Stepbrother With Benefits 18 (Third Season) (13 page)

E
verything's all set
. Everyone is packed and ready to go. Now we just have to wait for our ride to the airport. Caleb's friends brought up the pizza they ordered, which is a nice distraction. I eat a little while cuddling with Ethan. Everyone is excited and talking about the trip.

"Do we have assigned seats or anything?" Caleb asks Ethan.

"Caleb, it's a fucking private plane," Ethan says. "We're going to be the only ones on it, except for the flight crew. You can sit wherever you want."

"It's got cool stuff on it, right?" Jefferson asks.

"Uh, sure?" Ethan says. "Doesn't every plane have cool stuff on it? It's an airplane. They fly in the air. That's pretty fucking cool already."

"Yeah, but, I mean, uh... like a jacuzzi or something?"

Ethan stares at him, brow furrowed. "No. There's no airplane with a jacuzzi on it. That doesn't make any sense. How would that even work? All the water would slosh out onto the fucking floor, and then you'd just slip and fall. I guess you could have a jacuzzi with two inches of water or something, but that sounds like the worst jacuzzi ever."

"No way, I swear it's a thing," Jefferson says. "I'm going to find it."

"I've been on this plane a million times, kid. There's no jacuzzi on it. There's a kitchen, and some offices and meeting rooms and stuff. There's a couple of bedrooms if you want to lay down, too. Then the rest is seats. I don't know about this exact plane, but that's how most of them are."

"A million times, huh?" Brittany asks, smirking.

"Is there an art room?" Scarlet asks.

"What about a TV?" Caleb asks. "Can we watch a football game on a big screen TV on the plane?"

"Yeah, a million," Ethan says to Brittany. Then he turns to Scarlet. "No, there's no art room. I guess you could use one of the offices if you really want." Finally he looks at Caleb. "Caleb, you're awesome. Have I ever told you that? Yeah, there's a big screen TV in the main area by the bar. Usually everything's pre-recorded, but we might be able to watch a game on the trip."

I sneak in and whisper to Ethan, "Oh, you're going to watch a football game with Caleb? I guess I'll just have to take a nap in one of the bedrooms all by myself..."

Ethan puts his arm around me and pulls me close before kissing me on the cheek. It's soft and sweet, but the look in his eyes is anything but. "Don't even fucking tempt me, Princess. If you want to take a nap, you're going to have to do it on your own, because if I'm in that room with you, there's no fucking way either of us is going to sleep."

I'm about to say more. I kind of want to flirt with my boyfriend right now. I really do, except, um...

"Found it!" Jefferson says, holding up his phone triumphantly. He swaggers over to Ethan to show him. "See?"

Ethan snatches the phone away and looks at it. I peek over Ethan's shoulder. Oh, huh! There really is a jacuzzi on that plane.

"Yeah, alright, you found a jacuzzi on a plane, but did you read the article?" Ethan asks. "This is an old plane. It just sits there. It's a hotel suite somewhere. My dad's stayed there before. It's alright, but you have to stay on the actual runway off to the side of the tarmac, so he didn't like it. Kind of busy with planes coming and going all the time, but it's cool, I guess. Like a novelty or something. There's still no planes that actually fly in the air that have a jacuzzi on board."

Jefferson takes back his phone and scrolls through to read the article, grumbling to himself.

"It's so weird that you know stuff like that," I tell Ethan.

He shrugs and kisses my cheek. "Yeah, well, it's because of my dad, I guess. I don't think it's weird."

"It's a good weird," I tell him, sneaking in for a quick kiss. "An interesting weird and I like it."

"Oh yeah? What else do you like?" Ethan asks, leaning close.

I think we're going to kiss again. Yes, there's five other people in the room with us, but that doesn't matter. It would have mattered to me a year ago. I don't think I could have openly kissed someone in a room full of people before, but with Ethan it just kind of seems like a perfectly great idea. It doesn't hurt that Brittany is giving me a covert thumbs up from behind Ethan's shoulder. I try not to laugh, because I'm about to be kissed over here, but it doesn't work.

