Smash Cut (3 page)
Authors: Sandra Brown
Tags: #Legal, #Suspense, #Fiction, #General, #Georgia, #Thrillers, #Rich people, #Atlanta (Ga.), #Trials (Murder), #Legal stories, #Rich People - Georgia
Youve suffered a tragedy and youre grieving, Mr. Wheeler. Were intruders on your grief. I understand, and Im sorry for it. Despite his apology, Sanford told Doug he would call him in the morning to arrange a meeting time. Ms. Rutledge, he said, turning to Julie, we may also be calling on you again.
I gave Ms. Kimball my contact information. Ill be available whenever you need me.
If
she survived the night, she thought. Her exhaustion was such that she could scarcely move, yet going home alone, getting into bed, and turning out the lights wasnt an appealing prospect. With the memory of Pauls gruesome death etched in her mind, how would she ever sleep again?
As though reading her mind, Kimball asked if she had someone to stay with her. Julie shook her head. We could have a policewoman
No thank you, Julie interrupted. Id rather be alone, actually.
The female detective nodded with understanding.
The elevator arrived. Julies heart clutched, but she entered the enclosure and turned to face out. Doug joined her. Sanford divided a remorseful look between them. Please accept my deepest condolences.
Mine as well, Kimball said.
Then the doors closed, leaving Julie and Doug alone. She said, To spare the family embarrassment, Ill keep a respectable distance. She hoped he might argue that decision. He didnt. I have only one request, Doug. Will you allow me to choose the spray for Pauls casket? Her throat seized up, but she refused to weep in front of him. Her gaze remained fixed on the seam between the elevator doors, her head held high, her posture straight. Please.
Of course, Julie.
Thank you.
He made a choking sound, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was crying silently, his shoulders shaking in an effort to control himself. Her instinct was to extend him a comforting hand, to make some gesture of compassion. But, unsure of how he would receive it, she didnt.
I still cant believe it, he said huskily.
Nor can I.
Hes really gone.
Yes.
Jesus. He sighed heavily and rubbed his fists across his eyes. Such a shockingly violent act. And the audacity of it. Only a guy with nothing to lose would dare it.
Or someone who was certain he could get away with it.
She turned and looked him straight in the eye. Then the elevator doors opened, and she walked through them without looking back.
I gave Ms. Kimball my contact information. Ill be available whenever you need me.
If
she survived the night, she thought. Her exhaustion was such that she could scarcely move, yet going home alone, getting into bed, and turning out the lights wasnt an appealing prospect. With the memory of Pauls gruesome death etched in her mind, how would she ever sleep again?
As though reading her mind, Kimball asked if she had someone to stay with her. Julie shook her head. We could have a policewoman
No thank you, Julie interrupted. Id rather be alone, actually.
The female detective nodded with understanding.
The elevator arrived. Julies heart clutched, but she entered the enclosure and turned to face out. Doug joined her. Sanford divided a remorseful look between them. Please accept my deepest condolences.
Mine as well, Kimball said.
Then the doors closed, leaving Julie and Doug alone. She said, To spare the family embarrassment, Ill keep a respectable distance. She hoped he might argue that decision. He didnt. I have only one request, Doug. Will you allow me to choose the spray for Pauls casket? Her throat seized up, but she refused to weep in front of him. Her gaze remained fixed on the seam between the elevator doors, her head held high, her posture straight. Please.
Of course, Julie.
Thank you.
He made a choking sound, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he was crying silently, his shoulders shaking in an effort to control himself. Her instinct was to extend him a comforting hand, to make some gesture of compassion. But, unsure of how he would receive it, she didnt.
I still cant believe it, he said huskily.
Nor can I.
Hes really gone.
Yes.
Jesus. He sighed heavily and rubbed his fists across his eyes. Such a shockingly violent act. And the audacity of it. Only a guy with nothing to lose would dare it.
Or someone who was certain he could get away with it.
She turned and looked him straight in the eye. Then the elevator doors opened, and she walked through them without looking back.
CHAPTER
3
I
T WAS DECIDED MIDWAY INTO THEIR SECOND BLOODY MARY.
