Darlene Page 6

  I purse my lips and frown as if to say to him, I'm not that stupid. "Of course. And no, I didn't use my real name. I just like to avoid getting myself on any blacklists so I don't have to remember what name I used."

  "Make up some new ones."

  "Touche'," I say, biting another slice of pizza.

  "Get dressed," Kevin orders. Again, I comply. I'm starting to like the fact that I don't have to be the brains of everything. "We're leaving."

  "Now?"

  "Yes, now." Kevin pauses to look up at me while stuffing clothes in his suitcase. He fingers the bag that holds our take and I look at him.

  "You're sure that's the best idea?" I stand in front of the mirror, casually tying my hair up into a messy chignon.

  "Darlene, you're going to have to trust me," Kevin replies, exasperated.

  "Think about it. Splitting up might give us an advantage. We can always link up later. Besides, I've already burned a credit card and another ID for the plane ride home."

  "Home?" He raises his eyebrows.

  "Well, that was my plan, at least." I exhale. "Then there was you."

  "Here's what I propose," Kevin says. "Let's go with my original plan. My guy was already set up to get rid of most of this shit because you weren't supposed to show up, remember?"

  I smile and nod, a sparkle in my eye, I'm sure. And I decide he's right. We're losing time going back and forth.

  "Fuck commercial. I've chartered a private jet."

  "Well now, Mr. McInness. I may have underestimated you." I chuckle. He really is connected. I always fly commercial—and Kevin is right that it's more risky after a job like this. It's not that I never have the money. I just haven't met anyone that I can trust who also happens to own a private jet.

  "You with me?"

  "Okay, can we screw each other's brains out again first?" I grin, hopping into his lap and straddling him. I feel his instant hard on. I want him to push me over and rip my clothes off, but he show restraint, opting to slap my ass and brush me off.

  "You're funny. We'll have plenty of time for that when we get to where we're going. I'm takin g the stairs. You take the elevator." Kevin stops to scribble something on the hotel's note pad. "Take a taxi to this hangar at the airport. That's where the jet will be waiting."

  He kisses me long and sweetly before disappearing out the door. Obediently, I grab my rolling bag and make my way to the elevator. My stomach is churning and I'm sweating. I'm scared. Of cops? Hell no. I’m scared I'm never going to see Kevin again. Or my damn money.

  Chapter 15

  I'm starting to get pissed off.

  "Another champagne, ma’am?" The tall blonde attendant returns with the Moët et Chandon to refill my flute.

  "Thanks," I say, dryly. The booze is starting to hit me; I'm heady, which isn't helping my attitude. It's hot on this plane and Kevin's fucking late. I stare out of the jet's window at the steaming asphalt below, wondering if this thing is ever going to take off. Or, worse, if I've been taken by a handsome fraud and good dick. I wipe my brow, release another button on my shirt and decide to try and relax. I sip the champagne, letting its crispness linger on my tongue. I summon the blonde.

  "Do you have any snacks?"

  "Certainly," she says with an air of indignation in her voice.

  I calm myself enough to remember I'm on a private jet and the people they fly in this thing would expect something more than pretzels. She comes back rather quickly with a tray of cheese and crackers, mini beef Wellingtons and a few chocolate truffles. I sit back and pull out my Kindle. Yes, it's all part of the tourist look, but the book I'm reading is actually halfway decent.

  Another twenty minutes has passed, to my surprise. I see the captain making his way toward me, an expression on his face I can't read.

  "Miss …?"

  "Malveaux," I remind him of my new fake name.

  "Ah, yes," I responds, with notes of skepticism and South Africa in his voice. "Miss Malveaux, I'm afraid we'll have to take off soon as to keep on schedule with the flight plan. I'm sure you're aware."

  "Absolutely," I reply. His accent is rather cute, and I'm sappy under the weight of fatigue and the Moët.

  "I think we can give Mister Baker another ten minutes or so, but that's all. I'm sorry," he says, frowning again.

