The Masseuse (18 page)

I
t turned out Alec was crazy. There was no other reason for him to wake before dawn and go down to the building’s gym to exercise. He seemed nervous about the day, like he needed to burn off steam. And though I didn’t know what kind of work he had to do in New York, I wasn’t alert enough to ask. While he burned, I slept, and an hour later he was practically rolling me out of bed.

Just after six a.m. we were headed toward the airport down side roads. I was wearing black jeans and a bright pink halter and had dug a sweater out of my Baltimore box in anticipation of the cold weather. I glared at him across the car, clean-shaven and gorgeous in his tailored suit, and silently cursed people who didn’t need caffeine to form coherent sentences before noon.

When we reached the airport, he drove behind the terminals, in through a back gate where he had to show his ID, and then on a narrow road that cut across a runway. Before us, giant dome-shaped hangars had been opened to reveal jets of various sizes and schematics. Some were silver, others black. The wings on some fanned up at the ends, while others had broader bodies and round noses.

“We’re taking one of those?” I asked, no longer in need of coffee. I was definitely awake now.

“Have you ever been on a private jet?”

I turned to look at him. “Aside from the last time I went to Tahiti for the weekend, no. Normally I stick to travel by Kia.”

I expected him to laugh, but instead he exhaled, shoulders falling an inch. I hadn’t realized he was so tense. Maybe there was more to that morning sweat session than I’d thought.

We passed a black limo, parked right beside a sleek silver plane, and a man in a suit opening the door for two women.

“Celebrities?” I asked, wishing he’d slow down.

“Probably not,” he said. “These planes are all owned privately. The ones down there,” he pointed down the row, “are chartered by individuals and corporations for events.”

“Rent-a-jets,” I said. He chuckled. “Are these all owned by Mr. Stein?”

A serious look came over him. “No, these are our competitors’.”

We passed three more hangars with sleek silver planes inside. They may have been smaller than the rest, but they looked fast and powerful.

“Private aviation is cutthroat right now,” he said. “Manufacturing was expensive even before the price of oil went sky-high. A lot of U.S. clients have turned to commercial travel to cut costs. Some of these people would pay a lot of money to bring down Force Enterprises.”

The underground world of plane wars. I imagined men in thousand-dollar suits sneaking around with shiny silver guns like James Bond.

“Do they want to buy the company?”

“Or steal it.”

“Is that what your meeting is about today?”

His head jerked in my direction.

“Is the company in trouble?” I clarified. “You said you’re losing clients.” That would explain the tension.

“No,” he answered quickly. “A lot of our biggest clients are oil manufacturers. As long as planes need gas to fly, we’re in good shape.”

“What else would they use?” I asked. “Fairy dust?”

He smiled tightly.

“So what
is
this meeting about?” I wondered if he was being purposely vague.

“I’m checking in with one of Max’s lawyers.”

I waited for more, but he was obviously preoccupied. According to Ms. Rowe, Maxim’s wife stayed in New York; maybe he’d sent Alec to negotiate his next divorce.

A small plane facing the opposite direction accelerated down the runway beside us. The sound of the engine was loud enough to make me clap my hands over my ears.

Alec shifted in his seat, keeping his eyes on the road. His thumb had begun to tap the steering wheel. It became clear to me then what the problem was, the source of his anxiety.

The man who worked for a company that built jets was afraid of flying.

Curiously, I examined him as he pulled into the next hangar, one that boasted a large sign over the entrance, ten feet in diameter, of a jet flying through a black circle. Alec was definitely pale, and though he leaned back in his seat, a thin line of perspiration had dewed on his hairline.

Well, this is going to be interesting.

Before us was a white jet, sleek and powerful with its twin engines and nearly eighty-foot wingspan. Six oval windows lined the body of the aircraft, and the tail fanned like that of a whale. The door to the cabin was already open, and a male pilot in a blue suit waved from the steps that unfolded to the ground. Max returned a curt nod.

“It’s a Force 250,” he said as he parked near the edge of the large steel garage. “Max’s personal jet. It can travel from here to India without refueling.” He didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic about this statistic.

