Playboy Pilot

“Jesus, I need a drink.”

“That’s another thing. We’re only allowed to drink in hotels and clubs here.” He looked me up and down. “We need to cover you up before we go out there, too. I hope you brought that bra I bought you.”

“It’s in my suitcase.”

He took off his jacket. “Take this for now. We have to get out of here.”

Carter placed his hand on the small of my back and led me out of the cockpit.

“Where are we headed?”

He winked and flashed a mischievous grin. “I might know of a little hideaway.”

MY USUAL HIDEAWAY was booked solid. Amari had offered me the couch free of charge until one of his three bedrooms freed up the next morning. If I were alone, I’d have taken him up on it, knowing I was going to crash and be dead to the world when I got there anyway. But Kendall deserved better than sharing a couch while random strangers came and went. Plus, even the thought of anyone checking her out while she slept in her little thin nightshirt riled me up. Rather than take a chance on trying somewhere new in a place like Dubai, I took a room at the hotel the airline put the crew up in. It sure as shit wasn’t ideal, but it was safe, and I needed to get some sleep.

Outside of the airport, I steered Kendall away from the airline employee van that would have taken us to the Hilton Dubai Jumeirah Resort with the rest of the crew. I didn’t want her exposed to any more of my past indiscretions than she already had been. At the cab line, we managed to find a shared van without too much of a wait. Kendall and I sat in the rear bench seat, and the other rows were filled with people speaking something I thought might be Farsi.

The back of the seat in front of us held a plastic pouch filled with laminated Local Laws of Dubai pamphlets in different languages. I’d perused them before and figured Kendall would get a kick out it. Slipping the English version out of the seatback, I held it and pointed to the first rule: No public displays of affection. This includes kissing, cuddling, and hand holding. Her palm was flat on the seat. I checked that no one was paying attention and then slipped my hand over hers, weaving our fingers together. She gave me a sidelong look with a gleam in her eye.

Keeping her left hand entwined with mine, she reached over with her right and took the law card out of my hand. She set it on the seat and silently pointed to the second rule: Clothing should be conservative. Females must avoid wearing transparent, low cut, or short clothing. Stomach, shoulders, and back must be covered. Men must cover their chest and shall not display their underwear. She looked straight ahead, making sure that no one in the rows above us were watching, and then slowly began to hike up the skirt on the sundress she was wearing. Knowing it was illegal, and following the slow, sensual movement of her hand as she inched it up little by little, it took everything I had to stifle a groan. By the time she reached the very top of her thigh, I had to shift in my seat. I’d seen her in a fucking bikini, but this…sneaking while people were right there, was purely erotic.

With entwined hands, her skirt pushed up barely covering her underwear, she handed the card to me. Not wanting to draw attention to us by acting strange, and needing a minute to slow the swell of my cock, I spent a minute looking outside the window, pretending to be interested in anything other than the sight of her thighs and the feel of our skin on skin. Then I pointed to rule six on the card: No foul language or indecent gestures whatsoever will be tolerated. I waited until the driver was busy merging onto the highway and the family in front of us was deep in a loud conversation. Then I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “My cock is rock hard wondering if I pushed that skirt up a little higher, if you would stop me.”

She gasped; luckily no one seemed to notice. A few minutes later, we were already getting off the highway, and I knew we weren’t far from our hotel. Kendall turned the rule card in her direction and looked up at me with a devilish grin that said, what other rules could we break? She browsed the list once again and then caught my eye as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth before pointing to rule number nine: Sex outside of marriage is not permitted in Dubai, and it is a fact that this law applies to visitors no matter where you are from.

There wasn’t a law in this damn country I wasn’t going to try my hardest to break while I was here.

UNFORTUNATELY, THE EXCITEMENT and sexual build up from the van ride didn’t last long. The Hilton hotel lobby was fairly empty when we arrived. Except…for a few flight attendants I’d rather have not run into. When two of them approached, I wanted so much to pull Kendall close to me, wrap my arm around her possessively to offer some sort of physical reassurance, but I also didn’t want to get her in trouble with the law. These people in Arab countries didn’t screw around. A few months back, two British flight attendants from a different airline were jailed for ninety days because they were caught sexting each other. Three fucking months.

“Trip,” Jolene purred. “I wasn’t sure you would be here for this layover.” Standing next to Kendall, being with Jolene felt like a lifetime ago. But the reality was, it wasn’t. It was less than a month ago that we were fucking in this very hotel.

Kendall stiffened when Jolene moved closer to me. She spoke quietly but loud enough that both Kendall and I could hear as she slipped a keycard into my lapel pocket. “If you want company later, I’m in room 4030. Lana is next door to me this time, so at least we won’t get complaints about all the banging and loud noises again.” I took a step back away from her, and Jolene noticed Kendall for the first time. “Who are you? Oh…from the plane, right?”

Kendall stared at Jolene. At first, I thought Kendall was going to be upset. But then I caught the fire in her eyes. She was pissed. Although she plastered on a fake smile and extended her hand with a heavy Texan accent I’d never heard before, “Kendall Sparks, nice to meet you.”

Jolene reluctantly gave her hand. Once Kendall had Jolene’s hand in hers, she held it and leaned in. “I’m Carter’s personal therapist. I’m afraid he’s on hiatus from banging and loud noises for a while. Stress-induced erectile dysfunction.” Kendall took the keycard from my pocket and held it out to Jolene. “He won’t be visiting room 4030.” Jolene’s mouth was hanging open as we walked away.

“You know my manhood needs to prove that everything you said back there was bullshit.”

“Maybe if you kept it in your pants once in a while, your manhood would get that opportunity someday.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Perky. I’m going to hold you to that.”

My layover was three nights in Dubai this time, but I told Kendall to only take a room for tonight when we checked in. I hated that we weren’t sharing a room like at Maria Rosa’s. But at least this shit was only for one night. Once we were at Amari’s tomorrow, there would be no eyes watching anymore.

Our rooms were on the eighth floor, three doors down from each other. Arriving at Kendall’s first, I tried to charm my way inside. “Thank you for continuing this journey with me, Perky. There is no way I was ready to let you go. I don’t know what this is, but it’s the best thing I have in my life right now, and I don’t want to lose it.”

“I’m glad I came, too.”

When she opened her door, I attempted to step inside her room, but she stopped me with her palm to my chest. “The hallway has cameras.”

“I’d go to jail for a kiss right now. Might even do hard time to cop a feel at those tits of yours.”

She shook her head but smiled. “You have a wicked tongue.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Go. Get some sleep. You must be exhausted. Tonight I want you to take me out on the town. Take me dancing.”