Naughty (12 page)

“I see you’re one of them control freaks.” He gave her another hard thrust. “But you ain’t controlling shit tonight!” He slapped her ass.

Mira flinched, not only at his touch, but also from his words. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone speaking to her harshly. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, being manhandled felt good, so she decided to go with his program. After all, he was the professional and she was going to let him do his job.

Once she submitted, he pushed his penis deep inside of her, fucking her with such force that he nearly bounced her off of his lap. “Is this what you want? To get fucked?” he asked between clinched teeth as he grabbed her waist and pressed her farther down onto his shaft.

He was penetrating Mira so deeply that she could barely talk. “Yeess,” was the only word that she was able to utter.

His random ramming became a succinct rhythm. Mira wrapped her arms around his neck and rode him like a prized steer. They fucked hard for what seemed like hours, when in actuality it was only minutes, but in those few minutes, Mira came harder than she had ever come in her life. She had to
admit, getting fucked by a man was much better than getting fucked with a strap-on. However she still enjoyed the softness of a woman’s lips on her pussy. When they finished, her V-spot was aching, and her thighs were sore—a sure sign of hard-core fornication. He had punished her pussy, and his assault was just what she needed to forget about her lost love.

“
YOU
’
RE QUIET
this trip.”

As usual, Monica had her finger on the pulse of Kennedy’s feelings. Kennedy was in a sulky mood because Nigel Charles was on board, focusing his attention on a stack of papers spread out on the pullout table in front of his seat, instead of focusing on her. Not that she expected him to bow at her feet, but it would’ve been nice if he took notice. He barely looked in her direction when she served him dinner. “I’m not in a talkative mood,” she responded, arranging the miniature bottles of port on the liquor shelf.

“You need to change your mood and mosey on over and talk to Mr. Man,” Monica said, referring to Nigel.

“Thank you, but no. I’m not interested in making a fool out of myself. He doesn’t even know I exist,” she sulked, sounding like a jilted ex-girlfriend.

Monica peeked her head out of the galley to see what Nigel was doing. “Maybe you’re right. He does seem to be preoccupied
with work,” she commented, noticing the menagerie of documents spread out before him. “He’s busy with paperwork
and
talking on the phone.”

“What could be so important that he has to waste money on an in-flight call? Those international rates are astronomical,” Kennedy added, secretly wishing that he was talking to her instead of whoever was on the other end of the line.

“He’s probably not paying for the call out of pocket anyway. I bet he’s some type of bigwig with a hefty expense account,” Monica surmised.

“I’m sure you’re right, even though he looks more like a model than a businessman,” Kennedy said, finally acknowledging his appearance. His wavy hair was cropped close and lined perfectly as if he had just gotten a fresh haircut. His eyes were tiny slits, with an Asian look to them, and his bronzy complexion was flawless. The one feature on his face that had her captivated was his luscious-looking lips. His bottom lip was fuller than the top one, and she could just picture herself sucking on it. Kennedy could feel her desire for him heating up. Even though she didn’t know Nigel, it didn’t stop her from wanting to fuck him. Kennedy’s sexuality had been awakened at an early age, and it just kept growing. Now, as an adult, she didn’t have a problem with expressing herself sexually, but she realized that acting on her every impulse wasn’t wise. Kennedy couldn’t help but think about the conversation she had with Naomi regarding finding the Black Door. The club would relieve her sexual tension, which she needed desperately, before she became impulsive and sexed up a stranger. Kennedy’s panties were getting moist at the thought, and she quickly changed the subject before she began drooling. “Anyway, enough about him, we need to start the turn-down service,” she said abruptly.

They were on an overnight flight from South Africa to New York, and had another twelve hours before touching down in
the Big Apple. Kennedy went through the cabin and took one last check before dimming the lights for the evening.

“Okay, we’ll continue this conversation once I get stateside,” Nigel said, finishing his call and putting the phone back in the cradle.

“Would you care for a nightcap, maybe a port or some brandy?” Kennedy offered, approaching his seat.

He looked up into her eyes and stared as if seeing her for the first time tonight, then said, “Excuse me?”

