again. “That, or you were just super boring company.”

Mischief sparkled deep in the pits of his eyes. “Is that a challenge? Because I know a few ways to fix boredom, Miss Cutter.”

Snorting, I worked on fixing my bed-head. “Like what?”

“Like joining the Mile High Club.”

Snapping wide-eyed disbelief his way, I did a paranoid scan of the cabin. Most people were sleeping, as far as I could see.
Good, no one heard him.
“Pike, come on. We'd get caught and probably fined a bunch of money. That stuff only happens in movies.”

His laugh had a thickness to it that made my blood race. “Fair point. Then here, a safer idea.” Adjusting his blanket, he threw it over mine, inching closer. Beneath the material, I sensed his body heat. “You could always finish what you started in your office. No one would notice.”

Even though I blushed, my thighs squeezed together helplessly. He wanted a
handjob?
Pike was too blunt, but his forwardness drove hard spikes of desire so deep into my bones, I couldn't shake them free.

Swallowing loudly, I said, “Sorry cowboy, you're just going to have to leave your tray table in its upright position.”

He laughed hard, sending looks our way. I sank deeper in my blanket. “Now I'm a cowboy. I think our nicknames have gotten out of control.”

“You started it,” I mumbled, but I was grinning, too.

Something brushed my leg under the blankets. I turned into a statue, shaking my head slowly at Pike in warning. Pure wickedness came off of him in waves. “You may not be confident in your slyness, Ellie. But I am. Just don't let anyone hear your sweet moans.”

“Pike!” I hissed.

His fingers wandered further, knowing where to go without the gift of sight. I was wearing a comfortable cotton dress, and now, I regretted the access it gave him.

His hand was strong, gliding my hem up and tracing my hip. Breathing through my nose, I looked around again. To the rest of the world, we didn't exist. I didn't understand that. How could we be invisible, when I felt like my body was a pure ball of fire, ready to set the entire plane ablaze?

He found the edge of my panties, followed the curve over my leg and back again. Taking his time, his face didn't reflect the same turmoil I was enduring. He was calm, if deceptively so. The flecks of silver in his gaze were molten.

My pursuer was in no rush, his gentle probing transforming my paranoia into something far more delightful. Ripples of lust swam from my toes and beyond, speeding up my awareness.

The shapes he made over the front of my panties were varied. Circles first, then curls, until I thought he was spelling something—his name, or mine? The only thing I knew for sure—and with growing frustration—was that he was avoiding my pussy.

Pike would sway near it, occasionally outlining the indents of my inner thighs. Once or twice, he ran two fingers over my lower lips, making me cover my mouth as I cooed. But the bastard never went for my clit, not even as I started rocking my hips towards him.

“Stay still,” he warned in a deep voice. “If you move, people will know what we're doing.”

Chewing my lip, I glared at him. “Quit teasing me, Pike.”

“How am I teasing you?” He didn't ask it like it was a question. And it wasn't; we both knew he was aware of his actions. Not touching my clit was no accident.

When I said nothing, he just smirked wider.

Again, he pet over the cloth. It was saturated now, and his abrupt dip—low, between my legs—made it starkly clear. Whimpering, I closed my eyes, riding the brief spark of pleasure. The ache was painful, my existence swollen and tight.

Out of the blue, he rolled a thumb over my engorged clit.

“Ah,” I gasped, biting my tongue.

The way he breathed out, I knew he was torturing himself, too.

Good. Let him experience some of this damnation,
I told myself.

Studying my face, he traced my cunt up and down. Fingers slid over the swell of my panties, then scooted the elastic aside to reach my bare skin. My slickness made it easy for him to penetrate deeply.

Clenching my jaw, I trembled in the chair. He pumped his hand, thumb massaging my clit to his own rhythm. He fingered me better than anyone ever had—fuck, maybe better than I even did it to myself.

Low in my belly, the tension of my growing release began. It was a giant wave, ready to crush the both of us. I'd let it strip me to the bone if it came with the climax I was begging for. My pussy clenched at his fingers, my own palm barely muting my sounds. He didn't slow down, his cruelty had vanished.

Curling his fingers, pressing into the roof of my cunt, Pike made me see stars. Ecstasy exploded within my core as I finally lost control. Somehow he sank in further, stretching me through my convulsions.

The orgasm left me dazed, vibrating around his fingers while I went limp.

He didn't slide free for some time. Instead he held still, riding out my aftershocks. It was as if Pike wanted to experience every second of me. In that moment, I existed just for him.

I shivered as his hand left me, the emptiness unsettling. Looking over, I caught him wiping himself clean with a napkin. The only proof of our sordid affair was between my thighs; ruining my panties.

Counting my heartbeats, I gathered myself. He watched me do it, all mystery once more. “Good?” he asked gently.

Under the blanket, I adjusted my underwear and dress. “I—yeah. I needed that.”

“That's two rain checks.” His voice was pure liquid sex.

After that, we flew in relative silence. It wasn't uncomfortable; if anything, I was more relaxed. Much of my stress had been freed, though I suspected Pike's was on the brink of rebelling.

Rain checks,
I thought with amusement.
Does he really plan to collect on those?
What would happen if I backed off from Pike, if I told him no more, that we had to stop?

The idea of him demanding payment had my lower belly singing again.

****

O
ur landing was smooth.

Outside, the sunset had already vanished. We'd landed late, past seven in the evening. The jet-lag would wreck me if I didn't get some real sleep soon. However, it was only eight in the morning back in LA.

My schedule is going to be fucked.

“Guess it begins,” Pike said, standing and cracking his back.

Gathering my bag from the overhead, I followed suit. “Sort of. We'll head to the hotel, but there won't be any jumping tonight. The crew will want to walk you through everything ahead of time. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Pike walked down the aisle, smiling at the flight attendant as we passed. “They don't need to walk me through how to do a base jump.”

“Not really that, no,” I agreed. In the terminal, we passed the baggage claim. There were already Maximal employees gathered there, their shirts displaying the logo. They'd handle getting all the luggage to our hotel and rooms. “The commercial crew will want to show you the shot layout. You know, like where to run, which direction the cameras will be, the timing... all that stuff.”

Pike frowned, hoisting his backpack higher. Even wearing rumpled clothes and looking exhausted, he managed an aura of sexiness. “Sounds complicated.”

“It's not so bad.” Shoving through the doors and into the loud outside world, I winced; it was sticky and hot. “You'll do fine. Trust me.”

As I scanned for our car, Pike was quiet. It wasn't until I spotted the man holding the name 'Moss' on a piece of paper, waving Pike to follow me, that he spoke again. “What will I be selling?”

“Huh?”

“The commercial,” he said, following me into the shiny black car. “What's it for?”