Page 42 of Air Affair

Next, Evelyn left on the arm of the self-absorbed shipping magnate her parents kept trying to set her up with. Poor Evelyn! “Goodnight. Have fun,” she said with a wink as she headed out. Rory had no doubt Evelyn guessed exactly what she was up to. Thankfully, Rory knew Evelyn would keep her secrets.

“You were marvelous tonight, Evelyn. I couldn’t have a better friend. Thank you for everything!”

Evelyn smiled and took her leave. One by one, her dance partners made their excuses and left. One or two persistent ones tried to persuade her to go out with them, but she pleaded exhaustion and headed up to room 511…the one adjoining Hank’s.

She’d only done this once before—with Archie. Not that she wanted to think about him with Hank (hopefully!) waiting for her in the next room. But this little adventure was twice as dangerous. A scandal with a man from the same social strata was one thing, but with Hank? The gossip rags would feast on her and her family forever.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she contemplated the risks that they were both taking for this one chance to grasp a bit of heaven. This had to end. They both knew it. After tonight, they would have to go their separate ways. But she needed one perfect night with him to escape the confines of her life for a few hours and get him out of her system once and for all.

Slipping off her shoes, she tiptoed to the door connecting the two rooms and unfastened the lock on her side. She knocked. There was no answer. Did he leave? She was so sure he wouldn’t.

She knocked again and pressed her ear to the door, desperately hoping for some sign that she hadn’t misjudged. At long last, a bolt clicked. The door opened, and she fell into Hank’s waiting arms. Warmth flooded through her body.

He pulled her into his room and kissed her, hard and demanding, with almost bruising force. She answered in kind, her lips and tongue consuming him hungrily. For weeks, she’d been dreaming of this. Ever since that night on the Flatiron, she’d been drowning in desire for this man. No, it started before that. Was it when he took her flying near Washington D.C.?

She needed one last encounter with him to get him out of her system. The intensity of her need was too much to bear. If she could get what she wanted just this once, she could make the memories last a lifetime. They couldn’t be together, but they could have this one night to remember always.

Then all thoughts flew from her head as he began kissing down her neck. Her desire became something tangible. It pressed her closer to him, binding them together in a hot, sultry dance. He backed her against the wall so that his entire length pressed against her. The effect of his heat and touch was immediate and overwhelming. She wanted to bite and claw until his clothes lay shredded on the floor. She wanted to lick and suck every inch of exposed flesh. She wanted to feel him everywhere but especially in one particular place that was pulsing with need.

Tugging at the belt around his uniform, she slipped it through the clasp, unbuckling it. Her fingers fumbled at his buttons as his hands drove her mad, travelling up and down her body, caressing her breasts and grasping her buttocks.

He groaned as he slid his hand beneath the fabric of her dress to caress her bare nipple. “No chemise,” he murmured as he nipped at her shoulder.

“The cut of the dress wouldn’t allow it.”

“Good God.”

When she tore the last button free, she yanked his jacket down, discarding it on the floor as she started on the buttons of his shirt. He turned her and backed her into the side of a writing desk, shoving a lamp aside to make room for her to sit with her legs spread to accommodate him. The front panel of her skirt hung between her legs, and the side panels slid down, leaving her exposed up to the thighs where her garters peeked through.

Wrapping her legs around his waist, she welcomed his firm, grasping hands, caressing and squeezing her thighs until he reached her garters. He unclipped her silk stockings with ease, tracing the seams at the back with his fingers as he slid them down.

As he knelt at her feet, he reached up and found the part in her sleek, silk undergarments, pressing her open with his hands. Cool air touched her wet folds, and then white heat blinded her as he sucked her into his mouth, torturing her most sensitive place with his devilish tongue.

“Fuck yes,” he moaned after taking his first taste.

She arched back at the sensation, leaning on her hands. Fortunately, it was a sturdy desk. The shoulder of her dress slid down to her elbow, exposing one of her breasts.

As he continued his tender torture, he reached up to the other side, sliding the remaining strap off her shoulder so that her dress fell to her waist, exposing her entire chest. As he held her hips, she pinched and teased her own breasts, intensifying the wave of sensation that was overtaking her. She writhed against him as he put a finger inside her, making her shudder.

Closing her eyes, she was in Hank’s airplane again, soaring through the air, no engine, only the caress of the wind against her skin. As the ground grew closer and treetops went whipping past, the intensity of the sensation increased. Her senses sharpened as Hank’s skilled hand guided them in for a landing. Everything went white as she touched the ground, shuddering to a stop.

Panting, she watched Hank stand up, dressed only in his union suit and pants, an impressive erection tenting the fabric.

She traced her fingers up the bulge, and he took a sharp, hissing breath.

“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth, shuddering from head to toe.

“That’s my plan,” she said, sliding off the bureau, letting her dress drop to the floor, and unhooking her garter belt so that she was completely naked. Then she pulled him by the waist of his pants toward the bed.

“I didn’t mean… I don’t think we should…”

For God’s sake, why was he fighting her on this? He obviously wanted it too. Her hands on his hips, she maneuvered him until his calves hit the bed and began unbuttoning his union suit from the top. “Fuck?”

He gasped hearing her say that word and clutched her convulsively against his arousal. It seemed he liked it when she talked dirty.

“It’s my birthday, Hank. I want you inside me.”

“God, I want that too, but⁠—”