Page 81 of The Woman in 3B
“I hope you remember this sacrifice,” she mumbled into the bag.
I helped pull back her hair to keep it out of her face. She sounded so miserable, I tried not to laugh. “You’re quite the martyr.”
“Just give me a second, and I’ll be ready for the Mile High Club.”
I smiled wistfully at her singular determination. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the month was already over. I’d let my bingo card go unfinished, and I hadn’t re-entered the contest for the current month.
I pressed my lips against her sweaty temple. “Don’t worry. There’s no rush.”
EPILOGUE
Her hands were on me the moment the flimsy bathroom door shut behind us. She tugged at the front of my uniform shirt until the bottom hem yanked free from my pencil skirt. I helped her efforts by unbuttoning the top few buttons of my blouse. There wasn’t time to unbutton the rest. Her greedy hand dove into my cleavage and her fingers slid between my naked breast and the cup lining of my beige bra.
I wasn’t checking off a bingo square. I’d given up the game. In fact, I’d let the previous month lapse without collecting any winnings. It had become a point of contention between us. Anissa didn’t understand me forfeiting the contest money I’d legitimately earned, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to financially benefit from meeting and dating her.
Our work schedules changed every month, which could make it incredibly frustrating if we’d been dating someone with a more traditional job. But since both of our schedules were ever-changing, we actually could coordinate those schedules to match up. I didn’t bid on lines that had me working most of her flights—that would have been too distracting—but I could find layovers and multi-day trips that had us in the same cities at the same time. It was far from perfect, but neither were we.
I let my head fall back as nimble fingers twisted my pebbled nipple. Anissa seized the opportunity to press her mouth against the side of my neck. She sucked on the skin while she continued to maul my breast beneath my bra.
“No hickies,” I protested weakly, although I really didn’t care what she did to me as long as she didn’t stop.
She bit down harder in defiance of my words, and licked against the tender spot. “Isn’t that what scarves are for?” came her cheeky reply.
I was ready to turn the tables on her, but a knock on the bathroom door made me pause.
“Hey guys?” I heard my friend Gemma’s voice through the cheaply constructed door. “We’re going to being landing soon.”
“Thanks, Gemma,” I called back. “I-I’m just helping a passenger with something. We’ll be right out.”
“O-okay,” Gemma returned. I could hear the anxiety in her tone.
“Not very convincing,” Anissa breathed against my neck.
“I hate to disappoint you, babe,” I retorted, “but we’re not fooling anyone.”
“Good.”
Anissa grabbed the bottom hem of my skirt and pulled the material up my hips. I was thankful for the stretch material that, among other things, allowed for more movement.
Anissa paused long enough to admire her work. Without having to look in a mirror, I knew I was a disheveled mess. My skirt was hiked up over my hips. My normally pale skin would be flushed with arousal. My shirt was untucked and unbuttoned obscenely low. My right breast spilled over the top of my bra. And hidden beneath my nylons, my underwear was a sodden mess.
“The nylons are sexy, but they get in the way,” she told me.
“They’re company policy,” I retorted. “You wouldn’t want me getting in trouble, would you?”
She cocked her head to the side. “What’s your company’s policy about having sex with a customer mid-flight?”
“At least I’m not fraternizing with co-workers anymore,” came my cheeky reply.
Anissa pressed her canines against my neck and nipped at my pale skin. “You’d better not,” she growled.
Her hands tight at my hips and her possessive growl made me shiver.
Anissa jerked away when the whole plane seemed to shudder. A loud thunking noise reminded me of how close we were to landing.
“Landing gear,” I thought aloud.
“Guess I’d better make this quick,” Anissa rasped.
