Chapter 17

In a slow amble toward the lounge lavatory, I cast a glance over my shoulder. Chandler’s watching.

What am I doing? Getting all carried away—swept up in the madness of Flight Club.

He’s just so gorgeous ...

I mean this is Chandler Graves—couldn’t never be more than a quickie anyway, right? I’m a nobody from the swamplands.

From the middle of the lounge, his gaze fixes hard onto mine with a pair of bedroom eyes that could melt panties, jockstraps, and anything in between. A passenger approaches him. Casually, Chandler brushes the man off and follows my path.

Both lavatories are occupied. I linger in the foyer, leaning my shoulder to the wall, my back toward Chandler and fidget with a button on my blazer. My heart presses against my ribs, swelling, thumping. I don’t have to look to know when he arrives behind me. His woodsy aftershave and statuesque presence send shivers down my back. His warm breath ripples over the exposed skin at the nape of my neck.

Aw hell…

My body responds: my thighs achy with need, my breasts, ripe and aware.

I angle my head toward him. I can’t believe it’s really Chandler Graves hovering behind me. I can’t believe how much I want his hands on me.

“Is this what I think it is?” Chandler whispers.

Ecstasy careens over my skin. I wince. I need that lavatory to open up now.

Discreetly, I reach my hand back until I feel Chandler’s fingers. Lightly, I graze them with my own. “Only if you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”

I ain’t facing him, but images of his sturdy broad shoulders and toned forearms linger fresh on my mind. They must feel so firm, so masculine.

A lavatory door slides open.

Mrs. Dong steps out, notices me and nods. “Thank you very much for all your help,” she says in a thick Mandarin accent. “My husband sleeping now.”

I flash her a grin, and for some odd reason my posture straightens. Look alive, soldier.

As soon as she’s gone, I slip into the lavatory, my eyes locked with Chandler’s, and gesture for him to join me.

Swoosh! The door shuts.

My insides whip themselves into a nice frothy batter. I sigh and groan at the same time, adrenaline coursing through me.

I start the dry shower with the steam option and vapor fills the stall. I can’t get my blazer off fast enough, every button awkward beneath my fingers. Once it falls to the floor, my blouse comes off next. Dear God, if Chandler Graves ain’t the person opening that door next, someone’s getting a helluva free show.

What if he doesn’t open it at all? What if I jumped the gun? Or if he’s not interested? Dang, what if he didn’t decipher my come-hither undertones…

Swoosh!

The door slides open.

Shivers vibrate up my spine.

Ninja-like, Chandler enters in one swift maneuver before hitting the door-close button with his fist. It slides shut. He grins. He’s done this before. Or has he? He’s a champion surfer after all—agile, flexible, athletic. And that body… swoon.

He’s even likable. Real, and down to earth. Maybe even lovable… in another life. For girls like me, this is all I’m allowed to have. It’s not even about the job no more.

I step inside the shower stall with his pointed gaze on me. Steam caresses my bare skin. I let down my hair, shake it out, then remove my pink lace bra and toss it onto the floor. The only thing covering my heaving bare chest is his stare.

His lids heavy, complexion flushed, Chandler moves toward the stall.

Mist swirls up and around my half-naked body. I lift my chin, angle my neck, showing myself to him. Slowly, I step back farther into the steamy stall.

Snap!

The frosted doors shut. I giggle to myself. A good tease is the best kind of foreplay.

I slide off my hose and toss them over the door at Chandler. Warm steam kisses my flesh. I close my eyes, soak it in.

The stall doors open.

Droplets of condensation make my nipples pucker. Mist collects over my chest, stomach, and thighs. I back up as Chandler steps in, our gazes locked through the steam.

My hair mats to my neck and back. I lean up against the wall and my body quivers.

Chandler peels off his shirt. His lean torso glistens. Muscles ripple from pecs to abs. My gaze lingers on the trail of hair that disappears beneath the waist of his pants. 

I can’t believe how much I want this. My mouth is watering. I turn and shield my body with steam, peeking once over my shoulder. Chandler joins me in the veil of mist and my heart wants to leap from my chest. Squeezing, pumping, my breath comes shallow and fast.

Chandler wraps his arms around me from behind, nuzzles his scruffy face into the crook of my neck. “You’re a siren. Bewitching me.”

