Is this man talking dirty to his plane?
Or am I getting horny on the verge of death?
Whatever. I don’t care if George gets kinky with his aircraft as long as he can land it without smashing us to pieces. My fingers press into my sides, my nails digging through my shirt into my skin.
And just when I think I might tear my own flesh off to relieve the tension of the moment, there’s a squeak of wheels on pavement and the plane gives a dramatic bounce.
Once more.
Again.
Then the ride smooths out, and we’re rolling down a highway, cars pulled off to the side of the road, drivers gaping at us as we pass.
We…landed?
As my brain tries to reorient to the fact that today is not the last day of my life, George manages to use the final bit of momentum to steer us toward the shoulder, where we eventually rumble to a stop.
Everything goes still. All I can hear is the thrumming pulse in my ears and the panting breath dragging in and out of my lungs.
A set of large hands carefully removes my headset, and I feel like I’ve been underwater for a while and my head just breached the surface. Callused palms cup my cheeks, turning my face until all I can see is George. George with his five-o’clock shadow and closely shaved head. George with his silver eyes that currently have pupils so wide I’m tempted to ask if he’s on something. And if he’s willing to share because, holy hell, I need a medical-grade substance to ease my lingering panic.
“You’re on the ground,” he says, his voice solid enough to hold on to. “It’s over.”
“We’re alive?” I have to be, right? The afterlife wouldn’t force me into an enclosed space with an arrogant d-bag unless I’d been a terrible person, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been a semi-decent person for most of my life.
George nods, using his thumbs to push back the sweaty hair sticking to the sides of my face. The crimson strands are so damp they’ve darkened to a deep burgundy.
“We’re alive,” he confirms. “And we need to get out of the plane. Now.”
“Is it going to explode?” I rasp the question, my throat raw as if I’ve been screaming.
There’s a flicker in his expression, but I’m too off-balance to try to decipher it.
“Unlikely. But if traffic picks up again, they might hit the plane.” George drops his touch from my face, one palm landing on my jean-covered thigh, the other going to the buckle of my seat belt. Once the click sounds, he leans over my lap, reaches across me to unlatch the door, and pushes it open.
As George bends in front of me, something shifts in my body. My heart continues to pound, and my nerves all remain on edge, but other parts react in totally inappropriate ways.
My nipples tighten.
A tingle races up and down my spine.
A pleasurable clench squeezes my lower belly…
“Holy hell,” I whisper, horrified when I realize what’s happening. That the dampness in my underwear is not because I pissed myself, which I’m kind of wishing was the case now.
George straightens in his seat and nods toward the exit. “Let’s go.”
Yes, let’s, my body purrs, pulsing with want. With need. All for the man next to me.
Horrified by my reaction, I slap away his hands that still linger by my waist and scramble out of the cockpit. When my sneakers touch the blacktop, my knees buckle and I would’ve face-planted on asphalt if I didn’t grab hold of the door handle. Sucking in a few steadying breaths, I lock my knees and will strength into my legs until I feel steadier on my feet.
Then I run.
Not far, just to the edge of the road and then a short distance into the litter-strewn grass on the side of the highway. There’s a stand of trees in front of me, and I wonder if I could disappear into them. Keep on going. Outrun the weird, uncomfortable reactions my body is having to what just happened. Sprint all the way home and forget this disastrous day.
“Beth!” George’s deep shout sends my shoulders to my ears. “Don’t go far. Emergency responders are on their way.”
Reluctantly, I turn back toward the plane. But as odd as the sight of a Cessna 172 parked on the shoulder of the highway is, my eyes immediately seek out the man who just managed an amazing feat of flying.
