Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
RIVER
She’s giving me a look that says, why are you talking to me? Why am I talking to her? I have no idea but she’s intriguing to me, and I’m essentially being held captive next to her for six more hours.
“You want to hear about my bucket list?” she asks with a little air of attitude in her voice that makes me want to do dirty things to her. Dirty things? Fuck. I clearly need to get laid. It’s been months.
“Yes,” I reply. I bring the glass of scotch back to my lips and she watches my throat as I swallow. I smirk, she’s just as affected by me. Interesting.
She cocks her head to one side as she adjusts herself in her seat as if she’s considering whether she’ll humor me or not.
She reaches up and pulls her hair out of the messy bun on top of her head.
Long wavy locks cascade over her shoulders.
Holy fuck! My hands itch to touch it, to rub strands of it between my fingers, to take some in my hand and yank her head back, giving me access to that slender neck of hers.
I squirm in my seat as I feel my cock coming to attention. These are going to be a long six hours.
She runs her hands through her hair and pulls it back up into a new messy bun on top of her head. It doesn’t help things because she only looks more like a sexy librarian, or at least what I envision a sexy librarian to look like.
“I still have about eight things to do,” she admits with a shrug.
“How many things did you have on this list?” I ask as I lean back in my seat. The flight attendant sets down our meals which took fucking forever to bring.
I nod and Miss Smartypants here thanks her.
She grabs a carrot from her dinner tray and dips it in a sauce, bringing it to her plump lips and biting into it. It’s like my own cabaret show, only she doesn’t realize how sexy each and every movement she makes is.
“Fifteen,” she says.
“What’s left on the list?”
She takes a bite of her chicken and then looks back toward me. “Stuff.”
I give her a pointed look and she sighs. Then it’s like a lightbulb goes off and she looks at me in a way that I can’t read. Is she going to tell me or leave me hanging?
“There are a few places left in the world that I’d like to see,” she says.
“Such as?”
“The Taj Mahal. Angel Falls. Antarctica…for the penguins mostly. And I want to snorkel with whale sharks in New Caledonia,” she begins.
“You’ll like Antarctica,” I state.
Her eyes widen. “You’ve been there?”
I nod. “I have. I went a few years ago,” I say.
Sadness washes over me. It was my grandfather’s last big trip.
He’d wanted to go his entire life, and five years ago he called me and said he had booked us an adventure.
I was hesitant to go, but it ended up being the best week we’d ever had together.
And now…I’m so glad I went. Those are memories I can never replace.
“Did you see lots of penguins?” she asks. It’s like her entire body language has morphed into something else. Her excitement is adorable.
“Yes. Adélie, gentoo, and chinstrap,” I say.
Her eyes gleam with curiosity. “That’s so cool!” she squeals in delight. “Did you get to go right up to them?”
I shake my head. “You have to stay fifteen feet away. Although on one island I did have one come up to me. I had to wait thirty minutes for it to leave before I could continue my hike,” I explain.
She smiles and it transforms her entire face. She’s back to being sexy as fuck. We both eat in silence for a few moments.
“What else is on this list?” I ask, breaking the pause in our conversation.
She pulls her blanket up around her and I wonder if she’s cold. I had placed my blanket over my lap, and I hold up the edge toward her. “You want some of mine?” I ask.
She looks surprised by my offer. “Uh, sure. It’s very cold in here,” she says as I take half of my blanket and place it over her lap.
“Better?” I ask once she’s covered.
She nods. “So, what else?”
“I want to be an extra in a movie,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow.
“I know it’s silly, but I think it would be fun to experience it,” she admits. “And it’d be cool to be watching a movie with my friends and then be like, oh, look, there I am.” She giggles.
“You wouldn’t tell anyone if you did it?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I don’t think so. Maybe.”
She pauses and finishes the last of her veggies and some of her chicken as the flight attendant comes by to collect them. The flight attendant refers to us by our names. Ms. Garrison is apparently the name of my seatmate.
When we are alone, I ask the obvious question.
“I’m River, by the way. River Dumont. And you are?”
“Paris Garrison,” she says. She looks at me and gives a small laugh as she glances back at my grandfather’s book. “I still think it’s funny you share the same name.”
I shrug, deciding I don’t want to divulge that secret. Not yet anyhow.
“I think it’s funny that you’re named after our departure city,” I counter.
She giggles. “Apparently…that’s where I was made,” she says, her voice lowering at the last part. I smile at her, and she grins back at me. Fuck, she’s adorable.
I give her another look to urge her to continue.