At least his mind was made up, and gauging from the signals she was sending, hers was, too. The conditions werent ideal. It would take some tricky maneuvering, but he happened to be extremely good at tricky maneuvers, and where there was a will
Right now, his
will
was making his seat belt uncomfortable.
Fortunately they were flying first class and not coach. A first-class ticket was almost worth the fortune the airline charged for a transatlantic flight. The leather seats were cushy and roomy. With push-button convenience, the passenger could configure the chair almost any way he wanted it, even recline it flat. It wasnt a Beautyrest, but it beat coach seats, no contest.
Each passenger had his own video system, although he hadnt utilized his yet. The food, for airline fare, had been better than passable. According to his body clock, it was time for breakfast, but the meal hed been served was lunch. During the numerous courses, hed read the European edition of
The New York Times,
which hed picked up at a newsstand during his rush through de Gaulle Airport.
He never arrived early at the airport. Instead, his habit was to get there with barely enough time to check his luggage if need be, get through security, and reach the gate just as boarding was an nounced. He gambled on not making it. The risk added an element of fun to an otherwise tedious process and made air travel tolerable.
The flight attendant had wheedled him into eating a hot fudge sundae, made just for him with his choice of toppings. Hed congratulated himself for the restraint it took to pass on the whipped cream.
From the warm nuts to the rich dessert, lunch service had taken up the first two hours of the flight. With eight more to go, he lowered his window shade as requested to darken the cabin so others could sleep. He switched on his task light, settled more comfortably into his seat, and began reading a new fiction thriller that was number one on the bestseller list. Hed been five chapters into it when the woman in 5C walked past his row on her way to the lavatory.
That wasnt the first time hed noticed her.
As the two of them had shuffled toward the forming line when the first-class passengers were invited to board, theyd made chance eye contact. Theyd glanced away as strangers do, but then each had come back to take a second look. Once onboard, while they were storing their carry-ons in the overhead compartments, he had happened to catch her looking in his direction.
He was aware of her going into the lavatory. He was aware when she came out. He was watching her as she made her way back toward her seat, and was delighted when she paused at his row, leaned across the empty aisle seat beside him, and indicated the novel. I noticed earlier what youre reading. Its good.
Starts off that way.
It gets better as it goes along. She smiled again and was about to move on when he sat forward and detained her by asking, Have you read his others?
Im a fan.
Huh. Interesting.
Why?
Call me a sexist, but isnt his writing directed toward a male readership? Its edgy. Gritty.
Youre a sexist.
He grinned, liking that she was so quick on the uptake.
She added, Some women enjoy edgy and gritty.
You?
I confess.
He motioned toward the empty seat beside him. Can I buy you a drink?
I just finished lunch.
Can I buy you an after-lunch drink?
She glanced toward her seat two rows away and across the aisle, then looked back at him. Bloody Mary?
Thatd be my choice.
She sat down and crossed her legs toward him. Good legs. High heels. No stockings and none necessary. She caught him looking where her hemline stopped just above her knee, but it didnt seem to make her self-conscious. She met his gaze levelly when he raised it back to hers. Very pretty eyes, he noted. Gray. The color of storm clouds above the ocean.
He reached up and pressed the button to summon the flight attendant. Im Derek Mitchell.
I know.
He went warm with pleasure, believing shed recognized him, until she reached across the armrest they shared and touched the boarding pass sticking out of his shirt pocket. His name was clearly legible.
She laughed softly at his chagrin, then asked, Is Atlanta home?
Yes. You?
Yes. What were you doing in Paris? Business, pleasure, or just connecting there from somewhere else?
Pleasure. Sort of. It was my moms sixty-fifth birthday. Shed never seen Paris, so she twisted my dads arm to hold the celebration there, and a whole slew of Mitchells descended on the city.
Large family?
Large enough. At least we left the Parisians thinking so.
Again that soft laugh that was akin to a purr. He wondered if she realized how sexy it was and decided that she did. Of course she did.
Did your mother enjoy herself?