Ethan's lips almost touch mine, but I burst into laughter. Brittany feigns innocence, even when Ethan looks to see what she's doing. He glares at her, but I rush in quick and kiss him on the cheek. We're about to kiss again, but...

Ethan's phone starts to ring. "Fuck this," he says, but he answers it. "Oh, yeah. We'll be right there."

Short and sweet, he hangs up the phone. Everyone looks over at him. There's still one slice of pizza left, which Ethan promptly grabs from the open box on his desk.

"We're leaving," he says. "The driver is waiting outside. Let's go. Grab your bags. Someone throw these pizza boxes away, too."

Everyone grabs their stuff. Jefferson takes the pizza boxes to the trash while the rest of us walk down the halls to the elevator. We must look strange to everyone else, huh? I guess it's not that strange, but it feels strange being in a big group of people with packed bags waiting at an elevator that we're barely going to fit in.

When we get downstairs, it's kind of worse? I thought the elevator was bad, but, um...

"We're taking an actual taxi?" Scarlet asks. "I thought you'd get a limo or something. You're fucking weird, Mr. Moneybags."

"You want to pay for a limo, Scarlet?" he asks, giving her a look. "Didn't fucking think so!"

"Be nice," I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

"I didn't plan on there being so many people," Ethan says, to me or Scarlet or maybe just no one. "I could have gotten something bigger, but they need more notice."

It's a van, so I guess that's fine. I mean, a taxi van is bigger than a regular taxi car, right? The driver gets out and opens the back so we can put our bags in. Everything fits, so that's a good sign, but now it's time for us to try and sit inside.

Yup. This is going to be an issue.

There's five seats in the back, and one in the front. And there's seven of us. I think we can all fit in if we squeeze tight, but unfortunately no one wants to sit in the front with the driver. It's not because of him, it's just because of, um...

Well, it's because of this:

"I'll just sit in the front," I say with a shrug. "It's not a big deal."

"No fucking way," Ethan says, glaring. He's not really glaring at me, but at everyone. "Ashley and I are the only two people here who are dating, so, yeah, we get priority seating. We're sitting next to each other."

"I'm pretending to date Caleb for research, so I have to sit next to him," Scarlet says.

"You two are really fucking weird," Ethan says.

"I think it's cute!" I say.

Ethan and I get in. We sit in the first two seats. Caleb and Scarlet get in after that, sitting behind us. This leaves, um...

"Brittany, you can fit in next to me," I tell her, pushing Ethan further in.

Ethan grumbles and mutters at me, but he relents. Brittany laughs, and when no one else is looking she gives me an appreciative look.

Now it's just Ron and Jefferson. This seems much too complicated, until Ethan figures out the perfect solution.

"One of you call shotgun," he says.

Jefferson calls it immediately. I think whenever you have a chance to call shotgun before someone else, you sort of have to, right? Except in this case no one wanted to. I don't even think Jefferson wanted to, but instinct kicked in. Ron jumps into the back and squishes in next to Caleb while Jefferson mumbles to himself and gets in the front.

The driver just laughs at us. I think he's seen it all before. "Where to?" he asks.

Ethan explains it to him. I guess it's different from just going to the airport? I'm not even sure what we're doing anymore.

Everyone else is excited. They're still excited. I think everyone's been excited from the start, and I can completely understand why. We're taking a private plane on a weekend trip doing fun art exhibit things. The main difference is that for them it's a kind of vacation or a getaway. It's a new place, a new college, with new people and new things to do.

For me... yup... not quite.

I've been there. It's where I go to school. I know people there. I'm not getting away from anything. I'm going back to it, and the things I'm going back to aren't exactly the most exciting ones ever. I think the art exhibition will be fun, but Jake's going to be there. Not only that, but I'm going to have to see him, maybe even talk to him. A huge part of our plan to get back at him involves...

I don't want to talk about that yet. I will soon. There's more to it that I haven't told Ethan. I don't want to tell Ethan, either. I don't know how to explain it, and I don't think he'll agree with it. It's something I came up with when I was talking to Scarlet the other day, and it seemed like a good idea at the time, but...

