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Lily
The passenger in 3B wasn’t just the handsomest guy I’d ever seen in my life, he was living, breathing sex. The kind of sex that was liquefied, like chocolate fudge, and poured over me like I was one of the sundaes we were serving for dessert. I assumed he was my age—twenty-eight—or a few years older. His hair was the darkest black and styled, his eyes light blue and piercing, his nose a sharp slope. His beard was trimmed and manicured along the edge of his chin, his whiskers a length that would tease rather than scrape. His skin was tan, as though he’d just spent the week in Hawaii. The combination of features made a perfect blend.
A blend that I needed to see again.
Now that we had reached cruising altitude, I got to work on another scotch. This time, one finger’s worth rather than two, so he’d be asking for a refill sooner rather than later, giving me another chance to stare into his stunning eyes.
Something I could do for the entire seven-hour flight.
Just stare.
Nothing more.
But, oh, what a gaze-fest it would be.
One full of smiles, which made me laugh to myself. He wanted to make a deal that my smile was reserved just for him, and he wouldn’t flirt with any of my colleagues.
That was the first time in my whole career that a deal had been presented during a flight.
A story I could add to my collection.
But one far more fascinating because the harmless flirting made my body throb in a way that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It made me feel wanted, something else I hadn’t experienced in forever. And for just a fleeting moment, I could focus on something other than the things that constantly ate at me.
“We’re going to start preparing the first course,” Martha said from behind me.
I put the bottle of scotch away and replied, “I’ll help.”
“No need,” she said. “Just make a sweep and check on everyone. Katy and I will do the food prep.”
“Works for me,” I told her, and I started walking toward the third row.
I was only a step past the galley when I connected eyes with Mr. Charmer.
He had reclined his seat all the way back, not quite into a bed, but enough that his legs were extended out and his arms were folded behind his head. A position many of the passengers were currently in, yet none of them made it look as sexy as Mr. Spade.
“She’s back.”
I set the scotch on his side table. “Are you doing all right? Anything else I can get you?”
“I’m extremely disappointed with the service so far.” He kept his voice low. “Is there a manager I can speak to?”
His smile made me laugh.
“I’m the manager, Mr. Spade. What can I help you with?”
“There’s this flight attendant I’d like to spend more time with, and I’d like to have her relieved of her duties so she can pull up a chair and have a drink with me.”
I shifted my stance, my body turning so tingly. “Unfortunately, I can’t allow anyone on my staff to do that. Drinking isn’t allowed on the job.”
“What about conversation?”
My head tilted. “I could possibly arrange that.” I looked toward the galley. “Why don’t you tell me which flight attendant you’re interested in talking to?—”
“The one I can’t take my eyes off of.”
Why did that simple statement sound so intimate?
“That would be you, Lily.”
