3. Micah
The scent of her—Amy’s—perfumeis driving me crazy as I steer her into the bedroom. The soft florals mixed with something earthy, and a little hint of spice is making me hungry… for more than just food. She’s too young, I remind myself. It doesn’t matter that her qualifications make her older than I first suspected, a few years older than Mason, but still, she’s closer to my son’s age than mine, putting her completely off limits. A fact that bugs me since there’s something about her that draws me. A feeling different than I’ve ever felt before. Something I don’t need to be feeling since I need to be so close to her this weekend. Even worse—or better depending on your view of torture—I don’t get to ease into it as I need to pretend we’re an item to get Brittany off my back.
Fucking Elise. This is all her fault. There’s no way she didn’t have time to call me so I could find a replacement for her. And what was more important that a weekend fuckfest? She loves toying with wealthy men, getting them to fall all over her and that’s exactly what this weekend was going to be for her. Our relationship might be a friends with benefits type of thing, but right now, with the way I’m feeling, none of those words apply. I shove my empty fingers through my hair, keeping my other ones pressed against the small of Amy’s back. The heat of her skin almost burns my fingers, melting us together, and it’s all Elise’s fault. If she’d been here, I wouldn’t be fighting my dick and my fee—nope not going there—over Amy and I wouldn’t be dealing with handsy Brittany.
Fuck. Another problem to deal with. The way Brittany is acting is so over the top inappropriate that she’s outliving her usefulness as an employee. Too bad I can’t just fire her right now, but that would only make things worse. The FAA requires us to have a minimum number of staff in various positions for each flight and for this one, we’d gone with the minimum. Besides, firing her would remove the one threat I still hold over her to get her to behave.
“Is-is that a king-sized bed? On an airplane?” The marvel and disbelief in Amy’s voice is refreshing and makes me chuckle. No one has ever commented on the size before except to possibly say it’s a little small. She turns to me, filling my nose with her scent again which is beginning to make me feel like a teenage boy where a slight breeze will send all my blood south. “Why do you have a bed that size here?”
A few strands of her hair hang by her face, having escaped her bun, and without any conscious thought, I brush it back behind her ear. Her breathing hitches and so does mine when I feel how soft her skin is. I want to stay here and keep touching her, but I remind myself she asked a question. A question I should answer to keep myself from doing what I really want with her.
“It is a king and I have it because this is my personal aircraft. I spend a lot of time on it, flying around the country and overseas. Many times, I’m needed in meetings shortly after we land.” I shrug. “This way I can rest on the plane as if I’m spending the night in a hotel.” I nod towards two doors on the far wall. “I also have a closet and a full bathroom there.”
At the sound of Brittany’s steps heading towards us, I pull Amy into my chest, sliding my hands up to cradle her face. “Trust me. Help me.”
Her eyes dilate and I’m not sure if it’s from the intimate position we’re in or if its from the pleading, almost begging tone I’m using.
“Yes.” She licks her lips and I want to groan. This isn’t real. Just make it look like it is, I admonish myself as I lean in closer. We just need to make Brittany think I’ve already moved on, that Amy is Elise’s true replacement, and she’ll leave us alone. If not, then she won’t like the consequences because not only will her ass be fired, but she’ll never work on a plane—any plane—again.
But the moment my lips hover over hers and I feel her warm breath caressing me, I’m gone. I press my lips against hers, letting out a soft moan at their softness, their plumpness. The ache in my chest intensifies at the touch that wasn’t meant to happen. It overwhelms me. Me. The man who’s always in control. The one who wasn’t afraid to walk my own path when it comes to relationships instead of falling into the family line.
I pull back slightly, never loosing contact as I step closer, using my hands to tip her head back further, angling it to allow me to take the kiss deeper, to truly taste her. Nothing else matters. Only her. Our tongues dance a tango, leaving me breathless. Or maybe the sensation of my lungs not working comes from the knowledge that this isn’t lust, it’s not a simple physical attraction. It’s something more.
And that fucking scares me.
The sound of a throat clearing is the excuse I need to back off… at least in the kiss because I keep my hands and my body right where it is, holding eye contact with Amy even as I speak to Brittany. “Just put the drinks and snacks on the bedside table. We’ll buzz if we need anything else.”
It takes only a few minutes until I hear the soft click of the bedroom door closing, but those minutes feel like a lifetime. I grew up on stories about true love, about finding that one person who complements you like no other. According to family lore, it’s like being kicked in the chest by a mule—I suspect that my great-how-many-times-grandfather was probably doing something with a mule, got distracted by a pretty woman, and was kicked by the afore mentioned animal for his troubles—but I never believed it. For me, a healthy dose of lust and attraction was truly the basis of a satisfactory marriage. It’s what I had with my ex-wife until it was no longer satisfactory. It’s why I’ve slept around, keeping more to multiple friends-with-benefits type relationships than serious dating. The old saying “once bitten, twice shy” are words I live by. So, no matter what I’m feeling, it can’t possibly be what Pops talked about. There’s no way.
As soon as my brain registers the click, I pull my hands away and step back, giving us both breathing room even as my body cries out to keep her close, to keep touching her. To cover up the awkwardness that hangs in the air—and to satisfy my need to touch her again without making us more uncomfortable—I lead her to the side of the bed.
“Sorry about that, for having forced us into this room for the duration, but I thank you for helping me out with Brittany. She’s…” I shrug, not really knowing what to say.
The muffled giggles bring a smile to my lips as Amy’s body vibrates next to me.
“Yeah, she’s something alright. How do you put up with that from an employee?” Her eyes pop open as she covers her open mouth with her hand. I can see the embarrassment and shame wash over her in a wave, matching the rise of her blush. “I’m so sorry for saying that. It’s not my business to know how you operate. Maybe that’s what you like from your flight attendants.” She glances around the room as if she’s seeing it in a different light, a place for sexual conquests instead of a place to relax and recoup during my travels.
“Hey, it’s not like that.” I clasp her chin between my fingers, forcing her to look at me, to see the sincerity in my words. “I’ve never slept with anyone who works for me. I don’t allow things like what Brittany was doing, to happen to me by my employees. I’m not even sure what was going through her mind.”
Amy snorts and speaks below her breath, not realizing I can hear. “I can tell you.”
The tinge of jealousy in her tone makes me want to kiss her again, to show her how I don’t care what Brittany thinks she can have, but I don’t. She’s too young, I remind myself. Instead, I use my words, not my hands—and lips. Wouldn’t ma be proud of me now?
“She’s never worked on my personal plane alone before. And I can tell you, she won’t be doing so in the future. In fact, her continuing employment is in serious jeopardy despite how guests on my other planes have never had anything bad to say about her. But enough about her. How about we make the most of this time to get to know one another so we can make this weekend look believable? Since Elise knew what she was going to help me with this weekend, in relation to hopeful future business dealings, and with your MBA, I’m sure that you’ll be a real asset as my plus one.”
There’s no verbal response, but Amy follows my non-verbal command and climbs up on to the bed, making my cock twitch. I turn, picking up her drink, giving myself a second to get under control, before handing it to her. After placing the snacks on the bed, I join her, keeping some space between us as I settle in to get to know her better. Despite our earlier kiss, I vow to keep this weekend platonic even if it kills me.