“It looks fast.”

He took a deep breath. “Mach .88.”

“Okay. That’s fast.”

We admired it from the safety of his car for one more moment, listening to the powerful thrum of the boosters. The plane appeared to be all ready to go. I assumed all the pilot was waiting on was the passengers.

“Does Max know you’re afraid of flying?” I asked.

He glanced at me, then back to the plane. After a moment he laughed dryly and raked a hand over his skull.

“No, I don’t suppose he does.”

If there had been an option to drive, I was certain Alec would have explored it. Clearly, since we were still here, we were getting on the plane. I felt a little guilty for my excitement, knowing how Alec felt about it. Without another word, he got out and carried our bags from the car—my suitcase, his duffle bag, and a leather briefcase that added a sexy nerd appeal to his animal magnetism.

I followed Alec up the stairs of the plane and smiled as he introduced me to the pilot—Jim, a thin man in his fifties with a sunburned nose. He took our bags and retreated to the cockpit, and I took a look around the cabin. On one side stretched a long beige leather couch. On the other, matching recliners faced each other. Small wooden tables were fixed to the walls, and the windows were adorned with curtains—real curtains, not the pull-down screens like on commercial flights. Even the floor was carpeted.

“This is nicer than my apartment,” I said.

A woman in her thirties wearing a short black sleeveless dress emerged from the back. Her blonde hair was neatly fastened behind her neck, and when she saw me with Alec, her smile faltered, just for a second.

“Good morning, Alec. I didn’t realize you’d have company today.” Her gaze lingered on his mouth, and her tongue wet her lips.

A sudden urge to claim him reared up inside of me. I didn’t know how well they knew each other, but I didn’t like the way she was looking at him. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and slid it down the smooth material of his suit coat and the muscles beneath.

Alec never faltered. “Jennifer, this is my girlfriend, Anna.”

Her mouth pinched at the corners. I hesitated before shaking her outstretched hand; it was the first time he’d made a public declaration about our relationship status. It surprised me how much I liked it.

“Can I get you a bourbon?” Jennifer asked him.

I laughed. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning.”

Her chin tilted in my direction.

“Nothing for me right now, thanks,” Alec told her.

She looked surprised. “Anything for you, Anna?”

“Coffee,” I said. “Alec practically had to drag me out of bed this morning.”

“I can think of worse things,” she said smoothly. “Espresso all right? I can have it ready by the time we’re airborne.”

“Sure. That’ll be fine.” Espresso on a private jet? Amy was going to flip out. I made a mental note to call her. When Derrick told her why I wasn’t at work, she was going to worry.

Jim’s voice came over the intercom: “Once we’re all settled in, we’re good to go. Should have smooth sailing today. Estimated flight time is just under two hours.”

As Jennifer latched the heavy metal door, Alec led me to a seat, one of the two that faced each other. He reached between the cushions for his seat belt and closed the open curtains.

“Did you sleep with her?” I whispered.

His brows lifted. “Not that I can remember.”

I kicked him.

“No,” he said, rubbing his knee. “Why?”

I gave my best pouty look. “I didn’t realize you’d have company today,” I mimicked.

His eyes took on a wicked gleam. “Keep it up and I’ll spank you again.”

The memory of his hand stroking my blushing skin jolted through me like lightning, but a scowl tightened Alec’s features as the engine began to rumble. Jim eased out of the garage, taking us into the early morning light.

“Flight attendant, please take your seat,” Jim said over the speaker. “Please turn off all electronic devices until we’re up in the air.”

I snagged my phone from my purse and, before I turned it off, sent a quick text to Amy:
Going on a business trip to NY with Alec. Call u when we land.
I clicked the phone off.

Reluctantly, Jennifer departed to the front of the plane, closing the door to the pilot’s cabin behind her, and leaving us completely alone.

“It really isn’t fair what you do to women,” I told him, watching her go. “She’s all tied up in knots over you.”

The crease between his brows deepened. “You should put on your seat belt.”

I leaned forward across the space between us.

“Air travel is safer than driving a car,” I told him.