She had a ball. He glanced toward the front of the cabin. The flight attendant was taking her sweet time.
As though reading his mind, his companion stood up and stepped into the aisle. He was afraid she was leaving, but she whispered, Spicy?
Roger that.
As she walked up the aisle he had an excellent rear view. Not just good but pretty damn great. Her black three-piece suit was tailored but feminine. The body-conscious fit bespoke a designer cut. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, which ordinarily wouldnt have attracted him. But somehow, on her, that classic look worked. She had taste and class as well as a sharp wit and sex appeal. And she wasnt wearing a wedding ring.
She returned, followed by the flight attendant carrying a small tray. The flight attendant leaned across her to serve him his glass of ice and Bloody Mary mix and a small bottle of Ketel One. Her drink had already been mixed.
Check back with us, he told the flight attendant.
Will do.
He poured the vodka into his glass, gave it a quick stir with the swizzle stick, then raised his glass. She did likewise. They clinked glasses but held them touching for several moments while they looked closely at each other. Then she glanced up at the task light.
Acting on instinct and without consulting her, he depressed the button on his armrest that turned the light out. Better?
Yes. The glare She spoke in a much lower voice then, as though the absence of the light invited whispering, and she didnt finish whatever it was she was about to say. Instead, she took a sip of her Bloody Mary, a bit nervously he thought. Keeping her head down, she stared into her glass and nudged the floating lime with her swizzle stick. What do you do?
About what?
She raised her head and gave him a look.
He smiled. Attorney.
Corporate?
Criminal.
That got her interest. Turning more toward him, the toe of her shoe brushed the leg of his trousers, and suddenly his calf was an erogenous zone.
Which side? she asked.
Defense.
I would have guessed that.
You would?
Um-huh, she murmured as she took another sip of her drink. Shed looked him over. You dress too well for a man who earns a civil employees salary.
Thank you. And because she was still appraising him, hed said, And?
And you dont look She tilted her head, considering. Righteous enough to be a prosecutor.
He laughed, loud enough to cause the man across the aisle to glance at them and adjust the volume on the earphones bridging his head. Taking the hint, Derek leaned closer to her, bringing his face to within inches of hers. She didnt move away. I dont think anyone would use
righteous
as an adjective to describe me.
So the derogatory lawyer jokes dont offend you?
Hell no. In fact, Im the basis of most of them.
Mindful of the man across the aisle, she clamped her teeth over her lower lip to keep from laughing. Straight teeth. A plush lower lip barely glossed. An overall sexy mouth.
Why criminal law? She was fiddling with the top button of her blouse, and for a moment, the motion of her fingers distracted him.
Criminal law? Thats where the bad guys are.
And you defend the bad guys.
Again he grinned. Profitably.
They continued to chitchat through those first Bloody Marys. They touched on their favorite restaurants in Atlanta, the serious traffic problem, this and that, nothing personal or consequential.
Then out of nowhere she said, I take it youre not married.
No. Im not. What made you think so?
Deductive reasoning. If you were married, even unhappily, your wife would be with you. No woman would pass up a trip to Paris, not even if it meant suffering through the celebration of a mother-in-laws birthday.
My wife could have come along but stayed behind in Paris for some extra sightseeing.
She let that lie a moment, then looked down into her glass and swirled the ice cubes with the tip of the swizzle stick. I doubt a wife would trust you to travel alone.
I look untrustworthy?
A wife wouldnt have trusted other women.
His ego spun drunkenly. He leaned maybe an inch closer. Youre traveling alone, too.
Thats right.
Business or pleasure?
She drained what was left of her drink, then looked down at her left hand, which was noticeably without a wedding band. I went all the way to Paris to catch my husband in bed with his girlfriend.
Bingo,
Derek thought. Hed just won the lottery. Her pride had suffered a blow. She, of the cloud-gray eyes, kissable mouth, great legs, and shapely ass, had been dumped for another woman. She was vulnerable, in search of validation, in desperate need of reassurance that she was still an attractive, alluring woman.
He nodded toward her empty glass. Another?