Isn't that how they all seem? Like a good idea at the time? I think I've heard Ethan use those exact words before, and we all pretty much know how that usually turns out. I love Ethan, I do, but he's kind of a bad boy and I don't know if any of his ideas could ever be considered good. He's working on it.

I cuddle close to him and rest my cheek on his arm. He puts his arm around my shoulders and holds me tight. This is nice. This is how I want every day to be, but I don't know if we can do that.

I know we can't. We have school. We have separate responsibilities. Maybe eventually we can, but not for... not for awhile...

W
e're almost there
. The taxi driver pulls onto a long, winding road after I point the way. It looks more like an industrial street than somewhere someone would normally drive. It's just one of those roads that looks like a bunch of huge fucking trucks belong on it or something. Which, uh... yeah, I guess that's kind of true sometimes. If a shipping company is flying a bunch of stuff somewhere, they'd use these roads for the trucks.

There's a gate up ahead and off to the side, with a security detail waiting in a booth alongside it. Ashley stiffens in my arm when she spots it. She's been a little quiet for most of the ride.

I lean close and kiss her ear. "What's wrong, Princess?" I ask.

She doesn't say anything for a second. Maybe nothing's wrong. To be completely fucking honest with you, this is the worst part about being a boyfriend. Ashley and I are so fucking close in a lot of ways. I might even go so far as to say we're close in almost every way now. We can be, at least.

I feel like sometimes when you're close to someone you can miss a lot, though. It's like when you go to a movie theatre, but you get really shitty seats and you have to sit all the way in the front, you know? You're up close and personal, and you can see every fucking minuscule piece of all the characters if you're looking at them. Except, uh... yeah, that's the thing. You have to be looking.

If you're looking to the left of the screen, you miss the stuff on the right. You're just too close. If you try to pay attention to the center, you still end up missing a little bit from everything on each side. You just can't see it all, no matter how fucking hard you try, which is probably why everyone hates sitting in those seats and a lot of new movie theatres don't even have those annoying as fuck seats to begin with.

Movies aren't that important, though. You can always go again. It feels like a waste of money, but whatever. It's not a huge deal. You can get the movie when it comes out on DVD or you can rent it online or something, too.

You can't exactly do that with relationships. It doesn't work that way.

Ashley mumbles something to me, but I don't hear it at first. I move in closer so she can say it again. I'm not sure that was a good idea.

"Are they going to inspect our bags?" she asks, peering at the guards at the gate we're about to pull up to. "Um... I don't know if I want them seeing Little Ethan..."

This is... holy fuck, I don't know what this is. I didn't even think about this before. To be real fucking fair, I didn't even know about it before, though. Not until the text message I got during my last class, at least.

Ashley went through the TSA line with the dildo I got her. In her backpack. Which was probably not a checked bag. They fucking x-rayed my cock. I mean, it's not like it was attached, but still. I don't know if I feel violated or not.

"How'd you get through TSA before?" I ask her. "Fuck, Princess. Did they see it? Holy shit."

"No, but what if they had!" she says. "What do I do?"

"What the fuck, I don't know? I can't say I've ever done any fucking traveling with a dildo."

Thankfully we're having this fucked up conversation of ours in... I guess it's whispering. I mean, it's loud whispering, but I don't think anyone can hear us. Except Brittany, who's watching us with a curious look, grinning like an asshole, and probably almost laughing.

"What if they want to inspect it?" she asks me.

"That sounds like the plot of a really bad porno," I tell her.

Brittany leans in and joins our whisper brigade or whatever you want to call it. This is a private whisper group, invite only.

"That's what Ashley said before," she says. Don't worry, she's whispering, too.

"I didn't think it would happen," Ashley adds. "Who knows, though? What would you do if you found a realistic vibrator in someone's bag?"

You know what? No one should ask me questions like this. I'm the worst fucking person to ask. What would I do? I'm going to figure this out. Hold on a second.

