Mine Forever Read online

  I found him all the way in the back of the spacious lounge, sitting in a cloud of cigar smoke with a half a dozen other pilots. I squared my shoulders and put a neutral smile on my face before I made my move to join the fray. There was never any telling when it came to men like these. It was true that I was technically one of them, but that didn't mean I had to like them. Some of the times, I did, and some of the times, I didn't. When it came to the men I had to fly with, it was all luck of the draw.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt, gentleman, but is there a Fred Stevens amongst you? I've been looking for a Fred Stevens, and if ever there was a group of men who looked like pilots, it's you guys."

  There were probably seven men sitting there, all of whom turned to look in my direction when I spoke. Most of them were still laughing, but there was also the question in their eyes of who was interrupting their private get together. Groups of pilots were always that way. They were private clubs wherever they were that most people wouldn't have tried to interrupt. The fact that I had walked right up and done just that gave them pause that was obvious on their faces. Not for the first time, I wondered how I could be part of a profession that was so often unappealing to me in others. It was a conversation I didn't enjoy having with myself, and one I was glad to have put to an end with the answering of my question.

  “Who the hell wants to know?” one of the men asked loudly, still laughing light-heartedly. I assumed he was Fred. “Who are you, kid? Didn’t anyone tell you this was the pilots’ lounge? That girl at the front shouldn’t have even let you in. Somebody ought to let her know she can’t be letting every good-looking guy through our front door.”

  “No sir,” I said. “That’s not what she did.”

  “How do you figure, young man?”

  “Because, I’m not a random guy, although I appreciate the implied compliment.”

  "Well, then who the hell are ya, if you're not some random guy?"

  "I'm your co-pilot, Mr. Stevens. At least for the next couple of days, I am. I've been looking for you."

  “Shit, son!” Fred exclaimed. “You should have let me know that a little earlier. What’s your name, anyway?”

  “It’s Drew, sir. Drew Larson.”

  “Have a seat, Drew, and for Christ’s sake, stop calling me sir. You make me feel like I’m a hundred fucking years old.”

  I nodded that I understood and sat where Fred Stevens indicated. He didn't like being called sir because he felt like it made him old. I got it, but looking at his face, I wondered how old he might be.

  In my mind, there were roughly two different kinds of pilots. There was the buttoned-up kind that took everything almost too seriously, and then there was the kind that pushed everything in life to the edge. Just a perfunctory look at Fred Stevens told me he was probably the latter kind. It was why I couldn't get a handle on how old he was. He had the look of a man who had partied a hell of a lot more than he should have. The only thing I couldn't yet be sure of was whether or not the partying was still happening.

  “So, you’re going to be the new guy now, huh?”

  “For the next couple of flights, at least.”

  “Replacing that last fucker, huh?” he asked, shaking his head. “Thank Christ for that. That one was a stiff, you know? Total stiff. No two ways about it.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I never met him.”

  “Don’t have to meet him,” Fred said, taking a puff off his cigar. “You can take my word for it. Guy was a fucking square.”

  Some of the other pilots around the table laughed, but I didn’t.

  “I guess there’s a lot of us, huh?” I asked.

  “Us?” Fred asked with a frown beneath his drooping mustache. “Aw, shit, us? So then, you’re one of them, huh? One of the stiffs, I mean. The squares.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t think of myself as a square, but that’s just me.”

  “I should’ve known you were. Pretty boy pilots like you are always stiffs. You know it, just the same way as I do.”

  Why the hell was he thinking about stiff pretty boys? I kept the question to myself. Things were already off to a rocky enough start.

  “I don’t tend to think of myself as a pretty boy, sir,” I said.

  "I told you! No sir, all right? Stevens. Just call me Stevens, and we'll get along just fine, square or not."

  "All right, Stevens,” I said, nodding. “Whatever you say."

  "Whatever I say, huh? Well, I say you're a pretty boy, and I've got the proof."

  Despite his weird obsession with complimenting my looks, I didn't like this man. I had only spent a short amount of time with him, and already, I knew I didn't like him.

  He represented a shining example of the kind of man I hoped not to become after another dozen or so years on the job. He was a little bit too loud, a little bit too out of control, and a little bit too full of himself.

  I had no patience for men like that. My lack of patience wasn't enough to keep me from looking at his so-called proof, though. When I turned to glance over my shoulder, I smiled a little. The Pilots’ Lounge wasn't just for the pilots; it was for everyone who worked on the flights, including the crew and the flight attendants. At the moment, there was a gaggle of women all dressed for a flight standing several feet behind where I sat with Stevens. Several of them were looking in my direction.

  There was the proof of the pretty boy thing. It wasn't my favorite nickname, but when it got the attention of chicks as good-looking as these, I found myself minding it a lot less.

  There was one, in particular, a little blonde thing with the kind of curves a man could really grab onto. She caught my attention immediately. If this chick was on my flight, things might be looking up. Along with a fantastic set of tits and hips that made me get half hard just looking at them, she had the kind of long, blonde hair I would have loved to pull. Her eyes were wide, blue, and innocent, which only made her hotter, and her smile was enough to make me want to talk to her.