“I want to go sleep under the stars somewhere where you can see the northern lights,” she says. “Like, an impromptu night where I just get in my car with a friend, and we head out toward Maine or Canada or something and lie in the back of an old pickup truck and watch the sky erupt in greens.”
There are two more items. So far, her list seems pretty straightforward.
No big surprises. I’m guessing she’s maybe twenty-three or twenty-four.
It’s a list of a young adult. Someone who is just starting to experience the world on their own.
I probably had a similar list at her age but I’m a solid fourteen-plus years older than her.
I’ve seen a lot more of the world and my list is much more fine-tuned.
There are very specific places I want to visit now, specific restaurants I want to dine at, and the only experience I have left is to meet the one.
I’d never admit that to my friends, who all applaud me for my wealthy bachelor lifestyle, but secretly, I’d like to settle down.
I’ve built a massive marketing firm that specializes in book and movie launches.
I’ve seen all the major things I want to see.
I’ve done all the major things I want to do.
And all before I turn forty. But the perfect woman… she’s been elusive.
She curls up in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her. “I want to go skydiving,” she says.
“It’s exhilarating,” I state.
“What haven’t you done?” she asks with a laugh.
“I think I have a few more years on me than you do, so I’ve made the most of my time,” I explain.
“Good for you. Carpe diem,” she says.
There’s one thing left on the list and I’m dying to know what it is. Does she want to meet a famous person? Does she want to go deep sea diving? Maybe she’s interested in being on one of those private flights to space.
“Last one,” I say quietly.
She blushes and now my curiosity is piqued.
“Uh-huh,” she whispers.
“Don’t leave me hanging. What’s this last item?” I ask.
Her blush deepens.
I lean forward. “Don’t lie. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
She rolls her eyes. “How? You don’t even know me.”
I reach out and just barely touch her cheek. “Your skin gives you away.”
She huffs. “Fine, but don’t laugh.”
I nod and she takes a deep breath. “Swear you won’t laugh?”
I hold up my fingers in a Boy Scout salute. “I promise.”
She giggles. “Fine. Mile high club.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What?” I say a little loudly.
She reaches out and clamps a hand over my mouth. “Shhhh,” she hushes me.
I peel her hand away from my mouth when really, I want to lick it. I want to lick her everywhere. My little feisty one also has a dirty mind. I’m beginning to like her. Much more than I should.
“As in the mile high club?” I confirm.
Nodding, she blushes again. “Yes.”
“Why haven’t you done that before?” I glance at her designer clothes and expensive bag. She’s clearly someone who has access to money. I bet she’s been on a private jet before.
She shrugs. “I’ve only flown with family and friends before now. And none of those times were situations where it was possible…so…” She trails off.
“What would this mile high club entail?” I coax because she has one hundred percent of my attention now, my attention and my cock’s attention.
“You’re not going to laugh at me?” she inquires.
“Paris, I promise not to laugh,” I state.
“I…I mean the ultimate would be a private jet with a bedroom, but otherwise…I have this uh, fantasy,” she starts.
I motion for her to keep going.
“I meet a stranger.” Check. “And we end up seated together on a flight.” Check. “And he turns out to be really wonderful.” Maybe check. “And a few hours into the flight when everyone is sleeping, and the cabin lights are off…he…” She blushes and I lean forward.
“He what?” I whisper close enough to smell her perfume again. I note that we are over two hours into our flight now and they just turned down the lights to allow passengers to sleep.
“He places his hand on my thigh,” she whispers back.
“Like this?” I ask as I place my hand on her thigh, my pinky finger dangerously close to the heat of her sex.
“Uh-huh,” she breathes.
“And then what?”
“Then we keep talking, but his fingers…start massaging me…” She sucks in a breath as I begin rubbing circles with my fingers.
“And then?”
“And then he moves his hand under the blanket I have over my lap.” I comply and move my hand under the blanket while pulling closed the privacy curtain next to me. This flight just got a whole lot more interesting.
She whimpers a little as my hand moves closer to the apex of her thighs. She’s so warm here and my cock does a little twitch at the mere thought of being buried between her legs. Fuck, if only she knew the things, she was doing to me right now.
“And?” I coax.
“And then slowly, he plays with the hem of my pants,” she goes on, her eyelids drifting closed as I run a finger along the top hem of her yoga pants. They are loose and could be easily pushed down her legs.
This time she goes on. “And then he slides them inside my panties and…you know,” she says as her face heats once more.
I lean forward. “No, feisty one, I don’t know. But I think I’m going to like what you say next,” I reply as I whisper against her face that’s only inches from mine. “I think I’m going to like it very much.”