Charlie
When we arrive at Gatwick, I find out that we are flying to Aberdeen. Danny hasn’t told me where exactly we are going or what we will be doing.
Honestly, I would board a flight to hell if he asked me to.
The cold Aberdeen air hits my face and neck like needles the moment the plane doors open, and I curse my lack of preparation.
Besides a few jumpers and scarves, I mostly packed for a sexy weekend. This cold is not sexy. We flew business class on the two-hour flight, which was a complete waste of time as the only differences I could see were three inches more legroom and a complimentary bottle of water.
“I told you to dress for seven degrees,” he chides, watching me shiver.
“That’s very precise,” I mutter. “I’m not a meteorologist. Your instructions should have been to dress for arctic conditions where my bones will be replaced with ice.”
He takes my bag down from the overhead locker. “It’s going to get a lot worse.”
“How?” I stare aghast as I gather up my belongings from the plane seat.
“We have one more flight.” He grins down at me. “A short one.”
“We’re not staying in Scotland?”
“We are technically, but further north. The Shetland islands.”
I’m halfway to standing, and I stop in my tracks. Is he taking me home?
“That’s where you went to live with your grandmother when …” I trail off.
“When the brute killed my mum. Yes. My grandmother is still there.”
I suck in sharply.
“Don’t worry, our first dirty weekend away isn’t with my grandmother listening in the next room.” He grins. “We’re staying somewhere else.”
“Your grandmother will have nothing to listen to,” I grumble. “If you think you’re getting an inch of clothing off me in this cold, you have another thing coming.” I wrap my useless scarf around me as we disembark the plane.
***
“We are flying in this thing?” We are at the foot of the steps of a small private jet.
“This thing is one of the best small planes made today,” he says as he beckons me to ascend the steps. “It’s a twin-turbocharged aircraft that can go up to 280 knots.”
“You think I know how many knots we need?” I step onboard with the grace of a rhino wearing stilettos. The interior looks like a flying luxury city apartment with white leather seats and sexy lighting. I count eight seats, not including the cockpit.
“It’s just us?” I ask, twirling to face him. “Are we the only passengers?”
“Yes. It’s my plane.”
He opens the door to the cockpit, where a million lights, buttons, levers, and screens are flashing. I peer in. It’s my first time seeing a cockpit up close.
“Take a seat, co-pilot.”
“I get to sit beside the pilot? Cool!” I step inside, and he follows me into the compact space. “When are they arriving?”
Danny reaches up, lifts a pilot’s hat from the top shelf, and puts it on. “Oh, silly me, I forgot my uniform.”
“OK, very kinky, mister, but are we really going to play dress-up with the cabin crew right here?” I ask, confused. “I’m not joining the mile-high club on this. It’s a small plane, they’ll hear everything.”
“No mile-high club on this flight. I’m good at multitasking, but I can’t pleasure you and fly the plane at the same time.”
The corner of his lips tug into a grin as he watches my brain misfire.
“You are flying this thing?’ I draw in a stuttered gasp as I stare at the complicated dashboard. He better be joking. “How are you going to watch all these flashing lights by yourself?”
“Don’t you know I’ve got my pilot licence?”
“Are you … Can you … Is there another pilot with you?”
A laugh breaks from his chest. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“But aren’t there usually two pilots?” My voice increases two octaves.
“Only for commercial flights,” he says with a chuckle as he does a thumbs up to someone outside on the steps. “Relax, Charlie. I’ve flown hundreds of times, maybe over a thousand. I’ve been flying for over a decade.”
“But … what if you die?” I cry. “What if you have a heart attack in the air?”
“Don’t worry, this thing can fly itself. You can drive a shift car, can’t you? It’s very easy to pick up.”
“This isn’t funny, Danny.” I want to throttle him. “Do you have anything in your medical records I need to know about? When was the last time you had your heart checked? Eyes checked?”
“No illnesses in the family. Just murderers. We go through medicals to keep our license. I’m as robust as Superman.”
I’m entirely unconvinced.
“What if there is an engine failure?”
“It’s just a big computer. You work in I.T. Turn it off and on again.” He bites his lower lip, trying not to laugh.
“Ha, bloody ha. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“All clear, sir,” a guy shouts from the steps outside.
Danny nods at him. “Thank you.”
Then he twists the massive lever of the airplane door and bangs it shut.
I let out a weeping sound.
“It’s OK, sweetheart. I promise.”
He steps into the cockpit, guiding me into one of the seats with both hands.
When he leans over to attach my seatbelt, my breathing is so shallow I can’t speak. He yanks hard on it to ensure it is secure, then kisses me lightly on the lips.
I sit stiffly like a human doll watching the graphs, flashing lights and other gadgets do strange things.
“Is that bad?” I point to a flashing red light on my side of the panel as he flips buttons and switches.
Danny waves his hand at me dismissively, and I resist the urge to smack the man.
“Safety checks done.” He looks over, expecting me to be reassured. I’m not religious, but I’m quietly praying to Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the Holy Ghost, as he buckles himself in.
“Taxi to runway two-seven right via alpha two, bravo,” a voice booms out over the speaker. He talks back to someone in equal gibberish as I make whimpering noises in the corner.
Then we are moving. The plane slowly creeps forward and arrives at the start of a runway.
He flicks more buttons up and down when the deep voice announces, “Piper two-zero, cleared for take-off runway zero-one.”