My stomach tightens. I lean back onto his rock-hard body.

His hands travel up my stomach, over my breasts. He cups them firmly at first, then in gentle caresses. 

I gasp with hyper-awareness.

“I shouldn’t be here like this,” he says softly, then kisses my shoulder. “I… took a vow.”

I freeze, my body tingling. “Wait. What kind of vow?”

He can’t be married, can he? The whole world would know about it. Oh, please no.

Chandler nuzzles my neck again, prickling my skin with stubbles. “Of celibacy.”

“What… why?” I turn and stare up into those sensual blue eyes.

He rubs a hand across my cheek. “To change my life, add some value to it again.”

I ain’t sure what to say. Value? What’s he suggesting? Instinctively, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, don’t be. You’re incredible. I came in here because…” He shakes his head to himself, makes a faint shrug. “I don’t know why I came in here. I shouldn’t have… there’s just something about you. How could I resist?”

What? He can have any woman in the world? This is nonsense.

Chandler leans in and kisses my lips, deep and slow, and it’s like sweet nectar.

My body wants to explode. Magic and exhilaration intertwined. I hardly know him but…

I pull away, staring up into his sober face.

“Why does this feel so right?” I ask.

We stare at each other a few long seconds and I wonder if it’s a dream.

“If ever there was a right moment to break a vow,” he whispers, “this is it.”

He moves my arms from my chest and brings them in around his neck. His fingers brush over my nipples.

“I don’t wanna be the reason…” I start.

Chandler slides his hands around my back, pulls me to him, and sets his lips to one side of my neck. Slowly, he moves his lips along my shoulder, ignoring my words. Neither one of us seems to be doing much resisting.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

No sooner do I speak, than his mouth finds mine again.

I guess so.

So soft, so luscious are his lips. I feed on them like they may disappear. Delicate tastes, insatiable probing, our mouths work together. Hands fondling and caressing bare skin. He pulls his lips from mine, fixes a needy gaze on me, then kisses my cheek, my forehead. Just when it feels like I may collapse from ecstasy, he returns those exquisite lips to mine again. 

I reach behind me, turn off the steam, and start the lavender mist. The air slowly clears. Our bodies become drenched in fragrant essence and I know I can’t stop him now. Chandler moves his lips down my neck, and with one hand at the small of my back, arches my body forward and devours my breasts, one by one. 

I moan, urgent and aching. I slip my fingers through his hair, grab, pull. I want his lips back on mine. No, I want them where they are.

He must be some kind of expert on how much the female body can handle before imploding, because all at once Chandler leaves my breasts and moves his lips down over my stomach, lower, and lower still. He leaves heated breath over my upper thighs, and plants an ardent kiss on my hip. 

I pull him up so I can have his mouth on mine again. Just as my tongue finds his, I drop to my knees and unbutton his pants. His skin tastes of lavender, faint and sweet, and I know I’m pleasing him by the sound of his groan. I’m maddened with determination to make pure magic. 

“Wait.” Chandler pulls me to my feet and pushes my back against the tiles.

I can’t help but grin. The way his biceps flex with his movements, the layer of moisture that makes them glisten. The way the veins of his neck pulse with physical demand. 

“I’m not that selfish,” Chandler whispers at my cheek, before kissing my ear and neck. “Relax. Allow me… Let’s make it something we’ll never forget.”

If this is all it can ever be, it’s enough. Pure gold.

“Just for today,” I reply, melting into the thrills from his stubble on my flesh. “Our little secret, mine and yours.”

He flips me around. I reach for the tiles and press my open palms against them for support. I can’t admire his hot body from this position, but I do get to relish what he does to mine. Every touch, every second. 

His hand on my hips, Chandler pulls me to him and reaches around to my stomach. Lower, and lower. With careful fingers he strokes my most secret places and I lean into it. This perfect moment, this supreme night of my life. My eyes close. His fingers beckon the flow of my honey. 

I move in time with him, my hips rocking, until the pleasure is so intense, I call out his name… “Chandler, now. I’m ready right now—I have to feel you… Please don’t make me wait.”

He pauses, turns me around. “I didn’t bring protection. Because of my vow, I don’t carry any.”

