“Accurate,” I growl.
“And on the way is Hawaii.”
“Get to the point.”
“Do you want to stop and in a controlled environment, with zero chance of being found out, i.e. not in a Tokyo hotel, do a speed ‘get to know each other’ workshop, or whatever?”
I look over, and I hate to admit it. The woman is right. It will be more secure and far more suitable to do it in a location with privacy.
I flip several switches and check the jet’s complex mapping system.
Adjusting our course for Hawaii, I make a timing calculation. After adjusting the autopilot, I stand. I then find the ultra-private and safe cell. Sam starts to give me wife-like lecture eyes, and I don’t like it.
“Do not judge me, woman, I have a lot on.”
“Obviously, hubby.”
“That’s hubby to be actually! Try to keep up!” I say.
My fiancée smiles as the call connects.
“Change of plans, I need clearance to land in Honolulu, and fast. Like now. You can track our flight path with your cell, correct? Good, arrange landing. Then departure tomorrow and say midday for Tokyo arrival.”
I listen, ring off, then grab my normal cell.
After keying in numbers, I hit call.
“Richard, I need your place tonight. The one in Hawaii.” I waitand then sigh. “Great. Thanks, I owe you. I’ll send arrival details in ten.”
I drop the second cell onto the pilot’s leather seat, and I pace. I then smile at her.
“You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?” she asks.
I give her a look.
“Now, take the trash out, hubby.”
I’m back in a good mood, and I feel unstoppable. I leap behind her and tickle the hell out of her.
She squeals, writhes around, and she leaps on top of me. We wrestle down, ending up on the carpet behind the seats.
She tries to tickle me, but being stronger, I finally get the better of her. I climb on top of her and hold her down by her wrists.
I am now between her legs, as we pant, laugh, and suddenly stop fighting.
We look into each other’s eyes, and the energy starts to feel sexual. Our hips are against each other, and I want to be inside her. Only I can’t. Not fucking now.
Suddenly, I stand up and help her. “Sorry… dear.”
“That’s okay… dear. It’s just, you know, typical engagement stuff.”
“Really?” I ask, unsure.
“You don’t get out much, do you?”
I mock-chase her, and she squeals and runs down the back of my jet fast. I stop and watch her run away. Deep down, I want to chase her. And deep down, I want to take her.
In every way possible.
