Page 9 of Dear Alaskan Bush Pilot
The sound of a deep voice clearing his throat startles us, and we both step back from one another. We turn and see Patrick and Jera holding hands, each trying to hold back the smiles on their faces.
"Son," Patrick says. "I know you planned on taking Jera back with you tonight, but I'm wondering if I could pay to have you pick her up tomorrow instead."
"It's getting late, and we aren't ready to let go," Jera adds, looking lovingly up at Patrick.
He smiles down at her, and for a moment, I swear, it looks like all the years they've lost fade away on their faces. And they are young and in love.
“That’s not a problem,” I assure them.
If ever there was a time where I understood not wanting to let go of the woman I love, this was it.
We make plans for a pick-up in the morning. I'm eager to get back up in the air. Not because I have to race the sunlight to get back home, but I'm eager to be alone with Emery finally.
6
EMERY
On the flight back to Frontier, Jack and I decide that it's probably best not to make it known to everyone else about whatever is blooming between us. We don't need curious eyes watching our every move, whispering to one another about what they've seen.
“Meet me at my place,” I whisper to Jack before we get out of the plane.
“Why are you whispering? The doors are closed. No one can hear us.”
“Why are you trying to ruin my fun of sneaking around?” I ask, half teasing.
He holds up his hands in surrender and whispers back, “My apologies. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I avoid walking through the airport to get to my car. I don’t want anyone to stop me and try and start up a long-winded conversation about the weather or how good the fishing is going.
When I get home, I quickly pick up around my small apartment—tossing the clothes laying on the floor into the hamper and filling my sink with all the dishes I'll wash later. I jump in the shower and rinse off, careful not to get my hair wet. I don't need him showing up with my hair damp, and it dries in a crazy way that makes me look like I've just jammed my finger in an electrical socket.
I slip on a ribbed cami dress that clings tightly to my curves. I've waited so long for this. I don't want there to be any confusion about what is going to happen tonight.
Twenty minutes later, on the dot, there is a knock at my door. I fluff my hair and push up my boobs one last time before I open the door. Jack fills the doorway with his tall frame and broad shoulders. Heat instantly pools between my legs when I see the lust look in his eyes as he takes me in.
“You look beautiful,” he says, looking me up and down.
“Thank you,” I feign like I didn’t just frantically try to look my best for him. “I thought I’d slip into something more comfortable.”
"Well, it definitely looks comfortable—among other things." He chuckles. "Can I come in?"
I step back and let him step inside. He looks around the small studio apartment with interest until the sound of the door clicks shut. He spins around and crushes his lips against mine in a bruising kiss. It takes my breath away, but I still can’t get enough.
Jack wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. Even through the denim of his jeans, I can feel the hard press of his cock against my lower belly. His hands explore the curves of my body—from my breasts to my ass as he deepens the kiss between us. I feel like my body is on fire for him.
I push his jacket off his shoulders and yank up his t-shirt to pull over his head. My fingertips trace down the hard contours of his muscled chest down to the deep V cut at his hips. That V can make a sane girl go crazy. Lock me up and throw away the key if it means I get to spend one glorious night with this man.
I push my hands against his chest, and Jack steps back with a look of lustful confusion on his face. I grab the hem of my dress and pull it up over my head. I stand there a moment to let Jack take in the matching lace bra and panties I ordered online last month.
“Take off your pants,” I say as I climb up onto my bed and lay back.
Jack scrambles with the buckle on his belt and pops the top button on his jeans. I sit up and unhook my bra in the front. I separate the two cups but don't give Jack the whole show just yet. He tugs down his jeans and tries to take a step but loses his balance and topples over.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” I ask, connecting my bra and leaning over the end of the bed.
“I’m fine.” Jack is unfazed by his less than graceful fall as he pulls on his boots and then finally frees himself from the tangle of denim. He stands up in his boxer shorts that do little to hide the prominent bulge I felt earlier.
Jack pushes up onto the bed and climbs slowly up my body, leaving a scorching trail of kisses from my hip bone to my stomach to each soft mound of my breasts.