Her eyes stayed on his, and he could tell she had reached a crossroads. Thank him politely but decline and return to her seat? Or stay and see where this went? She dragged that delectable lower lip through her teeth again, then said, Sure. Why not?
The flight attendant responded more quickly to the summons, and they ordered another round. While they waited, he noticed that the other passengers in the cabin were either already sleeping or deeply engrossed in the feature on their private video screens. The cabin lights had been extinguished except for those marking the exits and lavatories. On the other side of the cabin, an elderly woman was reading by her task light, and it provided only a pinpoint of light.
The flight attendant returned, serving the drinks the same way she had before. How come shes pouring yours? he asked.
She ducked her head shyly, fiddled with the top button on her blouse again. I asked her to. When I went up front, I asked her to pour me doubles.
Foul! he cried in a stage whisper.
I didnt want you to think I was a lush. That was when she pulled the elastic band from her hair and gave her head a shake. Her dark hair fell into a sleek cape around her shoulders. Sighing, she leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. I needed to relax, to let go, to to block my mind from thinking about it.
Tough scene in Paris?
She swallowed with difficulty, and a tear slid from between her eyelids and down her cheek. On a scale of one to ten?
Ten?
Twelve.
Im sorry.
Thank you.
Hes an idiot.
Thank you again. Leaving her head on the headrest, she turned it toward him. I dont want to talk about him.
Neither do I. He paused for a count of ten, then reached out and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the tip of his index finger. What should we talk about?
Never breaking eye contact, she counted to at least twenty, then asked in a husky voice, Do we have to talk?
Her gaze had moved to his mouth, where it remained for several seconds before she looked into his eyes again. And thats when he knew. It was a sure thing. They were going to have sex. And not when they got to Atlanta, either. Right here. Right now.
Hed had friends who boasted of doing it on an airplane. Hed heard the urban legends about in-flight couples being caught in flagrante delicto, but he hadnt given those stories much credence.
From a practical standpoint, it was dicey. For one thing, you had hundreds of chances of being caught, depending on the size of the aircraft and the number of passengers onboard. Venue was another factor, and space was limited no matter where you did the deed.
But the possibility of it had his whole system pumping testosterone.
Especially since his potential partner was looking at him with such naked need, and her eyes hinted at a hot, sexual nature smoldering inside the classy exterior. Maybe she was thinking that her husband had cheated because shed been too reserved in their marriage bed, that she should have let her hair down sooner, acted on impulse, said to hell with inhibitions.
Whatever.
He looked around. The reader had turned off her light. The man across the aisle was dozing through his movie. When Dereks eyes came back to her, they transmitted his willingness with the intensity he used to communicate innocence to a skeptical jury.
She sat her glass on the armrest, then touched his hand with her cold fingertips. It was just a brush across his knuckles, but it was an unmistakable invitation. In an instant she was gone, moving silently up the darkened aisle toward the lavatories at the front of the cabin.
A curtain had been pulled across the galley on the other side of the cabin. No one, neither passengers nor attendants, was looking. Nevertheless, his heart was thudding. Was he nuts? Had he lost his mind completely? Was he really going to do this?
You bet your ass I am.
Because he thrived on high-stakes situations. Because he had a hard-on to beat all hard-ons. Because if a woman ever wanted and needed to be fucked, it was this one. And because of the most fundamental reason: He wanted her.
He unbuckled his seat belt, then painfully stood up and squeezed himself into the aisle, trying not to attract anyones attention or disturb the dozing passengers.
Shed left the lavatory door open a half inch. He slipped into the impossibly small enclosure, then reached behind him to pull the door shut. He made sure it was securely locked.
She was practically sitting in the basin. Shed taken off her suit jacket. The first three buttons of her blouse were undone, giving him a glimpse of cleavage above lacy bra cups.
They looked at each other for maybe ten seconds, then came together like cymbals. Their lips fused in a kiss that was as amorous as any in his recent memory. She took his tongue into her mouth with an eroticism that made him groan from a surge of lust unequaled since adolescence.
