Playboy Pilot (12 page)

Oh my God.

He’d bought me a ticket.

He wanted me here.

He must have thought I’d been ignoring him.

Sweat started to permeate me. My heart felt like it was going to burst.

Unable to see past the line of people waiting to exit the aircraft, I stretched my neck to search for him.

There he was, standing tall at the front of the plane with one hand crossed over the other as people thanked him for landing the plane safely.

He didn’t look like the Carter I knew. His eyes were dark and empty as he nodded to them, going through the motions.

It seemed to take forever to get to the front. With every step forward, my pulse raced faster. Only a few more steps to him.

Someone had asked him a question and in the middle of answering, he stopped mid-sentence when he finally turned and saw me standing there. For a few seconds, he froze in apparent shock. His chest was rising and falling as his breathing quickened. Then, the previously sullen look on his face slowly gave way to a massive smile.

This was one of those times in life where words were not necessary. Carter slowly shook his head in disbelief, looking deliriously happy. Did I still have my doubts about his intentions? Yes. But he sure as hell couldn’t have faked the look of genuine happiness on his face in that moment.

We just stood there staring at each other for several seconds. All of the passengers had exited the plane, but the crew was still scattered about.

Carter leaned in and whispered, “I see you got my texts.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. My phone died shortly after dropping you off. I only saw those texts just now. I ended up rushing back and buying my own ticket.”

His eyeballs were moving back and forth as he processed that. “Perky…” He paused.

“What?” I smiled.

“I don’t know what this is.”

“Neither do I. I—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I don’t know what the fuck is happening here, but when I thought you were gone, it felt way worse than it should’ve after only knowing someone for two days. So, I don’t know what this is. I just know I want more of it.”

He looked around then placed his hand around my waist, leading me into the cockpit and shutting the door behind us.

“I can’t believe you really came.” In an instant, I was against the wall as he pressed his lips hard against mine and groaned into my mouth. I opened wide for him and relished the flavor that I’d only experienced once before—the one I thought I’d never get to taste again. Our tongues desperately explored as I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged at it.

He pulled back first. “I needed this so badly.”

Panting, I said, “That was a long fourteen hours.”

He tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “Listen, part of the reason I just attacked you like you’re my last meal…is because of where we are, okay?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Once we are off this plane and in public, we’re not allowed to touch.”

“What do you mean?”

“Things are very different in Dubai. We’re not allowed to show affection in public. We could literally get arrested. Even married people can only hold hands. Kissing or even hugging for them is considered indecent.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You can’t swear in public, either. It’s a criminal offense.”

“Jesus, I need a drink.”

“That’s another thing. We’re only allowed to drink in hotels and clubs here.” He looked me up and down. “We need to cover you up before we go out there, too. I hope you brought that bra I bought you.”

“It’s in my suitcase.”

He took off his jacket. “Take this for now. We have to get out of here.”

Carter placed his hand on the small of my back and led me out of the cockpit.

“Where are we headed?”

He winked and flashed a mischievous grin. “I might know of a little hideaway.”

MY USUAL HIDEAWAY
was booked solid. Amari had offered me the couch free of charge until one of his three bedrooms freed up the next morning. If I were alone, I’d have taken him up on it, knowing I was going to crash and be dead to the world when I got there anyway. But Kendall deserved better than sharing a couch while random strangers came and went. Plus, even the thought of anyone checking her out while she slept in her little thin nightshirt riled me up. Rather than take a chance on trying somewhere new in a place like Dubai, I took a room at the hotel the airline put the crew up in. It sure as shit wasn’t ideal, but it was safe, and I needed to get some sleep.

Outside of the airport, I steered Kendall away from the airline employee van that would have taken us to the Hilton Dubai Jumeirah Resort with the rest of the crew. I didn’t want her exposed to any more of my past indiscretions than she already had been. At the cab line, we managed to find a shared van without too much of a wait. Kendall and I sat in the rear bench seat, and the other rows were filled with people speaking something I thought might be Farsi.

The back of the seat in front of us held a plastic pouch filled with laminated
Local Laws of Dubai
pamphlets in different languages. I’d perused them before and figured Kendall would get a kick out it. Slipping the English version out of the seatback, I held it and pointed to the first rule:
No public displays of affection. This includes kissing, cuddling, and hand holding.
Her palm was flat on the seat. I checked that no one was paying attention and then slipped my hand over hers, weaving our fingers together. She gave me a sidelong look with a gleam in her eye.

