Under Control (FreenBecky)

Chapter 13: The Nerves

We were in the air for four hours, and all this time, as soon as I started to get nervous, I immediately felt her support, and I was incredibly grateful to her for that.

Several times our aircraft fell into a zone of turbulence, the first time this happened, terribly frightened by the sharp shake, I myself, in a panic, grabbed her hand, to which she only smiled warmly at my so open reaction.

"Shh" the girl whispered, calming me down like a child.

"I'll hitchhike back. I can't bear this kind of torture anymore" I howled, throwing my head back slightly, wanting to turn my gaze to the sky, to the gods who supposedly arranged this torture for me, and where, one wonders, I managed to mess up like that?! I sat in my office and didn't bother anyone!

Half an hour later, our plane, fortunately, apparently all my prayers were heard, successfully landed at the Kelowna airport. The temperature outside was +2 degrees Celsius, so we left the plane equipped with jackets and hats in advance.

The sight of Becky in a thin milky knitted hat hanging at the back of her head, with unruly hair sticking out from under it, tousled during the flight, caused me a wild emotion, which I had not yet dared to show in any way.

Her behavior alarmed me with its mystery. Either she played with me, putting on the mask of a predatory seductress, then she suddenly took it off, without hesitation, demonstrating her care and tenderness, or maybe the mask was just the latter, and all this feigned softness is nothing more than good acting. As a result, completely confused, trying to unravel her true essence, I decided to let everything take its course, and, if possible, restrain my emotions raging next to her.

Having gone through all the necessary controls at the airport, we went out onto the street where a black Range Rover was waiting for us. The driver placed our modestly sized bags in the trunk, and we sat down on the wide seats, upholstered in brown perforated leather, and continued on our way to our destination.

We drove for about an hour, all this time I did not take my eyes off the window, admiring the stunning scenery. The road often twisted between mountain ranges and I was a little sick from fatigue, so I, trying not to move, sat staring at one point, afraid to once again disturb my already shaky vestibular apparatus.

Soon the car stopped near a small, but very interestingly designed hotel. We left. I looked around with interest, greedily absorbing the beauty of the area, lagging behind my companions, who were already entering the hotel lobby. When I caught up with them, Becky was already holding the number card in her hand; when she saw me, she winked predatorily, defiantly raising it to my eye level, making it clear that we were sharing the same room. Despite the fact that I had not thought about this before, apparently I simply did not have time to do it, it was not a surprise for me, because such a turn was completely justified.

Our room was located on the sixth floor, using the card we went inside. The room turned out to be quite large, containing three spacious rooms, the first of which was a living room, equipped, although ultra-modern, but quite standard, then came the bedroom, to my great relief, having two beds separated by a small bedside table, followed by a luxurious lounge: the fireplace, carefully lit by someone, was mesmerizingly crackling with its logs, in the corner there was a wide sofa, in front of the fireplace there was a large fluffy carpet in the shape of an animal skin, on it there was a carved rocking chair covered with a woolen blanket, and a huge panoramic view diluted the whole atmosphere of comfort a window stretching across the entire wall, providing a truly magical picture of snow-strewn mountain slopes shining in the sun. There was a bar in the corner of the room stocked with several types of booze. In general, this room contained everything necessary for quality relaxation, embodying the dream of every average American.