  "No worries. He'll be here." My heart beats faster, hoping my own words are true. The attendant glances my way, a look of pity on her face. I cut my eyes at her—my woman-to-woman way of letting her know that she shouldn't dare ask me if I want anything else. Knowingly, she takes her seat just outside the flight deck. I drain the last of my glass and set it back on the tray with trembling hands. I'm thinking about my next move.

  And then I hear it: his voice.

  "Welcome aboard, Mister Baker," the blonde says.

  "Thank you. Just made it," Kevin responds jubilantly.

  You know by now that I'm not very much into the lovey-dovey, but I can't help it. I run into Kevin's arms like I haven't seen him in years. We kiss and I catch Blondie grinning out of the corner of my eye.

  "Did you doubt?" he asks.

  "No, no … I was worried, though."

  "Yeah, right!" Kevin laughs. I laugh too.

  He takes a seat across from me and immediately starts to dig into the small bites that were laid before me. "We're going to need a lot more champagne."

  "How much?" Kevin knows I'm not talking about the champagne. Meanwhile, Blondie appears out of nowhere to uncork another bottle, right on cue.

  "A little over four, actually. I took four for us and told him to keep the rest."

  "Damn! That's awesome."

  "We'll split it down the middle." Kevin's hand caresses my thigh. "No matter what happens to us."

  "That's fair," I say quietly. "Are you going to tell me where we're going now?"

  "New York City. We'll hang loose a few days then fly to Barcelona."

  I frown. "I promised I'd be home for Christmas in Chicago."

  "I'm flexible. Plus, I'd love to meet your family," Kevin says with a grin.

  “So, is it true that you’ve been married twice?”

  Kevin bursts out laughing. “Nope.” He pauses. “Just once.”

  "What about your girls?" I ask cautiously.

  Kevin's look is serious. "My girls? A lie."

  "Oh." I exhale, letting the tension exit my muscles. Kevin picks up on this quickly.

  "What? Are you relieved?!"

  "Not really." And I'm being really honest about that part. "Just glad to know the truth." I caress his neck, deep in thought. Then, it slips out. "I could retire." A wide smile crosses my face.

  "Shit! Why do you think I did this job?" Kevin shakes his head convincingly. "I'm out."

  He has a point. We could retire quite well. Together. I blush for thinking it.

  "Excuse me, but if you could both make sure your seat belts are securely fastened, we'll be taking off in about five minutes."

  We click ourselves in, beaming at one another with pride in the fact that we've just ripped off the largest gem show in the country. I can't wait to watch the news coverage.

  Minutes later, when we're cruising, Kevin releases his seat belt and pounces on me. He slips a hand inside my shirt to massage my left breast. Of course I'm aroused.

  "I couldn't wait to do that," he whispers in my ear as he nibbles it simultaneously.

  I kiss him deeply and before we know it, we're tearing at each other's clothes. He gets up momentarily to draw the curtain separating us from Blondie, who's moved into jet's galley with a smirk on her face. I don't even care. I free Kevin's bulging dick from his briefs as he's reclined in the chair. I kneel and gently start to lick his sensitive tip. To my surprise, he pulls me up.

  "I have a better idea." He holds a finger up as he engages the chair's power recline mode. I smile as I watch it go nearly all the way back, Kevin almost flat on his back. "Get up here," he orders.

  I know just what he means, and I don't hesitate. I straddle his
face while giving his hard dick full attention with my smooth hands and warm, wet mouth. Kevin's teasing tongue flicks across my lips and traces little circles around me as I moan with delight. Our pleasure won't be silenced and I'm sure Blondie can hear us, but I don't mind.

  Moving faster now, Kevin drinks me up while caressing my rock hard nipples. I feel his warmth hit the back of my throat as I also start to release all the joy he's given me. Wildly, we both succumb to our orgasms. Kevin gives me no time to rest, though. In seconds, he's behind me, pressing into me, growing with each pump. He grabs my hair as his pumps get harder, faster.

  I look over and out of the small window to smile at the clouds. Who would have ever thought? My mother just might get her wish. I'll settle down with Kevin and see my family regularly. But right now, as Kevin hits my g-spot in the fiercest way with his hands firmly planted on my hips, I smile, wondering if this is what people mean when they talk about the Mile High Club.

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