AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We’ll be under the same roof tonight, and he knows which bedroom is mine. I’ve already learned that the man can move without making a sound. Hopefully he puts that set of skills to use tonight.
CHAPTER9
VINCENT
Emma has been gonefor a half hour, but it feels like a year already. I glance at my watch and stretch. “Fuck, I’m tired. Must be all that traveling.”
Frank furrows his brow. “Traveling. You’re saying traveling made you tired?”
“You know how it is. When you’re not the one at the wheel, your body gets out of sorts.”
“It’s nine. No one is tired at nine. Not babies, not teens, not thirty-year-old jet pilots.”
I bust out a large, jaw-cracking yawn. “Must be some category of people that get tired at nine. Whatever that category is, mark me down.” I push up from the table and throw a few bills down. “It’s not for the owner. It’s for the wait staff,” I say before Frank tells me my money is no good here. “And anyone else who wants a round.” A light bulb turns on. I draw out a few more bills and wave them in the air. “Hey guys, drinks are on Fra—Biscuit! He got his bonus and wanted to share!”
The crowd descends with cheers. Everyone wants to pat Frank on the back, some vigorous enough that it nearly knocks the pints over. Amongst the commotion, it’s easy to slip away.
Newkirk is a small enough town that everything is within walking distance. A quick one-mile jog from the bar and I’m outside the Charles’ ranch home. The house is set up like most one-story units with the living quarters on one side and the sleeping quarters on the other. The master bedroom is at the back of the house. Emma said hers was the first on the left, which meant it faces the street. Climbing out of her window would be easy enough physically, it’s the getting caught part that’s the problem. There isn’t much by way of ground cover. Anyone walking down the sidewalk would see you, and her neighbors have a clear view of the front yard except for the one large oak tree providing shade for the entrance.
I walk around to the back and check out the master. Blue light leaks through the sides of the shades. There are faint sounds of clapping and then some game show music. The parental units are watching television.
I enter through the side door. “Just me,” I yell loudly. “Frank’s still at the bar. He bought everyone a round. I came home early. Jet lag is kicking the old behind.”
“God, could you be louder? Some of us are trying to sleep!” yells Emma.
My eyes arrow to her door.
At the end of the hallway, Mrs. Charles peeks her head out. “Good to see you, son. Have a nice rest, and Emma Charles, don’t be so rude to our guest.”
I wave to Mrs. Charles, toe off my boots, and then stomp noisily down the stairs. Or at least I make it seem that way. I don’t actually move from the top step. Halfway through my production, I hear Mrs. Charles’ retreat into the bedroom. Stealthily, I slide stocking-footed across the waxed wood floors to the first door on the left.
“Took you long enough,” Emma whispers when I arrive. She’s sitting on the bed wearing the same clothes she was dressed in at the bar. Jean shorts and a shirt. No boots. “I thought you’d come in through the window, like a ninja.”
“I’m a fighter pilot. We usually blow the doors down with enough force and sound to wake a whole neighborhood.” I stalk forward, pulling off my T-shirt.
Her eyes widen at the sight of my bare chest, but she manages to stay on topic. “Don’t you have secret planes?”
“If we did and I told you, I’d have to kill you.” I unbuckle my belt and with one hand, rip the button fly open.
“Oh, is that why guys like the buttons over the zippers?” she asks. Her gaze is pinned at my waist.
“That and no one likes the idea of their meat getting caught between the metal teeth.” I raise my hand to capture her head, but she scoots back against the wall.
“Wait.” Suddenly she seems nervous. “This seems very easy for you. How often have you done this?”
“Sneaking into a girl’s room to get cozy? Not a one.”
A mulish expression sets into her features. She crosses her arms and glares at me. “I don’t believe you.”
My dick feels exposed, and he’s not even out of my jeans yet. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“If you have no experience, then how were you going to please me?”
My spirits take a dive. She’s using the past tense. I’m not sure how to save this. Mistrustful women were not in the flight handbook. And she’s not wrong. Pilots have a bad reputation. Some of the guys in my crew have fucked so many girls around the base that they can’t even go out in public without getting cursed at by someone.
“I figure it’s much like flying. Pay attention to the signals of the plane, how it feels under your touch, and move with it.”
“I didn’t save myself all these years to give my virginity to some flight jockey who has probably used these lines on a girl in every continent.”
