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Just me and Olivia, our ride home. I think even I can manage that no matter what the newspapers print.
She’s all that matters to me now and especially now that she’s the one thing that’s cured my fear of flying.
She’ll have to fly everywhere I fly from now on when I leave home.
But where is home from here? The question forms in my mind as I look sleepily up from my drooping lids to her. Noticing how much she seems bothered by the same question, and probably a dozen other ones.
The jet pitches and dips, but we’re both still buckled in this time.
Registering my expression, Olivia does her best to calm me down.
“Just turbulence, right?” she asks nervously, gripping the edge of her seat.
Feeling the breakfast we shared moving up and down inside me, I wish I could say more, but I only manage a nod of my head before the whole plane pitches left again suddenly.
“Sorry folks,” the pilot tells us over the intercom. “Thought we could get above this weather, but it seems to be headed in the same direction we are, we might have to divert. I’ll keep you posted.”
Olivia gives me a worried look. “That doesn’t sound promising,” she says gravely.
“The pilot’s the best,” I assure us both. “And small planes always feel the weather worse than big ones,” I add.
“Well, if we have to fall from the sky, there’s no one I’d rather be with,” she tells me.
“So much for optimism,” I try to laugh it off, but another wave of turbulence stops my humor short.
It’s a hairy ride for another few minutes but settles once our pilot climbs over the weather, letting us know we’ll have to divert for an hour, maybe two.
Olivia seems relieved, and not just because the plane’s stopped acting like a yo-yo.
“An extra hour or two, huh?” she asks me, unfastening her seatbelt. Expert level now.
“No cabin crew to bother us either. What should we do to pass the time?” she asks me in a husky tone, the look in her eyes already telling me what she has in mind.
“Here?” I ask her, looking around me, realizing it’s about as good a place as any. No one to tell us what to do and at least three thousand miles from the nearest boss or agent slash manager.
Next to the intercom switch is a do not disturb option, which I flick casually and unbuckle myself as I move over to Olivia, doing my best to scoop her up in my arms without hitting my head.
The cabin’s big, but not that big. I still have to watch my head.
Feeling her hands grab at my chest as I take her to the most private section of the cabin. I ask her, “Are you sure?”
Her head is already nodding, her wide eyes looking up at me, never more sure of anything since I’ve met her.
“I want you, Jack. Now more than ever,” she tells me softly.
I lean down and kiss her, keeping my head low once we enter the private suite at the rear of the jet. A space I’ve changed my clothes in a few times but never used the full sized bed or bathroom in before now.
“You sure we’re alone?” she asks, and I nod firmly.
“I always travel alone, making sure I’m never disturbed,” I tell her, undoing my shirt, glad that habit is paying off for us both now.
She lays back on the bed, looking up at me as I undress, which I’m not afraid to do in front of her.
Unlike the last time, her focus is more on me now, the light in the cabin a lot brighter than the dim lights and storm from last night in the hotel.
I strip naked silently and quickly, noting her eyes move to my bobbing arousal as its finally freed but our eyes lock soon after that.
Moving to the edge of the bed. I take her hands in mine and press them over my chest. Onto my heart.
“This is here for you now, always,” I tell her, feeling her trembling fingers trace the outline of my chest before we kiss again and I clutch her firmly in my arms.
“I thought this would be different,” I confess to her, feeling my own hands tremble a little as we both smile at each other. “More special is what I mean to say.”
“How could this not be special?” she asks me, moving her hands off me only long enough to point out our surroundings.
“On a private jet, thousands of miles from anyone. The mile high club?” she ventures.
“A few miles high,” I counter, glad she feels this is special enough. “As long as I can have you, Olivia. As long as you’ll be mine,” I remind her. “That’s all that matters to me. If you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” she chimes, cocking her brow and shivering a breath as her hands return to my chest, tracing their way down to my groin as she grips me with both hands, letting out a low sigh as she guides me over herself laying back onto the bed.