She was shocked into silence by his piercing stare, a stare that seemed to penetrate her soul. For a moment, Kennedy felt a cosmic connection with him, but quickly shook it off. It was probably the altitude—coupled with lust—that had her head swimming in the clouds. “Would you care for a nightcap?” she repeated.

“No, thank you, but I would like another pillow if you have one available.”

“Sure, no problem.” She walked to the utility closet in front of the plane and took out a small, square, down pillow. When she returned, he had his head turned toward the window with his eyes shut. Not wanting to disturb him, she tipped away and checked on the rest of the passengers.

Once everyone was tucked in for the night, Kennedy went back to her compartment and settled in with her book club selection of the month,
A Few Dollars and a Dream
, which was actually quite good; the main plot focused on an ex-con who was trying to finance his dream of opening a youth center. Because of the misdemeanors he had committed in his youth, banks wouldn’t give him the time of day. His only alternative to raise the money for the center was to do a “favor” for a local street pharmacist. All he had to do was drop off a “package” and he would get paid. He carefully weighed the pros and cons, then decided against his better judgment to make the drop. The first
delivery went as smooth as silk without incident, which led to a second and third drop, until he was back in the business fulltime, making more money in ten minutes than most people made in ten hours. Realizing that he didn’t want to land back in the clink, he decided to make one last delivery. But just when he thought he was home free, an attractive female undercover detective nabbed him after he completed the drop. After interrogating him and learning that he wasn’t the average drug dealer, but a man who was trying to keep kids from following in his tainted footsteps, she called in a few favors to keep him out of jail. Soon her attraction to the sexy ex-con heated up and they began a torrid affair.

“If she can find romance on the streets, why can’t I find it in the sky?” Kennedy mused, and turned off the light in her compartment for a little shut-eye. A full bladder and a few air pockets later, she was up and on her way to the lavatory. The two restrooms in first class were occupied, so she made her way back through coach. The cabin was quiet except for the soft sounds of sleeping passengers.

“I could’ve stayed in first,” she mumbled, looking at the red occupied signs on both lavatories. Kennedy crossed and recrossed her legs as she waited impatiently. Thinking that the restrooms in first were probably now available, she turned to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Kennedy swung around, and her mouth fell open as she stood there in shock like Bambi caught in the crosshairs. Standing in the doorway of the lavatory was Nigel Charles.

“Come here,” he whispered, crooking his finger back and forth, gesturing it toward her.

Kennedy looked around the cabin for prying eyes, but everyone seemed to be sound asleep. She took a step forward, and when she got within arm’s distance of Nigel, he pulled her into the lavatory and quickly closed the door. Standing there face-to-face inside the tiny confines of the restroom, she could feel heat
emanating from his body. Kennedy opened her mouth to speak, but the words were caught somewhere between her mind and her larynx. Their eyes seemed to say what their mouths could not. His eyes searched her face, as if memorizing every minute detail.

“What are you do . . . ” she attempted to say.

He put his finger to her lips before she could complete the sentence, then slowly removed his index finger and replaced it with his lips. He kissed Kennedy softly, introducing his lips to hers. Once the introduction was made, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him so close that their bodies seemed to mesh into one. Their tongues did a sensuous duet, moving to a silent, seductive rhythm, until she suddenly pulled back. Though she desired him, she didn’t want to jeopardize her job by making out in the bathroom. “What are you doing?” Kennedy asked, this time completing the question.

He took half a step back, but held firm to her waist. “I’m sorry. I know this must seem as if it’s coming out of the blue, but I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time. You’re so beautiful, and I just couldn’t help myself. Please forgive me if I’ve offended you.”

“I thought you were disinterested. You never seem to notice me,” she said, sounding slightly annoyed that he hadn’t said anything until now.

“Notice you?” He chuckled. “How could I miss you? You’re a knockout. I was smitten the very first time I saw your face.”

“You never said anything. As a matter of fact you never even looked twice in my direction.”

“Trust me, I looked,” he said, licking his lips. “You just never caught me staring.”

“Then why didn’t you say something before now?” She wanted to know.

He looked away for a moment, and then turned back to her. “To be honest, I’ve been burned in the past and I’m a little gun-shy.”

“Well, pulling me into the restroom surely wasn’t a shy move.”

