Ride Me Dirty(6)

By: Vanessa Vale

“What does that mean exactly?”

“Ever been to Montana before?”

“When I was young. My uncle lived there.”

He gave a slight nod. “I run a horse ranch.”

“I pegged you for a cowboy.”

“I pegged you for a city girl.”

I glanced at my laptop and my phone. Saw my crisp white blouse and slim jeans. “Yeah, you can take the girl out of the office, but you can't take the office out of the girl. Right?”

He looked at me for a minute. “I don't know about that. Maybe you just need to try.”

I bristled at his words, then sighed. “Believe me, it’s not that easy. I've been trying my whole life.” I’d done everything the books said to do to relax. Beach vacations. Yoga. White noise machines and a monthly massage appointment. All they got me was stacks of unanswered emails, a sore shoulder from too much downward dog, nightmares about buzzing insect attacks and complete mortification as a stranger rubbed lotion into my less than perfect body while pretending not to notice how utterly far from perfect it truly was.

The flight attendant brought our drinks on a tray, handed me mine, then Jack his.

I took a swig of the frosty drink and felt the alcohol sit on my tongue, then slide coolly down my throat.

“Headed to Montana to visit your uncle?” he asked, adept enough to know he needed to change topics.

“My uncle died a few months ago.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” he murmured.

I offered a small shrug. “I was twelve the last time I saw him. My parents had some kind of falling out and we never went back.”

“Falling out?”

I took another sip of my drink. “They never told me. I asked, believe me, but they wouldn't say. Surprisingly, he left his house to me and I'm going up there to clean it out and sell.”

“It's in Bozeman then?” If this plane ever took off, we'd land there.

“No, Bridgewater. A small town about two hours away.” Was it my imagination, or did his eyes narrow at the mention of the town? I was about to ask, but the buzzing of the airplane’s intercom system drew my attention.

“Okay, folks.” The captain’s voice boomed through the overhead speaker, preventing Jack from saying more. “While you can see it's still raining, the storm's headed east and the runway's open. We're fifth in line for takeoff.”

The flight attendant came around then to collect the cups. Not wanting to waste the drink, I downed the rest in two gulps before handing it over. I had no choice but to put my laptop away since the tray table had to go up. We started to move then, slowly up the line as one plane took off after another. Quicker than I expected, we were in the air and the effects of the alcohol were kicking in. Now I was buzzing on both his scent and the vodka, and all I could think about was finding out more about this sexy cowboy.

“I never thought to ask, but are you heading home to your ranch in Montana or is it in Colorado?”

“Montana,” Jack replied. “Born and raised. I was in Denver for business. My turn.”

When I frowned in confusion, he said, “My turn to ask a question.”

“Okay. Shoot.” The alcohol was filling me with a warm fuzzy feeling and I knew I wouldn’t normally open up like this. But what the hell? I’d never see him again anyway.

“I don't see a ring. You mentioned an ex?”

“Divorced. You?”

“Never married.”

“Girlfriend?” I was dying to know and the liquor was loosening my tongue.

“No. Boyfriend?”

I shook my head. “Not enough time. My friend says—” I cut off my sentence, realizing I was sharing too much. It didn't matter that I would never see this man again once the plane landed in Bozeman. It didn't matter how easy he was to talk to. There were some things a girl just didn't share. Like the fact that I needed wild and crazy monkey sex up against a wall and at least five orgasms.

“Your friend says…?”

I looked at his gorgeous face, his very broad shoulders, the entire package. I could just tell him what Elaine said. I could proposition him, tell him I wanted to have monkey sex with him. He was single, had said I was beautiful. While I doubted we could be in the Mile High Club—the bathroom on this plane was barely big enough for one, let alone two people—we could easily find a hotel near the airport when we landed. I bet he was good, too. Really good. Those hands, the cock that was clearly outlined in his jeans. He could easily rock my world. The words were right there on the tip of my tongue. Are you interested in a one-night stand?

Elaine so would have done it. But I chickened out. Hell, I didn't want to be rejected. Chad had found me lacking. If Jack did, it would be crushing.