T WAS DECIDED MIDWAY INTO THEIR SECOND BLOODY MARY.
At least his mind was made up, and gauging from the signals she was sending, hers was, too. The conditions werent ideal. It would take some tricky maneuvering, but he happened to be extremely good at tricky maneuvers, and where there was a will
Right now, his
will
was making his seat belt uncomfortable.
Fortunately they were flying first class and not coach. A first-class ticket was almost worth the fortune the airline charged for a transatlantic flight. The leather seats were cushy and roomy. With push-button convenience, the passenger could configure the chair almost any way he wanted it, even recline it flat. It wasnt a Beautyrest, but it beat coach seats, no contest.
Each passenger had his own video system, although he hadnt utilized his yet. The food, for airline fare, had been better than passable. According to his body clock, it was time for breakfast, but the meal hed been served was lunch. During the numerous courses, hed read the European edition of
The New York Times,
which hed picked up at a newsstand during his rush through de Gaulle Airport.
He never arrived early at the airport. Instead, his habit was to get there with barely enough time to check his luggage if need be, get through security, and reach the gate just as boarding was an nounced. He gambled on not making it. The risk added an element of fun to an otherwise tedious process and made air travel tolerable.
The flight attendant had wheedled him into eating a hot fudge sundae, made just for him with his choice of toppings. Hed congratulated himself for the restraint it took to pass on the whipped cream.
From the warm nuts to the rich dessert, lunch service had taken up the first two hours of the flight. With eight more to go, he lowered his window shade as requested to darken the cabin so others could sleep. He switched on his task light, settled more comfortably into his seat, and began reading a new fiction thriller that was number one on the bestseller list. Hed been five chapters into it when the woman in 5C walked past his row on her way to the lavatory.
That wasnt the first time hed noticed her.
As the two of them had shuffled toward the forming line when the first-class passengers were invited to board, theyd made chance eye contact. Theyd glanced away as strangers do, but then each had come back to take a second look. Once onboard, while they were storing their carry-ons in the overhead compartments, he had happened to catch her looking in his direction.
He was aware of her going into the lavatory. He was aware when she came out. He was watching her as she made her way back toward her seat, and was delighted when she paused at his row, leaned across the empty aisle seat beside him, and indicated the novel. I noticed earlier what youre reading. Its good.
Starts off that way.
It gets better as it goes along. She smiled again and was about to move on when he sat forward and detained her by asking, Have you read his others?
Im a fan.
Huh. Interesting.
Why?
Call me a sexist, but isnt his writing directed toward a male readership? Its edgy. Gritty.
Youre a sexist.
He grinned, liking that she was so quick on the uptake.
She added, Some women enjoy edgy and gritty.
You?
I confess.
He motioned toward the empty seat beside him. Can I buy you a drink?
I just finished lunch.
Can I buy you an after-lunch drink?
She glanced toward her seat two rows away and across the aisle, then looked back at him. Bloody Mary?
Thatd be my choice.
She sat down and crossed her legs toward him. Good legs. High heels. No stockings and none necessary. She caught him looking where her hemline stopped just above her knee, but it didnt seem to make her self-conscious. She met his gaze levelly when he raised it back to hers. Very pretty eyes, he noted. Gray. The color of storm clouds above the ocean.
He reached up and pressed the button to summon the flight attendant. Im Derek Mitchell.
I know.
He went warm with pleasure, believing shed recognized him, until she reached across the armrest they shared and touched the boarding pass sticking out of his shirt pocket. His name was clearly legible.
She laughed softly at his chagrin, then asked, Is Atlanta home?
Yes. You?
Yes. What were you doing in Paris? Business, pleasure, or just connecting there from somewhere else?
Pleasure. Sort of. It was my moms sixty-fifth birthday. Shed never seen Paris, so she twisted my dads arm to hold the celebration there, and a whole slew of Mitchells descended on the city.
Large family?
Large enough. At least we left the Parisians thinking so.
Again that soft laugh that was akin to a purr. He wondered if she realized how sexy it was and decided that she did. Of course she did.
Did your mother enjoy herself?
