"It's a pound of flesh but it's really a ton. 99 problems and a bitch ain't one."- Hugo, 99 Problems
Jacko
I hated flying. Give me the ground, the wind in the short strands of hair as it flung wildly from the bottom of my helmet, and we were all gravy. Put me in a metal death trap at upwards of 35,000ft with a bunch of people who could've potentially pissed off a witch at some stage of their life and I was anything but confident.
Sarin casually flipped the pages of a magazine she'd bought at the overpriced excuse for a gift-shop before takeoff and TinTin was already on his third tiny bottle of alcohol. Across the aisle, 8-ball snored away with his earbuds tucked securely in his ears, but the faint distraction of whatever free movie they'd graced us with was doing nothing for my nerves.
"Can I get you anything else?" The perky flight attendant with eyes for the grumpy blond, leaned over the seat as TinTin took his last sip.
He set the plastic cup down and flashed her his cocky smile. "Nah, Honey, you've given me plenty this ride. All mile high, all the way." He winked.
"If you need anything else, just press my button." She flashed another smile as she headed down the aisle and looked over her shoulder back at his seat.
"Just fuck the poor girl and put her out of her misery, Tin," Sarin joked without looking up from her magazine.
"Cat-fucking-nip," TinTin replied with a grin.
"Yeah well it's a good thing she isn't the pilot cause our asses would've crashed the minute she all but melted over the seat fabric," Sarin teased as she looked over at him. She cast a glance in my direction as I ran a hand through my disheveled hair. "You good?" she asked, but I didn't respond.
The minute the fasten seatbelt light pinged off, I was up and pushing past TinTin and Sarin to head to the bathroom. The nervous sweat puddled on the top of my upper lip and I was desperate to get a moment to myself. Fuck takin' a piss in this pitiful excuse for a bathroom... I can't even raise my elbows without knockin' the shit outta them on the wall. Leaning over the small sink, I splashed my face with a handful of water and tried to take several deep breaths as a soft knock rumbled the door.
"Fuckin' occupied. Read the damn sign!" I snapped, just as another knock followed. Irritated beyond belief, I got ready to shout again, but her sweet voice broke the tension.
"Jackson, it's me." When I slid the door open, Sarin frowned. "I can read a damn sign too. Drink this." She thrust a small plastic cup of something red and fizzy towards me and I shook my head.
"Hard pass."
She pushed it towards me again as she filled the rest of the small space and pulled the door closed the best she could behind her. What little space I had before her presence decreased, and immediately, we were like tiny sardines stuffed into a can.
"There's no way in hell we're joinin' the mile high club if that's what you're thinkin'," I sassed.
She laughed, causing her head to bang back against the door. She let out the cutest huff as she rubbed the back of her hair with her free hand before offering me the drink a third time. "You're stressed and probably getting dehydrated. Drink this..... It's just cranberry juice and seltzer, and even if I was the type of girl to service a man on an airplane, this floor's nasty." She smirked. "No way I'm getting on my knees in here. That's a hard pass," she joked, but just that joke caused my pants to stir. Fuckin' great. Now I have the mental image of her on her knees to add to my cluttered thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Devils & Daughters (An MC Romance)
Chick-Lit(Leather & Lace, Book 3) "We've been doin' this dance for years, beautiful. I step forward, you step back, but we can't seem to come together. I think we've had enough fuckin' foreplay." Jackson "Jacko" James is the King, in a deadly world where men...