Keeping her left hand entwined with mine, she reached over with her right and took the law card out of my hand. She set it on the seat and silently pointed to the second rule:
Clothing should be conservative. Females must avoid wearing transparent, low cut, or short clothing. Stomach, shoulders, and back must be covered. Men must cover their chest and shall not display their underwear.
She looked straight ahead, making sure that no one in the rows above us were watching, and then slowly began to hike up the skirt on the sundress she was wearing. Knowing it was illegal, and following the slow, sensual movement of her hand as she inched it up little by little, it took everything I had to stifle a groan. By the time she reached the very top of her thigh, I had to shift in my seat. I’d seen her in a fucking bikini, but this…sneaking while people were right there, was purely erotic.

With entwined hands, her skirt pushed up barely covering her underwear, she handed the card to me. Not wanting to draw attention to us by acting strange, and needing a minute to slow the swell of my cock, I spent a minute looking outside the window, pretending to be interested in anything other than the sight of her thighs and the feel of our skin on skin. Then I pointed to rule six on the card:
No foul language or indecent gestures whatsoever will be tolerated.
I waited until the driver was busy merging onto the highway and the family in front of us was deep in a loud conversation. Then I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “My cock is rock hard wondering if I pushed that skirt up a little higher, if you would stop me.”

She gasped; luckily no one seemed to notice. A few minutes later, we were already getting off the highway, and I knew we weren’t far from our hotel. Kendall turned the rule card in her direction and looked up at me with a devilish grin that said,
what other rules could we break?
She browsed the list once again and then caught my eye as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth before pointing to rule number nine:
Sex outside of marriage is not permitted in Dubai, and it is a fact that this law applies to visitors no matter where you are from.

There wasn’t a law in this damn country I wasn’t going to try my hardest to break while I was here.

UNFORTUNATELY, THE EXCITEMENT
and sexual build up from the van ride didn’t last long. The Hilton hotel lobby was fairly empty when we arrived. Except…for a few flight attendants I’d rather have not run into. When two of them approached, I wanted so much to pull Kendall close to me, wrap my arm around her possessively to offer some sort of physical reassurance, but I also didn’t want to get her in trouble with the law. These people in Arab countries didn’t screw around. A few months back, two British flight attendants from a different airline were jailed for ninety days because they were caught sexting each other.
Three fucking months
.

“Trip,” Jolene purred. “I wasn’t sure you would be here for this layover.” Standing next to Kendall, being with Jolene felt like a lifetime ago. But the reality was, it wasn’t. It was less than a month ago that we were fucking in this very hotel.

Kendall stiffened when Jolene moved closer to me. She spoke quietly but loud enough that both Kendall and I could hear as she slipped a keycard into my lapel pocket. “If you want company later, I’m in room 4030. Lana is next door to me this time, so at least we won’t get complaints about all the banging and loud noises again.” I took a step back away from her, and Jolene noticed Kendall for the first time. “Who are you? Oh…from the plane, right?”

Kendall stared at Jolene. At first, I thought Kendall was going to be upset. But then I caught the fire in her eyes.
She was pissed.
Although she plastered on a fake smile and extended her hand with a heavy Texan accent I’d never heard before, “Kendall Sparks, nice to meet you.”

Jolene reluctantly gave her hand. Once Kendall had Jolene’s hand in hers, she held it and leaned in. “I’m Carter’s personal therapist. I’m afraid he’s on hiatus from
banging
and
loud noises
for a while. Stress-induced erectile dysfunction.” Kendall took the keycard from my pocket and held it out to Jolene. “He won’t be visiting room 4030.” Jolene’s mouth was hanging open as we walked away.

“You know my manhood needs to prove that everything you said back there was bullshit.”

“Maybe if you kept it in your pants once in a while, your manhood would get that opportunity someday.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Perky. I’m going to hold you to that.”

My layover was three nights in Dubai this time, but I told Kendall to only take a room for tonight when we checked in. I hated that we weren’t sharing a room like at Maria Rosa’s. But at least this shit was only for one night. Once we were at Amari’s tomorrow, there would be no eyes watching anymore.