“Cleared for take-off runway zero-one, Piper two-zero,” Danny repeats in a calm voice.
My hands grip the seat in a death grip as he accelerates at power down the runway, and I feel every bump like I’m on a bicycle cycling over a crowd of hedgehogs rather than sitting on a plane.
A strangled moan escapes from my throat, like a trapped animal dying slowly. He doesn’t hear it over the roar of the engine.
We tilt upwards and climb so steeply I feel like we are going to slip back down again.
My head shoots back against the seat, and I close my eyes. Sixty minutes, he said. Maybe I can ask him to knock me unconscious then wake me up when I get there. If I get there.
“You OK?”
I open one eye to peer at him. “Fine besides the raging panic attack.”
Then the roar stops, and we tilt back horizontal.
He looks at me, concerned. “I never realised you were so scared of flying. I’m sorry, Charlie.”
“I’m not,” I say through gritted teeth. “If I’m in a Boeing triple 7. In this thing, I feel like Mary bloody Poppins on a bicycle. Like we are just going to drop out of the sky at any time.”
The plane shakes, and I let out a deep-rooted scream making him flinch.
“It’s just a little turbulence. You feel it more on the smaller planes.”
“Sure.” I blow out through my cheeks.
I stare at him as he simultaneously monitors screens, checks gauges, and listens to air traffic control. It’s the sexiest yet most terrifying visual of my life. My life is literally in his hands.
I want this man so badly. I want him to be mine, only mine. If we make it to the ground alive, he is going to get the best sex of his life. Right now, airborne, I’m fucking furious that I was never consulted in this life-threatening expedition.
There’s another jolt, and the plane drops a little as we travel through thick clouds. Rain spills down in sheets against the windows. I can’t see anything out the window, so he must be flying this thing blind.
The muscles clench so hard in my stomach I think I’m going to throw up.
“Bag. Need bag.” I scramble to get my handbag from the floor, then take out the bottle of red wine in there. Thankfully it’s a screw cap.
“Sedation,” I explain as I take a large gulp from the bottle. “How do you have time to do all this?” I look at him in wonder. He’s as cool as if we were on cruise control down the motorway. “You’re a CEO, a cook, a pilot, a sex god. Seriously, Superman?”
His sharp gaze lands on me, and he chuckles. “Superman. Let’s keep that name. I’ve got at least a decade on you, remember?”
“That’s right, I keep forgetting I’m dating an old bloke,” I say as I put the wine bottle to my lips. The bottle is emptying rapidly, and I’ve thirty-five minutes to go.
We screech to a halt on the tarmac, and I breathe properly for the first time since we left the mainland.
“Not so fast,” he says in a sharp tone as I grapple with taking off my seat belt. “Safety first, I’ll tell you when you can unfasten your seatbelt.”
“Bossy.” I stare over at him as he slows the plane to a complete stop, trying to figure out if he sounds sexy or scary.
Maybe a bit of both.
“You,” I start as he leans over to undo my belt, “are the sexist pilot alive. But I’ve never hated you so much.”
I fling the belt off me and stand up on shaky legs.
“I said not so fast.”
His arm snakes around my waist as I step out of the cockpit, and I feel his warm breath on my cheek as he presses himself into my back. “You need to earn your plane ticket.”
“Yes, captain?” I whisper, tilting my face back to see him, my arousal going from zero to one hundred in seconds.
“Face the wall and take your clothes off.”
I pull my sweater over my top then follow with my tank top until I’m in a bra.
The sound of footsteps circles the plane outside. “Danny, there’s—”
“Ignore them,” he says gruffly as he unfastens my bra. Behind me, he grunts in appreciation and swipes a large hand over my left breast before he pinches the nipple.
“Everything needs to come off.”
I unbutton the top button of my jeans and shimmy the jeans down past my hips. I hear him unzip his jeans behind me.
I pull down my panties and step each leg out of them. As my ass arches backwards, he jolts me against him, and I feel his erection press hard against my buttocks.
He reaches a hand around my waist and slides a finger deep inside me. “Hands up against the wall.”
I place my hands on the wall, and he pushes them higher up with his right hand while his left-hand thrusts in and out of me.
I moan against the wall and jolt upwards as he pushes in deep.
“Spread your legs.”
People talk in hushed tones outside the airplane.
I move my legs apart, and my bare breasts push against the wall as he leans into me, stroking circular motions against my clit.
“Wider,” he commands, and I do as I’m told.
“You like people listening, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear. His hands circle my ass roughly then he boldly reaches one finger down there, circling my rim.
I inhale sharply. “Danny, I’ve never …”
“Soon, baby, not now,” he shushes me, moving his hand back to my hip. Without warning, he slams his length into me hard and aggressively, and I cry out.
With one hand, he holds my wrists on the wall above my head, so I can’t move them, and he uses the other to keep my hips tight against his erection, thrusting in and out of me, grunting.
The sound of my skin slapping against his grows louder and quicker. I cringe slightly at the thought of the people outside, waiting for us to open the doors.
“So good, Charlie.” He pounds faster until he loses control and unloads inside me, growling loudly.
I feel every drop as he fills me.
“You’re mine,” he whispers in my ear as he pulls out. Wetness drips down my inner thigh.
I collapse against the wall as there is a timid knock on the airplane door.
“Mr. Walker?” a bodiless voice asks. “Are you ready to disembark?”