  I had no desire to talk to her for any longer than necessary, not to get into a fucking relationship or anything as stupid as that, but I wouldn't have minded talking to her for long enough to get her into bed. If she was on my flight, and I was starting to pray to God that she was, the two of us were going to be stuck in Dallas that night. Without much of anything to do in Texas, I thought there was a good shot that I might get her up to my hotel room. If I could do that, I could get anything.

  I watched the way she looked as she spoke with a couple of other flight attendants. She looked sexy as hell in her flight attendant uniform. I would bet money that she was wearing a sexy little thong.

  I imagined walking over to her. Grabbing her and turning her to meet my gaze. I took her mouth to mine, our tongues intertwining. She tasted amazing, sweet from the lip gloss she was wearing. I put my hands in her hair and pulled the pins out, causing her hair to fall. I wanted to be able to pull it whenever I could.

  “I want you.” I said.

  “Then fuck me.” She said.

  She removed her clothes, slowly. Drawing me in and captivating me. Her body was absolutely gorgeous. Her curves were perfect. Her breasts were large and her nipples were small and perfect. I started sucking on one nipple while I rolled the other between my thumb and forefinger.

  “Mmm.” She moaned softly, arching her back from the pleasure.

  My hand slid down to her warm, wet pussy and began to rub her clit through the lace on her panties. She moved her hips along with my hand.

  I backed up, ready to feel her around my dick.

  She removed her panties and bent over. She looked perfect like that. Her wet, hole opening and ready for me to enter.

  I took a step toward her and then another and was close enough that the tip of my dick was brushing up against her pussy. I controlled the urge to come already.

  “Mmm.” She moaned again, pushing back just a little bit. As she did so, I leaned back. I wanted to drive her a little more crazy.

  I grabbed her
hair in both of my hands.

  “I’m going to fuck your tight pussy now.” I said through clenched teeth.

  A shiver ran through her body and I pushed myself into her tight pussy. It squeezed around my throbbing hard cock. I pushed myself in so I was all the way into her. I pulled myself out slowly and slid back inside of her.

  I began to pick up the pace, grabbing her hair with one hand and holding onto her hip with my other hand. I slammed my dick into her, hard. Her head was titled back some from the way I was pulling her hair.

  “Oh shit!” She cried.

  “You like that?” I asked.

  She nodded her head. “I love your hard cock.” She moaned as she pushed back on me some. My cock slid in and out of her, faster and faster and I could tell she was getting close and suddenly she was moaning, her body trembling.

  “I’m coming.” She said.

  Then I pulled out of her. “I want to come in your mouth.” I said as she got onto her knees in front of me.

  She grabbed my cock with both of her hands and put her mouth to the tip. She worked her way down my shaft until I could feel the back of her throat. She gagged just a little bit, but it was sexy. I placed my hands on her head and helped her as she sucked me. Her mouth was perfect, her lips covered her teeth so I couldn’t feel them. All I felt was her sucking on me.

  “Yeah,” Stevens said, with a laugh, pulling me out of my day dream. He watched my face as I checked out the curvy blonde. “You’re a pretty boy, all right, but something tells me you know how to use it to your advantage.”

  Fucking hell, Fred. Keep it in your pants. I knew what he was trying to say, and that he wasn’t actually hitting on me, but he managed to make it sound creepy as shit, killing my hard-on, which wasn’t a bad thing. I was not looking forward to being locked up in the cabin with him for the duration of the flight.

  He clapped me on the shoulder, making me cringe. “Come on, kid,” he said. “Let’s see which of those hot little numbers are going to be flying with us. Something tells me that’ll help you plan the rest of your evening.”

  Chapter 3: Jess

  Being in a plane before anyone had boarded was one of my favorite things in the world. Walking up and down the aisles, checking the seats and the overhead bins, I was always struck by the fact that I was on a giant machine that could take anyone anywhere.

  While it was on the ground, it looked and felt like an overgrown tin can, but I knew it to be something different. I knew it to be a dream maker, something magnificent that could change a person's life, even. It could make the seemingly impossible possible, and to me, that made it the closest thing to magic that any of us on earth were ever going to get.

  "Jess!” Becca called out. “Hey, Earth to Jess! What could you possibly be thinking about right now? What do you think about while we do these preflight checks?"

  “Nothing,” I answered quickly, embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming on the job. “I guess I just let my mind wander. Why, what do you think about?”

  Becca and Trish, two flight attendants I had been on dozens of flights with already, exchanged a glance and a knowing set of smiles. These only made me feel more insecure, and I ducked my head. I could see them wanting to ask me more questions, and the only way I knew how to stop that from happening was to concentrate on doing my job.

  It served me right to be questioned this way. That's what I got for letting my mind wander on the job the way I was doing. Romanticizing the job was one thing, but letting it show on my face was another. Thinking about the nature of travel wasn't what I was paid to do. I was paid to make the plane ready for the people who had somewhere to go.

