Angel laughed. “Honey, they’re already calling him a frontline veteran of the culture wars.”
Chapel fumed, but he had worse enemies to face yet. Maybe someday, when the case was broken wide open, he’d have a chance to tell the real story and take Franklin Hayes down a peg.
Maybe.
IN TRANSIT: APRIL 15, T+76:06
Once they were in the air, CPO Andrews brought a bottle of Scotch and three tumblers out of the galley and they all shared a drink. “This is good stuff. Sorry you can’t join in, Angel,” Chapel said, as he sipped at the brown liquor.
“I’ve got a Red Bull here and some leftover Chinese food,” Angel told him over the phone that lay on the table. “Works for me.”
Chapel exhaled deeply and lay back in his seat. “We should all try to get some sleep,” he said, and the women agreed. CPO Andrews helped them recline the seats so they became full, comfortable beds. She dimmed the cabin lights and then headed back toward her galley.
“You’re not going to sleep in one of these things?” Julia asked.
“I have a bunk back there and a little TV set,” Andrews said, shrugging. Chapel thought she might have winked at Julia, but he couldn’t be sure. “I’ll be fine.”
Before she left, Chapel had one question for her. He glanced toward the front of the cabin, toward the jet’s cockpit. “I’ve never seen the pilot of this plane,” he said.
“No, and you won’t,” Andrews told him. “He has his own exit from the cockpit, and he never needs to come back here. Hollingshead wanted it that way — he holds all kinds of meetings in this jet, and the things he has to say aren’t for everyone’s ears. Don’t worry about the pilot. He has no idea what we’re up to, and he doesn’t want to know. He’s cleared to receive my orders about where we fly to and that’s it. If we need to communicate with him or vice versa, there’s an intercom system, but it’s only used in emergencies.”
Chapel nodded. It was for the best, of course. CPO Andrews had probably wrecked her career already by conspiring with him and Julia. There was no need for the pilot to be implicated.
“Good night,” Andrews said, and she headed aft.
“Good night,” he told her. He lay down in his seat-turned-bed and grabbed a blanket. Before he could pull it over himself, though, Julia came and lay down next to him, spooning up against him in the seat. He didn’t ask why. Frankly, he was glad for her warmth lying against him.
Julia said nothing. She pulled a pillow around to support her head, pulled the blanket up over their shoulders, and was probably out like a light. Maybe she was learning a few things, like how to sleep anywhere and whenever she was given the chance.
He regretted that she’d had to learn that. Or what it felt like to kill a man. But he was grateful she’d been there — grateful that she’d saved his life so many times, but also just grateful that he’d gotten a chance to know her. To be with her.
For a long while he just lay next to her, watching her red hair stir in front of his face, blowing this way and that with his breath. Eventually he lifted his arm and gently placed it around her waist.
“Mrmph,” she muttered, and snuggled back against him some more. The smell of her, the presence of her, filled his senses. It was like they were alone, floating on a cloud high over the mountains, high above the world.
He couldn’t help it. He leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. In response she brought her hand down and placed it over his. He kissed her neck again and she shivered, then laced her fingers through his.
“Can’t sleep?” she whispered. She wriggled back against him again and gasped in surprise. He had a pretty good idea what she’d just felt. “Apparently not,” she said. She turned her head so she could look at him over her shoulder.
“I’m just glad you’re here,” he told her.
She twisted around enough to kiss him on the lips. “Me too,” she told him. She rearranged herself to spoon him again as if she planned on going back to sleep, but she stroked his thumb with hers, and he knew she was at least half awake now.
He kissed her neck again, and this time her back arched. She let out a pleased sigh and pulled his hand up to her mouth. She kissed each of his fingers in turn. “This might be our last chance,” she said, and he knew exactly what she meant, but he waited for her to make the next move.
She did so by bringing his hand down to cup her breast. He squeezed it gently and she sighed again. Through her sweater and her bra he felt her nipple begin to harden and he stroked it with his fingers. He kissed her neck more passionately now, and she squirmed against him, rubbing up and down on him until he couldn’t stand it. He moved his hand down between her legs and felt the heat there, heat and a little dampness, even through the thick fabric of her jeans.
“Ohhh,” she said. “Chapel… last time, in Atlanta, it was about comfort. This time it’s more. Right?”
“Yes,” he told her, and he pressed his mouth against her neck, her back. He unbuttoned her jeans and unzipped them. She moved his hand down inside her panties and he slipped a finger inside of her, feeling how wet she was.
With her help he pushed her pants down, then unzipped his own fly. Her hand found him and guided him into her from behind. Their bodies fit together effortlessly. She was more than ready for him and he grabbed her hip, ready to thrust deeply into her, but she pushed back. “No,” she said. “Take it slowly. In fact, don’t move. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself.”
“Oh,” he said. “Should I… stop?” He moved his hand against her body, his fingers making circles through her damp pubic hair, finding the right spot.
“No,” she told him. “No, I didn’t say that. I didn’t say that at… all.” Her ass slid back and forth against him in tiny movements that were going to drive him insane. “Just… stay there. Oh, yes. Right there.” She ground against him and he started to gasp. It was torture, utterly sweet torture, and he desperately wanted to grab her and just fuck her, but he knew how to obey orders. The tip of his index finger made tiny circles on her clitoris and she moved with her own rhythm, her own pace. He could feel her body shivering, feel her rising toward climax. Deep inside her, he felt his own body surging with blood as she took him along for the ride.
“Right there,” she said again, and pushed her hand down over his, crushing his fingers against her body. “Right… yes… there… yessss… Don’t you dare stop,” Julia told him, and pushed his hand back to where it had been. The whole time her ass shifted against him, rubbing up and down in tiny increments until he complied. He forgot all about — whatever it was that had made him stop — and moved his finger in quicker, ever smaller circles until Julia was bucking against him, thrusting backward with her ass again, and again, and again, and—
“Chapel, I’m going to come,” she told him, and looked back over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to — I’m going to—” Her lips were slightly parted and her hair had fallen down over one of her eyes. “I want you to come with me,” she begged, and he kissed her deeply even as their bodies jerked and ground together, and he felt himself surging, passing the point where stopping was even an option. She pushed herself back against him one last time and then put her free hand up over her face as her body squeezed him inside of her, as they came together. He pulled his hand free of hers and lifted her fingers away from her face so he could watch her, watch her eyes as she came. He stared deep into her eyes and saw what he was looking for there, even as his own body released all his tension into her. He cried out and she covered his mouth with hers and they kissed, just kissed for the longest time as they rode out the wave of their shared orgasm.