He blushed and then said, “I apologize again if I offended you. I didn’t plan to pounce on you like that, but when the opportunity presented itself, I thought fate was telling me to take a chance, so I went for it.”

“I’m glad you did.” She blushed back.

He extended his hand. “I’m Nigel Charles,” he said, making a formal introduction.

“Kennedy Bryant.” She shook his hand.

“Well, Ms. Bryant, if it’s alright with you, I’d like to start from square one and take you out to dinner.”

“How do you know that I’m not married?” she teased.

“Well, I didn’t see any rings. And if you have a boyfriend, that’s just a minor detail that we’ll deal with later,” he said with an air of confidence.

She couldn’t help but laugh. This guy was so full of himself. Usually arrogance was a serious turnoff, but his cockiness oozed a certain sex appeal that she found attractive. “I guess I could say the same thing about your girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a wife, girlfriend, or significant other,” he said, looking directly into her eyes.

“Neither do I,” she admitted.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t have a wife or girlfriend, because you never know these days,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I’m as straight as they come. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not homophobic. It’s just that I like men too much to go to the other side.”

He smiled. “Good. Now that we’ve established our sexual preferences and availability, when can I take you to dinner?”

Kennedy couldn’t believe the sudden turn of events. Just a short while ago, she was living vicariously through a character in a novel, and now she was talking to the man of her desires. She reached into the pocket of her smock and took out a pen, then tore off a piece of paper towel and jotted down her home number.
“Call me.” She handed him the paper. She tried to turn around in the small space. “I need to get out of here and get back to work.” The need to use the bathroom had vanished for now, besides she couldn’t possibly go with Nigel in such close proximity.

He folded the number, put it in his pocket, and then stepped aside. As she squeezed past, he kissed the back of her neck.

Kennedy’s knees buckled as he nuzzled close behind. She could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her ass, and it felt good. For a scant moment, she thought about joining the Mile High Club, but it was too risky. Without turning around, she said, “Just so you know, I’m not into casual sex. Been there, done that, and frankly, I don’t like the empty feeling afterward.” She said it more for her benefit than for his. Kennedy needed to remind herself of her promise to wait and get to know a man before screwing him.

“Good, because I’m not a casual type of brother.”

“We’ll see.” She had dated men who agreed to refrain from having casual sex just to appease her, when in actuality they had no intention of waiting. She turned the latch on the door. “I think you should stay in here for a few seconds just in case one of my nosy coworkers is lurking about,” she said, referring to Monica.

“Okay. Talk to you soon, Kennedy,” he said softly.

He spoke her name with a familiarity that usually comes from years of togetherness. The sound of his voice was comforting and reassuring, a feeling that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe Nigel Charles was
The One
. For a minute, Kennedy was lost in the romantic fantasy of waltzing down the aisle to Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March”; then she snapped back to reality and thought,
Don’t call Vera Wang just yet. For all I know, he’s the one alright, the one that’ll break my heart
.

As she walked down the aisle, back to the lavatory up front, her thoughts returned to the Black Door again.
Instead of sleeping with Nigel on the first date, I’ll get my freak on at the club and still keep my promise. That is, if we can find the place
.

SETTLING INTO
her new environment was proving to be more of a challenge than Tyler had anticipated. Although she had only seen glimpses of Jacob, due to his hectic work schedule, it was good being around her big brother again, but his wife was another story altogether. Naomi had relegated Tyler to the servants’ quarters above the kitchen, which wasn’t necessarily a bad arrangement since the accommodations in their Tudor-style home were more than adequate. Exquisite Tiffany stained-glass windows were spaced above the oriels, and the baroque woodwork throughout the room was striking. The furnishings were a throwback to another era. An antique fainting couch upholstered in ecru raw silk sat angled in one corner; a rolltop desk sat in the opposite corner. A queen-sized, oak sleigh bed covered with an ivory French lace duvet with matching pillows was the focal point of the room. The only piece of furniture out of place was Tyler’s old rickety drafting table, which she placed in front of the bay window. The table obstructed the window seat, but giving up the quaint seating area was a small price to pay for a
great view while she worked. The window looked out onto the meticulously manicured back lawn complete with a rose garden and small reflecting pool.