“Then you need to get off.” His voice comes out gruff. Pained.
“What?” I raise my torso off him far enough to see his face. “You don’t have to be so rude.”
“Get the fuck away, Mae,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
I open my mouth to tell him off when I feel something under my butt cheeks. Or between my thighs to be precise. Something very hard and very large. I start moving away, trying not to aggravate the situation even more.
Of course, when I’m almost up and away from him, the plane gives another shake. Not as violent as before, but scary enough for me to try to get a hold of anything I might find around deemed to be grabbable. Which ends up being the armrest for one hand and his manhood for the other.
“Fuck!” the man cries out, trying to pull away from my firm grip.
“Sorry!” I jump to my feet, headed straight toward my seat over the divider. In some planes, they fall down to the armrest level, in some—like here—about a foot higher than that.
I should have gone around, just the same way I ended up here. But I’m too stunned, so my brain isn’t focusing on the most logical decision.
As I’m climbing over the divider, the plane shakes again. Of course.
“Folks,”the captain’s voice comes through the speaker,“looks like we’re still riding the same wave. Please stay seated until we say otherwise. The crew will help you with everything you need when we’re in clear skies. So hold onto the ones you have next to you, it’s going to be a bit bumpy.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” I hiss, trying to hold my balance while also trying to throw my body over the fence.
I almost made it. Almost.
Until gravity wins the battle, and my ass falls backward. A muffled groan behind suggests that I might have landed on his face. I quickly wiggle my way off of it, causing continuous grunts from the poor bloke who’s trying to help me lift my ass off his face. In other circumstances and with someone else, it would have been hot. But this is the coffee douchebag, and this is me.
Miraculously, the plane stops shaking, and I somehow manage to throw myself over the divider and land on my seat to my utter surprise. I totally expected to land face forward. The moment I’m in place, I start buckling up with shaking hands. I’m not leaving this seat even if I have to pee.
The man’s face appears a few moments later. He looks guarded. No wonder—I’ve assaulted him in multiple ways in the past minutes. Or was it hours?
“You okay?” he rasps after clearing his throat.
“Yeah,” I reply, biting my lips. “Thanks for the help. And sorry. For your,” I wave my hand at my lap, “you know.”
He nods and withdraws back to hide from me. Only to pop back up a moment later.
“How the hell did you end up on my side from there?” He points at my lap too.
Hmm, a very good question indeed. We’re seated in the middle of the plane with two-two-two seat configuration, and my row has a lavatory too.
“The bathroom on my side was busy. For a long time.” Iwince. “I couldn’t wait any longer. So I went around.” I point at the walk path behind me. Three rows behind us, first class is separated from the next one by a small space and curtains where people are usually greeted when they enter a plane.
“And ended up with your ass on my face,” he confirms with a nod. A corner of his lip twinkles as he shakes his head. “Fucking hell, something like that can happen only with you around.”
I narrow my eyes. “What is that supposed to mean? You don’t even know me.”
He levels me with a stare. “And I prefer not to. You do something to mess up my life on every occasion we unfortunately meet.”
I press my lips tighter, listening to his vile but somewhat truthful words. Ever since we met each other about two months ago, something always happens. Usually to him. And to his dick. The poor attachment has suffered enough from my hands.
“You ruined my coffee. Every single time you made it.” His voice turns hard. “You spilled the scorching hot liquid on me.” Even harder now. “You burned my building.”
“Just one kitchen!” I lift my index finger in the air. Should have gone with the middle one.
“Building,” he states firmly. “The city shut it down after you left to go to the hospital.” He regards me with an accusing stare. “Because you were so hurt, right?”
I swallow but keep my mouth shut. Even though I want to rage. Not very rightfully so. I did lie in the hospital. Not because I was scared of him, but because I didn’t have insurance. So I said I was homeless and didn’t have an ID. Which was true. Somewhat. I forgot my driver’s license in Lulu’s apartment when I asked her to keep my suitcase with what I had left for a few days until I made some arrangements.Having luggage parked in the coffee shop pantry would look suspicious.
So when the hospital staff asked for my ID, I didn’t have it on me. It was like a sign from above to not bother and just go with a lie. I didn’t mean to escape the law (I think).
