Peyton

FLYING IS EVERYTHING.

It’s complete freedom, it’s blood pumping fast to and from my heart as every nerve ending in my body is tense and alive, primed for survival in an environment the human body isn’t designed to explore.

When I’m flying, I’m my true self and that’s when I feel closer to my mom.

That’s why I did my first jump, to remember her on the first anniversary of her death; she died in a plane crash.

I almost didn’t jump that first time, I froze when my turn came, strapped to my instructor, shaking uncontrollably.

Because when you’re there, the second before you jump, before you choose to fall, you’re truly alone with yourself.

They say that in the moment right before you die, you see your whole life in front of your very eyes; I don’t know if that’s true, but believe me, it’s true when you take that crazy leap of faith and all that surrounds you is the sky and the clouds.

The first few times you’re falling, you have no control and all you’re waiting for is to pull on the lever that will deploy your parachute.

Then you learn to do that at the latest time possible; it isn’t just because this is how competitive skydiving works. You want to be in the air as long as you can, you never want that freedom to end.

Every time I jump out of a plane or off of a stationary object, I close my eyes in that first second when my feet leave solid ground.

My mom’s smile, her kind blue eyes, is what I’ve always seen behind my eyelids.

Except today.

Flying inside a wind tunnel is different than skydiving outside; yes you experience some degree of freedom, but the element of danger, the life and death kind of thrill, is almost completely taken away from indoors flying.

And yet today, the moment I fly inside the tallest wind tunnel in the world, my mom isn’t who I see when I close my eyes.

I see her.

Lenley.

My beautiful, sweet, feisty, corruptible, Snow White.

I think about her warmth, her softness, the way she tasted in the museum’s bathroom.

I know she’s here today, she told me she’d have to come to the office when I called her last night.

Fuck, I’ve never called anyone to say goodnight. I like women.

No, scratch that, I love women.

They’re fun and every single one of them has something different to offer and I want them all. The beautiful, Instagram model types; the sporty, athletic ones who have almost more stamina than I do; the rich girls who wouldn’t even look at me if I didn’t come from a wealthy family; the sexy ones, the uptight ones—who often are the best surprise in the sack—the blondes, the redheads, the brunettes.

I love every single one of them and they all know that with me—and my friends—they’re guaranteed one hell of a time; we honor our Devils name for sure.

A good time is all that’s ever been on offer. I live life on the fast lane, jumping off aircrafts and falling fast, plummeting thousands of feet. I live chasing one thrill after another, one girl after another and I’ve never even thought about slowing down.

Obviously this boring little town couldn’t handle me and my friends; it didn’t matter that we never lied to anyone and we never promised anything more than one night of fast, thrilling fun.

We’ve always been clear about it, the ride is over the second the night turns into day, the second we land.

That’s why they started calling us The Heartbreakers; but our hearts have never been part of the offer, so any woman who gave us hers, did so at her own risk.

We didn’t really care, we’re always clear with the girls we party with, but the rumors started spreading; there’s even a ridiculous challenge trending on all main social media, at least locally, #tameTheHeartbreakers.

That’s what made our reputation go viral, that ended up losing us a few sponsors and prompted Dad to tell us to clean up our act.

Lenley is the solution to our problem, because let’s face it, there’s no way the guys and I could ever stay celibate for an entire season.

And if while we get our rocks off safely and discreetly, we manage to get under Penn’s skin at the same time? That’s what I call a fucking win-win.

Then why do I see Lenley’s bright green eyes when I close my eyes the second after I jump?

Why have I been calling her to say goodnight every night this week when we were too busy with training and too tired to hang out?

I know Channing and Jameson have been calling her and texting her too.

Truth be told, at first I was worried that sticking to one girl for months would be boring and this deal would never work. But Lenley was too tempting and the chance of pissing off Penn was too good to pass up.

I think it’s good that she proved to be more interesting than any other girl we’ve ever hung out with; if we don’t get bored, we won’t be tempted to stray and get caught up in more scandals.

We won’t be tempted to settle down with “girlfriends” and get distracted from our two main goals; win Nationals, become World Champions and destroy Darrius Penn.

“Hey dude,” Chan says as we make our way to the locker room. “Want to grab something to eat before we go home?”

I shake my head, taking off my wingsuit and changing back into my jeans; I’ll shower at home, I don’t feel in the mood to see any of the Angels if I take too long in here, especially not Penn. “You go ahead. I just want to find Len and say hi; she said she’d be in the office today.”

Tags: Melissa Adams Erotic
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