Let's say I'm a TSA agent. Ashley goes through my line, looking sexy as fuck. She's got no shoes on, because you have to take your shoes off. This isn't usually a big deal, but let's be real for a second. Girls without shoes on are kind of cute as fuck most of the time. Just wearing socks, padding around, all tiptoe-y and coy or something. I don't fucking care if tiptoe-y isn't a word, either. I literally do not give a fuck.

Alright, so she looks sexy as fuck, and cute as fuck, and tiptoe-y as fuck, and she goes through my line. I x-ray her bag, and notice a specific cock-shaped object. Also, there's batteries in it. Can you bring that on the plane? I guess as a TSA agent I should know the answer to this, but also this sexy fucking nymph is dancing around in front of me, and, uh... fuck.

Excuse me, miss. I'm going to have to pull you aside into this private room. Random security check, I swear. It's got nothing to do with the dildo in your bag. Yes, can you strip down now. How do you use this realistic cock vibrator you have in your bag? No, don't worry, I'm a professional. You can show me. This is my job.

And then we'd have sex. Because. I don't fucking know why. This is my head and I can have sex with Ashley in my mind if I want to. No one else can, though. If you even fucking think about it, I'll...

"Holy fuck, Princess," I say. "What have you done?"

"What do you mean what have
I
done?" she asks, startled. "I didn't do anything! I just thought it'd be fun if I brought--"

We're being a little too loud, apparently. "What's wrong, you guys?" Ron asks from behind us. "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah," I say, determined as fuck. "For a second I forgot how fucking sexy my girlfriend is. How the fuck do people deal with this shit?"

"Uh, isn't that a good problem to have?" Jefferson asks. Up front now. I'm getting flack from behind and up front. Holy fuck.

"Poor Ethan," Brittany says, cooing. "How are you going to deal with having a nice and pretty girlfriend who is fun to hang out with?"

"Hey, fuck you, Brittany," I say, because I think it needs to be said right now. Also, that's from the back, front, and now the side. All fucking directions. I'm being ganged up on here.

"I still have no clue what you're talking about," Caleb says. "What did Ashley bring?"

"You need to mind your own damn business," I tell him.

"If you don't start being nice to Caleb, I'm going to tell him," Scarlet says.

Fuck.
She knows!
Scarlet saw the fucking thing!
Fuck.

Wait. Let's just calm the fuck down for a second. There's something... I don't know. I'm almost remembering something, and then, uh... it's close. Real fucking close. Hold on and let me think.

The driver pulls up to the gate and the guards come out to greet us. "Where to?" he asks.

The driver turns to me. Oh, yeah, right. "Colton Enterprises," I tell him. "We're flying out on the company plane."

The guard checks his list, finds the name, and nods. "Alright, wait for the gate to open, then head straight through. Do you know where to go?"

"Yeah," I tell him. "I got this. I'm a professional."

He laughs and shakes his head. The other guard grins and says something about wishing he had some rich relatives or something. I think I would have taken offense to this before, but now I don't care. You know why? Yeah, my dad is pretty fucking cool. Sometimes. Not all the time. Most of the time lately he's been cool, though. It's not even because he's rich, either.

The gate opens and we drive through. I point out where we need to go to the driver. Private planes are weird sometimes. You just kind of drive on the runway? I mean, it's not like we're dodging planes or whatever the fuck. We're on the side, on the designated driving areas, so we're completely out of the way and won't get run the fuck over by an airplane. Still kind of weird if you've never done it before.

"Princess," I say to her. "You don't have to worry. We don't need to go through the TSA lines. It's a private jet."

"What, really?" she asks.

"What happens if someone brings a bomb, though?" Caleb asks.

"Alright, first off, please don't say shit like that in front of the pilot," I tell him. "Second, why the fuck would someone bring a bomb on their private plane? You usually don't try to blow up your own fucking plane, Caleb. It's just common sense."

"It could be for insurance money," Scarlet says, defending him. "Like a conspiracy or a scandal or whatever the fuck."

"Guys, please don't blow up my dad's plane," I say. "He'd be really fucking pissed at me."