She had a ball. He glanced toward the front of the cabin. The flight attendant was taking her sweet time.
As though reading his mind, his companion stood up and stepped into the aisle. He was afraid she was leaving, but she whispered, Spicy?
Roger that.
As she walked up the aisle he had an excellent rear view. Not just good but pretty damn great. Her black three-piece suit was tailored but feminine. The body-conscious fit bespoke a designer cut. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, which ordinarily wouldnt have attracted him. But somehow, on her, that classic look worked. She had taste and class as well as a sharp wit and sex appeal. And she wasnt wearing a wedding ring.
She returned, followed by the flight attendant carrying a small tray. The flight attendant leaned across her to serve him his glass of ice and Bloody Mary mix and a small bottle of Ketel One. Her drink had already been mixed.
Check back with us, he told the flight attendant.
Will do.
He poured the vodka into his glass, gave it a quick stir with the swizzle stick, then raised his glass. She did likewise. They clinked glasses but held them touching for several moments while they looked closely at each other. Then she glanced up at the task light.
Acting on instinct and without consulting her, he depressed the button on his armrest that turned the light out. Better?
Yes. The glare She spoke in a much lower voice then, as though the absence of the light invited whispering, and she didnt finish whatever it was she was about to say. Instead, she took a sip of her Bloody Mary, a bit nervously he thought. Keeping her head down, she stared into her glass and nudged the floating lime with her swizzle stick. What do you do?
About what?
She raised her head and gave him a look.
He smiled. Attorney.
Corporate?
Criminal.
That got her interest. Turning more toward him, the toe of her shoe brushed the leg of his trousers, and suddenly his calf was an erogenous zone.
Which side? she asked.
Defense.
I would have guessed that.
You would?
Um-huh, she murmured as she took another sip of her drink. Shed looked him over. You dress too well for a man who earns a civil employees salary.
Thank you. And because she was still appraising him, hed said, And?
And you dont look She tilted her head, considering. Righteous enough to be a prosecutor.
He laughed, loud enough to cause the man across the aisle to glance at them and adjust the volume on the earphones bridging his head. Taking the hint, Derek leaned closer to her, bringing his face to within inches of hers. She didnt move away. I dont think anyone would use
righteous
as an adjective to describe me.
So the derogatory lawyer jokes dont offend you?
Hell no. In fact, Im the basis of most of them.
Mindful of the man across the aisle, she clamped her teeth over her lower lip to keep from laughing. Straight teeth. A plush lower lip barely glossed. An overall sexy mouth.
Why criminal law? She was fiddling with the top button of her blouse, and for a moment, the motion of her fingers distracted him.
Criminal law? Thats where the bad guys are.
And you defend the bad guys.
Again he grinned. Profitably.
They continued to chitchat through those first Bloody Marys. They touched on their favorite restaurants in Atlanta, the serious traffic problem, this and that, nothing personal or consequential.
Then out of nowhere she said, I take it youre not married.
No. Im not. What made you think so?
Deductive reasoning. If you were married, even unhappily, your wife would be with you. No woman would pass up a trip to Paris, not even if it meant suffering through the celebration of a mother-in-laws birthday.
My wife could have come along but stayed behind in Paris for some extra sightseeing.
She let that lie a moment, then looked down into her glass and swirled the ice cubes with the tip of the swizzle stick. I doubt a wife would trust you to travel alone.
I look untrustworthy?
A wife wouldnt have trusted other women.
His ego spun drunkenly. He leaned maybe an inch closer. Youre traveling alone, too.
Thats right.
Business or pleasure?
She drained what was left of her drink, then looked down at her left hand, which was noticeably without a wedding band. I went all the way to Paris to catch my husband in bed with his girlfriend.
Bingo,
Derek thought. Hed just won the lottery. Her pride had suffered a blow. She, of the cloud-gray eyes, kissable mouth, great legs, and shapely ass, had been dumped for another woman. She was vulnerable, in search of validation, in desperate need of reassurance that she was still an attractive, alluring woman.
He nodded toward her empty glass. Another?