  I could see Emma's face in my mind's eye, rolling her eyes and telling me I needed a better poker face if I was going to think of things unrelated to work. She would probably tell me not to waste my time thinking about things not related to finding a better boyfriend, too, knowing my daughter. Thinking about it was enough to make me smile. I was still smiling when the pilot and co-pilot boarded the plane.

  “Ladies! Ladies, ladies. Aren’t you a bunch of overachievers, on the plane before your valiant pilots have even arrived?”

  "Captain Stevens." Becca nodded at the pilot with a thin smile I recognized instantly as phony. "Good to see you."

  "But seriously, ladies," he pressed on, either not hearing Becca or not caring about what she had to say. "What's the endgame here? If I didn't already think so highly of you all, I would say you were trying to make me look bad."

  “Of course not, Captain Stevens,” Becca said. “Nothing like that. We just like to get a jump on our duties. Besides, your responsibilities really begin when we’re in the air.”

  “Right! That’s exactly right. I knew I liked you for a reason. And anyhow, it’s not like I was just playing with my dick or anything, you know? I was getting to know our new pilot here. Good enough reason as any, wouldn’t you say?”

  The dick comment was something I would have flinched at several years ago, back when I had first begun my job in the sky. At this point, though, it didn't do anything to me at all. I was used to the often chauvinistic comments of the pilots, and the other girls were, too. It was part of the job, and a part I was mostly at peace with.

  And even if that hadn't been the case, the chances of me paying Captain Stevens much mind at this point were awfully slim. It was the man he was with who had all my attention. The guy standing next to him, who looked vaguely uncomfortable with Fred's arm looped roughly around his neck, was one of the most gorgeous guys I had ever seen in real life.

  He was the kind of good looking you didn't expect to see in real life. Most guys that looked like this one were reserved for movie screens or the covers of GQ. They weren't out walking around amongst normal people, and they definitely weren't the new pilot you got to fly with.

  This guy was tall, probably close to a foot taller than me, with thick, dark hair and dark eyes to match. It wasn't just that he was hot, either, although that was a fact I doubted anyone could deny. There was also just something about him. There was a calmness, almost a stoicism, about him that made me immediately interested in who he was.

  It was the last thing I was expecting on this flight, and I had to mentally kick myself into gear to look somewhere other than at the new guy's face. I busied myself with checking the magazines in the backs of the seats while the other girls took their best shot at flirting with the new co-pilot. At the same time, they fielded a series of less than stellar jokes made by Fred, which they undoubtedly put up with just so that they could make eyes at the newbie. They were the kind of jokes a person only laughed at as a means to an end, and although I found myself smiling at them, it was only to be polite. Even that felt like a whole lot of work. Something about seeing the strange new pilot had thrown me off my game enough that every movement felt like more work than it should have been.

  “So, which one of you is it going to be, anyway?” Captain Stevens thundered so loudly that the plane felt too small for all of us to stand inside of it. “Which one of you is going to break our young buck in?”

  “Sir!” Becca admonished with a laugh. “Really, what a question!”

  “She’s right, Fred, really,” Tricia laughed along with Becca. “This isn’t an auction. This is work! We’re all very busy and professional women. Isn’t that right, Jess?”

  “W-what? I’m sorry,” I stammered, feeling my face flush bright red. “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “Bullshit!” Fred Stevens cried, his voice so boisterous now it made me jump practically out of my sensible shoes. “No way you weren’t paying attention, my dear. Don’t believe that for a second. Look at that fucking face! That’s not the kind of face people don’t pay attention to, okay? Take it from one who knows.”

  “One who knows, huh?” Tricia asked in a teasing voice, “And how would you know? Are you saying you and this Mister…?”

  “Larson,” the gorgeous pilot interjected, his voice so low and smooth that it made
my heart jump in my chest. “Drew Larson.”

  “Thank you, sir. So, Stevens, are you saying that you and Mr. Larson here draw the same kind of attention? That both of you are just fending the ladies off with sticks, is that right?”

  "No way! I say take it from one who knows because none of you ladies have ever looked at me the way you're trying not to look at my young co-pilot. That’s how I know.”

  "Speaking of co-pilot, I hate to play the stick in the mud, but don't you all think it's time to start getting into place? People will start boarding soon, and I doubt they'll expect us to be standing around talking like this."

  All of the banter stopped immediately. Both of my friends and Captain Stevens turned their attention to this Drew Larson. I expected some kind of a fight from Stevens at least, who never took kindly to being told what to do, but there was nothing. I could hear him grumbling a little as he made his way to the cockpit, but considering the loose cannon the venerable Fred Stevens usually was, that was nothing.

  My friends both nodded at Mr. Larson and hurried toward the back of the plane, whispering and giggling to each other as they went. I turned to do the same, careful not to make eye contact as I went, and was almost to the safety of the back of the plane when the new co-pilot spoke up.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Is it about Captain Stevens?” I asked, turning and doing my best to look professional and not at all shook up as I did. “Because I can assure you, he’s harmless. I know he doesn’t always come off that way.”