Fame Is A Kick In The Ass

FIAKITA Chapter Four

Chapter Four - Elle Hawthorne's P.O.V.

     His lips. 

     Oh my God, they tasted so good. That was my first thought.  

     I started to kiss along with him, Brain shutting down from all the energy that passed between our lips.

     He started moving his hands up and down back and leaning into me.  Let me tell you, those airplane seats aren't comfortable and recline only a few inches.  Oh my God it was like heaven.  The kiss not the seat.  

     Brain must of turned back on because something in me clicked and realized what I was doing.  You don't just kiss a stranger. 

     Instinctively and without much thought, I reached my hand out and brought it across the side of his face.  I didn't quite hit his cheek straight on; I just caught the edge of his jaw.  He still reacted as if I actually hit him hard.  

     He pulled back suddenly, a look of confusion glazed his eyes. 

     "What...?" he started.

     "That's what you get for kissing a married woman!"  I placed my hands on my hips, my legs still on either side of his.'

     He burst out a chuckle.  "What, you're married?! You aren't even wearing a ring!"  he said between his chuckles, eyeing me with suspicion.  

     "Yes, I am married to Johnny Depp the most gorgeous man in the world.  We love each other very much."  Phh...I wish and not as gorgeous as you, seducing young stranger.  SHUT UP BRIAN!!!

     With that, I swung my legs off his lap and started walking to the back of the plane so I could use the restrooms, leaving him with a very funny looking face.  Is he staring at my butt?, I thought as I walked.  I turned and saw his eyes briefly trail with my butt but then quickly looked at the ceiling.  I looked back ahead of me again with a smirk.  Yup, I knew he would.  

     I entered the part of the plane that was separated by a curtain from first class.  It had stiff uncomfortable seats three in a row on each side of the plane.  Some folks were snoring, some reading, and some looking at their little windows.  This must be the poor class, I thought, or second class or whatever.  I passed each row examining the passengers, taking in their features.  None of them looking as gorgeous as Johnny Depp or my creepy yet sexy Australian mystery man.  Ugh, why are you thinking of him! Sigh, the life of Elle Hawthorne is so tough.

     "Elle, wait!" mystery man's voice came from behind me.  

     My face twisted into confusion but I still walked towards the back of the plane, my pace gradually slowing.  "Okay Mr. Creeper, how do you know my name?"

     "You are wearing a necklace that says Elle on it.  I'm sure you wouldn't wear a necklace with a name on it that isn't yours."  he stated.  Oh shoot, I forgot I wore that today. 

      "Okay so. . . fine.  You know my name.  Now tell me yours."

     We had reached the back of the plane where we stood at the end of the mile-long line for the god-forsaken bathroom-the-size-of-my-cat's-litter-box.  Once I stopped behind a middle-aged man with a nasty back hair peeking out from under his Harley Davidson t-shirt, I spun on my heel to face him.

     "No, don't tell me," I said quickly, "I'll guess. . . is it Joesph?"

     Before he gave me a dazzling half-smile, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.  "No."