Her eyes stayed on his, and he could tell she had reached a crossroads. Thank him politely but decline and return to her seat? Or stay and see where this went? She dragged that delectable lower lip through her teeth again, then said, Sure. Why not?
The flight attendant responded more quickly to the summons, and they ordered another round. While they waited, he noticed that the other passengers in the cabin were either already sleeping or deeply engrossed in the feature on their private video screens. The cabin lights had been extinguished except for those marking the exits and lavatories. On the other side of the cabin, an elderly woman was reading by her task light, and it provided only a pinpoint of light.
The flight attendant returned, serving the drinks the same way she had before. How come shes pouring yours? he asked.
She ducked her head shyly, fiddled with the top button on her blouse again. I asked her to. When I went up front, I asked her to pour me doubles.
Foul! he cried in a stage whisper.
I didnt want you to think I was a lush. That was when she pulled the elastic band from her hair and gave her head a shake. Her dark hair fell into a sleek cape around her shoulders. Sighing, she leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. I needed to relax, to let go, to to block my mind from thinking about it.
Tough scene in Paris?
She swallowed with difficulty, and a tear slid from between her eyelids and down her cheek. On a scale of one to ten?
Ten?
Twelve.
Im sorry.
Thank you.
Hes an idiot.
Thank you again. Leaving her head on the headrest, she turned it toward him. I dont want to talk about him.
Neither do I. He paused for a count of ten, then reached out and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the tip of his index finger. What should we talk about?
Never breaking eye contact, she counted to at least twenty, then asked in a husky voice, Do we have to talk?
Her gaze had moved to his mouth, where it remained for several seconds before she looked into his eyes again. And thats when he knew. It was a sure thing. They were going to have sex. And not when they got to Atlanta, either. Right here. Right now.
Hed had friends who boasted of doing it on an airplane. Hed heard the urban legends about in-flight couples being caught in flagrante delicto, but he hadnt given those stories much credence.
From a practical standpoint, it was dicey. For one thing, you had hundreds of chances of being caught, depending on the size of the aircraft and the number of passengers onboard. Venue was another factor, and space was limited no matter where you did the deed.
But the possibility of it had his whole system pumping testosterone.
Especially since his potential partner was looking at him with such naked need, and her eyes hinted at a hot, sexual nature smoldering inside the classy exterior. Maybe she was thinking that her husband had cheated because shed been too reserved in their marriage bed, that she should have let her hair down sooner, acted on impulse, said to hell with inhibitions.
Whatever.
He looked around. The reader had turned off her light. The man across the aisle was dozing through his movie. When Dereks eyes came back to her, they transmitted his willingness with the intensity he used to communicate innocence to a skeptical jury.
She sat her glass on the armrest, then touched his hand with her cold fingertips. It was just a brush across his knuckles, but it was an unmistakable invitation. In an instant she was gone, moving silently up the darkened aisle toward the lavatories at the front of the cabin.
A curtain had been pulled across the galley on the other side of the cabin. No one, neither passengers nor attendants, was looking. Nevertheless, his heart was thudding. Was he nuts? Had he lost his mind completely? Was he really going to do this?
You bet your ass I am.
Because he thrived on high-stakes situations. Because he had a hard-on to beat all hard-ons. Because if a woman ever wanted and needed to be fucked, it was this one. And because of the most fundamental reason: He wanted her.
He unbuckled his seat belt, then painfully stood up and squeezed himself into the aisle, trying not to attract anyones attention or disturb the dozing passengers.
Shed left the lavatory door open a half inch. He slipped into the impossibly small enclosure, then reached behind him to pull the door shut. He made sure it was securely locked.
She was practically sitting in the basin. Shed taken off her suit jacket. The first three buttons of her blouse were undone, giving him a glimpse of cleavage above lacy bra cups.
They looked at each other for maybe ten seconds, then came together like cymbals. Their lips fused in a kiss that was as amorous as any in his recent memory. She took his tongue into her mouth with an eroticism that made him groan from a surge of lust unequaled since adolescence.
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A Fractured Light by Jocelyn Davies