"What about one of those glitter bombs?" Brittany asks. "You know the ones where it's in a box and then when you open the box a bunch of glitter shoots out everywhere?"

"Holy fuck, no. Please don't do that, either. That sounds like the worst fucking thing. How do you even clean that up?"

Brittany grins, demonic. She's scary. I think she might be scarier than Scarlet. It's close.

"So... we're fine, though?" Ashley asks. "With the, um... the thing. That I brought. That thing."

"Yeah," I say. "We're good. The pilot has the right to go through people's bags if he thinks there might be a risk, though."

"Wait, he can go through them? Not just x-ray them?"

"Uh, yeah... there's no x-ray machines out here, Princess. He can search them. He's never searched anything when I've flown, but they always say they can, just as a warning. It's so that you know what's up."

"I think that's worse," she says. "Instead of the TSA agent finding it, the pilot would, except we'll be stuck on the plane with the pilot for hours."

Fuck. That does seem worse. What if he invites her to the cockpit? Holy fuck! It's called a cockpit. The first half of that word bothers me. I get that it's got an entirely different meaning. I have no fucking clue why they call it a cockpit, but I don't like it. My cock, Ashley's... pit.

That's the least sexy thought I've ever had. Pit? What the fuck? I'm done. I can't even fucking do this.

"We're trading bags," I tell her. "I'm taking your bag. If anyone asks, it's mine. There. Problem solved."

"Your bag is too big," she says. "I don't want to carry it."

"I'll take both bags."

"Won't that look suspicious, though? If you have two bags and I don't have a bag, maybe it'll look suspicious and the pilot will want to inspect the bags."

"I'll take your bag, Ashley," Brittany says, with a glimmer in her eyes.

Fuck, she wants my cock. The fake one. I can tell by the look in her eyes. I just fucking know.

"What if... alright, I'll take Ashley's bag, and you can take my bag, Brittany, and Ashley will take yours." I start pointing. I don't know what the fuck I'm pointing at. I'm just pointing, figuring this shit out. I'm pointing at a lot of things. I'm pointing at all the fucking things, alright?

"Whose bag am I taking?" Caleb asks.

"Caleb, stop," I say. "You're taking your own fucking bag, man."

"It's because Ashley has a realistic dildo shaped like Ethan's cock in her bag," Scarlet says, just putting it out there, no fucks given whatsoever.

I turn back and stare at her. She just stares right the fuck back at me.

"I
told
you to be nice to Caleb!" she says. "I
warned
you, Ethan."

"I'm kicking you off the plane," I tell her.

"You can't kick me off the plane," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's my fucking plane."

"It's your dad's plane," she points out.

"Whatever. Same thing."

"Can we all just calm down?" Caleb says.

Ashley says something, too, but it's kind of uh... just mumbling and stuff. Her face is pale and her cheeks are red and she's muttering about something. Brittany leans over to try and calm her down. I don't know how the fuck any of this happened.

"How do you make a realistic dildo shaped like your cock?" Jefferson asks. "That sounds pretty awesome. I want to do it."

"Look, I mean this in the nicest way, but who the fuck would you even give it to?" I ask him.

The driver laughs and shakes his head at us. I don't even fucking blame him. I want to shake my head at us, too, but I'm kind of a part of the
"us"
at the moment, so I'm a little busy here. We pull up to the parking area by the plane and get out. The pilot comes over to greet us.

And you know what? The worst fucking part. He tells us about the requirement where he needs to check our bags in the event that he deems anything risky or suspicious, but then he doesn't even fucking try. There's no checking. We have our bags. We're holding them. He's just letting us on the fucking plane.

And now everyone knows about my cock. Or a dildo shaped like my cock. Not that that's any better. It's not like I'm ashamed of the fucking thing. If I'm being honest with you, my cock and I are really good friends. We only hang out with cool people, though. The only cool person in the world or anywhere at the moment is Ashley.

Whatever. I'm done.

"Caleb," I say when we're on the plane. "Let's see if we can find a football game on TV."