“Oh.” My head spins, my body wreathing. It’s a risk I promised Mama I’d never take. But how could this happen right now? Now when I’m so…

“Just relax, Zanne,” Chandler says, sweetly smiling, “I’m here for you.”

“But…”

“Shhhh. It’s okay.”

He arches my back, presses his lips to my shoulder, and works me over till I want to scream. Biting my hand, I stifle the cries, watching his glistening biceps flex with determination.

I’m so revved up I try to reach down and return the favor.

Chandler grabs my wrists with his hands. “Just you.” He pushes my hands back, my stomach is taut, rising and falling. His gaze rakes over my nakedness. “Let me look at you. You’re beautiful.” He meets my gaze again. “Just for you this time, ‘kay?”

I’m at a loss for how to reply.

He returns to his fondling and doesn’t stop till I cry out. Then shiver. And he meets my mouth with a long, sweet kiss. So intimate, so gentle. We separate, and for a few seconds, he rests his cheek against mine.

I try to capture the moment in my mind before it’s gone forever. 

He moves to the sink. I turn off the mist and turn on the fan. It dries my skin and allows me some privacy to catch my breath while Chandler cleans up. With clothes in hand, he steps back into the stall and we redress in a cluster of knees and elbows and chuckles. My body gloats with a mind of its own, my nipples still erect, my stomach still flipping with sensations. I’ve never been in this situation before. I had no idea guys could resist like that. Almost like he didn’t really want me.

Once my uniform is back on, I step out of the stall and check my reflection. My hair is a dampened mess, my cheeks flushed and rosy, and my mascara smeared into what looks like a smoky-eye attempt gone wrong. But I’ve got that great-sex glow all the same.

Matter of fact, a full burst of energy surges through me and I can hardly contain myself, or the perma-grin pushing up my cheeks.

Chandler sneaks up behind me and gazes at our reflection. Dang, we’d look good together. If that was possible.

“That was intense,” he says, and kisses my cheek.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “Feels a little selfish. You didn’t…”

“Are you kidding me? I’m better than okay, Zanne. I didn’t stop because I don’t want you. Got it?”

I nod.

“It’s been three months since I’ve been with anyone. And this was…” He blinks, grinning wide. “A treat I didn’t deserve. Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything quite like that before. I wish you could’ve too.”

He taps his temple. “I did right here. Believe me.”

With a flash of bashfulness, I drop my gaze and begin buttoning my blouse. As much as I want to soak in the moment, I have to think of this as a now-and-then transaction. He’s celibate. Maybe I was a fix. Heroine for the addict? It’s just that it feels like we connected on another level and I ain’t never felt this before. Maybe that’s why my heart is racing.

“Our secret?” Chandler moves my hair to the side of my neck, and pecks me there, too.

Swoosh!

Our heads snap toward the door. It slides open and into the wall.

Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot.

Standing at the doorway is Amanda, one of the other flight attendants on duty. Wide-eyed, her mouth falls open.

For a few terrifying seconds we all stare at each other and I don’t know which of us is the deer in headlights and which of us is the driver.

I dart to the door and slam the button. It slides shut. I click it locked, my throat squeezing. I lean up against the door to catch my breath. My pulse is amplified at maximum frequency.

Chandler stares at me, then back at the door, and busts out laughing.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny,” I bark.

“She’s the one working my cabin,” he says, grinning.

“Didn’t you lock it?”

“I thought so, although, my mind was on other things.” Chandler forces a pout. “Don’t worry, I’ll smooth it over. I’m sure she didn’t see much of anything.”

I look down at my blouse still standing open. How could I have let this happen?

“This kinda thing probably happens all the time.” Chandler grabs my hand, pulls me to him. “Mile High Mania—used to be a thing I think. Back in the 80s or something. But it was a first for me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I say with a scowl, my fists smashed at his chest.

“Yeah, well, it’s possible you don’t know so much about me.”

“Touche.”

He kisses my lips and I let him.

I’m grateful for the distraction because I don’t want to answer whether or not it was my first time, too. Not that he seems to care.

“Let me step out and see what’s going on,” he says. “Stay here for a few minutes.”

“I know what to do,” I say, harsher than I intended.

Chandler flashes me a look of confusion.

I sneer playfully and tie up the back of my hair. But inside I’m freaking out. I may have just compromised Flight Club.