She is still trying to respond to my non-question. I smile. The one I know affects her. I’m pulling out all the fucking stops right now. For some reason I want to hear her admit what she feels.
I graze her knee with my fingertips casually, running them lightly up her smooth thigh only stopping when my fingers hit jean. She closes her eyes as her breathing speeds up. “As long as I’m the one doing all the fucking,” I whisper into her ear, making sure my lips graze her earlobe as I speak. She turns her head, searching for my lips. I pull back and stroke the inside of her thigh again. “Today though? You’re going to jump out of an airplane strapped to my chest,” I say, making sure she looks me directly in the eye.
Blue Eyes is all mine. Even though she looks shocked at today’s choice of activity, I know she wants me and that stupid knowledge makes me so fucking giddy.
“S-s-skydiving,” she stutters. It sounds more likefuck me, than a recreational sport. My dick, who has been tenting my pants since I removed the key from the ignition, is on high alert. I know I need to take it slow; he doesn’t. Poor bastard. “Are you even qualified to do that?”
I laugh loudly. “Of course I’m qualified to do that. Who do you think I am? You think I’d break the law?” I grab a bag from the backseat.
“I mean of course you can do it, but you can do it with me under you?” She shakes her head. It looks so cute. I know what she means, but I want to go there anyway. The sexual tension is so thick I’m about to choke on it.
“Windsor, you can be in any position you want to be in. Today, for tandem skydiving, you will be under me. I’ll make it good…fun. I promise,” I tell her. I’ve never gone tandem with a woman before. Usually it’s one of my buddies swinging under me during training trips.
“I’m scared. This is not on my bucket list, Maverick. Do you know how many things can go wrong? I mean there must be at least a thousand glitches that could happen. We’d careen into the earth so fast we’d explode!” she says, her voice rising. I can just smile and reassure her that I won’t let anything happen to her. Because I won’t. Her worries do distract me from her ass, which is a good thing.
*****
We’re up in the small, rickety airplane ascending to twelve thousand feet where we will jump out of a perfectly good flying machine. She made me check her harness twenty-two times before she agreed to board the plane. I indulged her mainly because it meant my hands were all over her—in between her legs, her waist, her shoulders. I went over the procedures and what exactly I expected of her. She paid attention, her eyes wide, as if her life depended on it. She thought it did, which made me laugh. Her life depends on me. Windsor got a little pissy when I told her that.
“I hate this part,” I whisper into her ear. She’s sitting on my lap because she’s officially connected to me. She turns her head to the side and her eyes go wide.
She clutches my pants in her hands. “Do not say stuff like that, Maverick!” she yells back over the whir of the engines. The buildings on the ground are getting smaller and smaller. I wrap my hands around her waist and drag her back to my chest. She tenses for a second, then relaxes completely into me. When she leans her head back against my shoulder and turns it to look up at me, my head swims. The trust in her eyes gives me a high I only get from a couple other places.
“I got you,” I say, and hope it’s not a fucking lie. I want to have her not just now as we hurl toward earth, but for as far into the future as I can comfortably predict.
She nods her head, though her heart is hammering. I feel it thumping into me, and I know exactly what will take her mind off everything. I want to kiss her so badly I can already taste her lips. I’ve been so close so many times in the past weeks that I think I know what her lip-gloss will taste like when I lick it off. I’ve memorized her every curve and have predicted what she will feel like in my hands as we make-out furiously, no caution—just tongues and skin and sweat.
“Take a leap, Windsor. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I tell her as I lift her to stand in front of me. She nods once more, but I believe it this time because she smiles before she turns around, her back still pressed against my front.
A muffled voice fills the cabin of the plane, announcing that we’ve reached our jumping altitude. We’re the only two so we walk together, like we practiced in unison, so we don’t trip, to the door. Mannie comes over and unlatches the hatch exposing the blue sky. A whistle fills the air and Windsor lets out a little scream. I chuckle to myself, remembering the first time I jumped out of an airplane, the adrenaline consuming me. It really does go against every self-preservation defense mechanism the human body has. My heart picks up, like it always does, and it’s like a fucking jolt of life entering my bloodstream. This is it. This is what I live for. And with this woman strapped to me I don’t think there is a better feeling in the world.
I inch up to the edge of the door, keeping my hands on each side of the hatch. I look down over Windsor’s shoulder to see the landing zone. It looks like a speck of something, but I know it’s where we need to end up. Another scream, but this time accompanied with laughter, hits me. She’s excited and that makes me even higher.
“On three!” I shout. It’s hard to hear anything with the engines and now the wind whipping us, calling me to it.
She nods her head. “Yes!” she screams back, her hands tensing on the hatch door. I glance at Mannie and he gives me a solid nod, with a huge smile.
“One,” I say, and rock forward a little bit in preparation for three when she’ll go out completely. “Two.” Another rock forward, a little bit further, extending my arms almost fully. “Three!” I yell and I push forward all the way.
The wind hits us like a punch and then we fall.
*****
Windsor
There is no sense of falling, only air hitting me. It’s like the air is trying to hold me up, but gravity wins out in the end. I know this because the things on the ground get bigger as we fall. I focus all my energy on keeping my arms out to the sides and bent just like Maverick taught me. It’s hard, because I scream every few seconds and I’m sure I move from the correct position.
The scared shitless feeling left the second we left the plane. Now, I just feel free. Adrenaline pumps and my heart hammers, but being one with the air makes me feel unrestrained in a way I never imagined possible. The risks are moot; I’m in the air, falling rapidly. Nothing matters except the way this freedom feels.
I’m confident in Maverick’s abilities. I never for a second questioned whether I’d be safe. His confidence is enough for both of us. When he wrapped his arms around me and told me to take a leap, I knew this was what I needed. I see his arms in my peripheral vision and the sight of his big arms, wrapped in tattoos, hovering over me just confirm my safety. I am safe.
“One,” Maverick shouts. He’s going to pull the parachute on three like we practiced. Two comes next.
“Three,” he says. I ball up my legs as much as I can, which isn’t much, and we are rising up, up, up in the opposite direction we were just going. I look up and see the huge blue parachute opening. All falls silent as Maverick grabs the handles and begins guiding us down.
I pant a few seconds, just catching my breath from the thrill of it all. He laughs. It’s a laugh I haven’t heard before. It’s completely unguarded and carefree. “Oh my God. That was insane!” I squeal. It really is a squeal, too.
“Insane good or insane awesome?” he asks through his laughs.