“I’m driving the car,” he muttered. “I’m not flying the plane.”

I put my hands on his knees, stilling his right heel from tapping a hole through the floorboards. “So it’s about control.”

“It’s about 75,000 pounds of metal floating 45,000 feet above the ground.”

The poor guy took off his jacket and tossed it haphazardly on the couch across the aisle. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt.

“What happens when you fly with other people?” I inquired.

He glanced out the window quickly, as if to check the status of the wing, and then reclosed the curtain.

“I drink. Heavily.”

That explained the bourbon offer. “But not today?”

“This meeting’s important,” he said.

I felt terrible for him. I wished there was something I could do to take away some of his anxiety.

There was
something
I could do.

I slid out of the chair and kneeled on the floor.

“What are you doing?” he asked sharply. “Get back in your seat.”

The intercom clicked on. “We’ve been cleared for takeoff. Please make sure your seat belts are fastened until we reach our cruising altitude.”

“Did you hear that?” Alec asked. I almost giggled. The guy who played by no one’s rules was suddenly very concerned about my seat belt.

“Is Jim a good pilot?” I asked.

“The best.”

“Good,” I said. “Then I have nothing to worry about.”

He started to object, but I reached for his belt. I didn’t get far; he stopped my hands with his hard grip. His heel resumed its tapping as the plane turned down one of the runways.

“The key is focusing on something else.” I rotated my wrists and his hold loosened slightly. “Let me distract you.”

“Anna . . .”

I worked myself free and unbuckled his belt. I knew Jennifer was just behind a door, ten feet away, and would come out as soon as the plane leveled in the sky. I also knew it wasn’t safe to mess around in the middle of takeoff, but it only added to the thrill. I could feel the recklessness beginning to pump through my veins as I unbuttoned the top of his pants and lowered the zipper one click at a time.

The engine roared as the plane picked up speed. Since I was facing the back of the cabin, the pressure pushed me forward into his lap. I braced my knees against the seat, leaning my elbows on his thighs. As I skimmed my knuckles over his erection, still tucked within his navy boxer briefs, his hands gripped the armrests, flexing then fisting.

His breath came out in a stutter.

“Have you ever tried this before? On a plane, I mean.” I slipped my hand up his shirt, spreading my fingers over his rigid abs. I loved his body. I worshipped it.

He shook his head.

I looked up at him through my lashes, and then peeled his palm from his knee and placed it on my cheek. Slowly, I drew one of his fingers into my mouth, sucking it, feeling it with my tongue, scraping it lightly with my teeth.

His lips parted as his chest began to rise and fall. His eyes grew dark and hungry. Outside the wind began to rush by as the nose of the plane lifted off the ground. His gaze shot to the window, then back to me.

Focus on me.

“I’m going to put your cock in my mouth, Alec.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Do you want that?” I asked, slipping my fingertips into the waistband of his briefs and inching them down slowly. He lifted his hips to help.

The wheels rose off the ground. We were airborne.

“Look at me,” I snapped, jerking the fabric the rest of the way down and setting his cock free. It stood from his body, thick and glorious, skin stretched taut. The head was swollen and deep red, and moisture dewed from the tip. Just looking at it made my body clench in need. What I would have given to crawl into his lap, straddle his hips, and ride him straight into the mile-high club.

But first, I wanted this.

“So hard,” I murmured, running my fingertips down his length. “I want to taste it. I’ve fantasized about you like this.”

I licked him from stem to tip, one long pull with the back of my tongue.

He stared down at me, lust in his eyes, and I knew I had him.

I wrapped my fingers around the base of his shaft, giving him a hard squeeze before massaging his balls in my other hand. There wasn’t enough time to make this last like I wanted, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t give him every ounce of pleasure I could.

With the tip of my tongue, I swirled around the head, tasting the slippery, musky liquid. The response it evoked was instantaneous. My eyes drifted closed. My stomach tightened. The plane hit a bump, and for a split second it felt as if we were cresting the top of a roller coaster. His breath caught, and I pulled him into my mouth, nestled the smooth head of his penis over the back of my tongue, and sucked.