CHAPTER 7: SEBASTIAN
595 Words
"Big private jet, Bastian. You must be making up for something very small.” She laughed at another one of her absurd jokes.
Morina had a whole vibe to her. She was scared of manmade things and money—or maybe didn’t really like them. Yet, she was curious enough to walk up the jet stairs with me and talk the pilot’s ear off about how to fly the plane.
He smiled at her the whole time as if she had some enamoring quality. When she saw the flight attendants, I witnessed what made her so likable as she said, “I think you’re absolutely beautiful. Hopefully he pays you for having to sit here waiting for him while he gallivants around Miami.” Spitfire.
She was absolutely okay saying the first thing that popped into her head, barreling straight into whatever emotion was on the tip of her tongue, and not thinking about the consequences. It was unique.
Around a man like me, most people mulled over their words, practically chewing them up before letting them creep from their mouths. The flight attendant was one of the women I’d had the pleasure of knowing time and time again. She didn’t hesitate with her answer.
“He pays me very well, in more ways than one.” Morina’s eyebrows rose.
“Well, then. Good for you both.” The flight attendant made her way up to the front where she talked to the pilot.
Morina whispered, “So, big plane, hot flight attendant that talks you up. You’re for sure making up for things, I think.” She smirked to herself.
Her insults and the way she doubted me added to my d**k’s attraction to her. I’d barely been able to stop from f*****g her in the car on the way over. This woman with her messy waves and lush curves wasn’t my usual, but damn, I wanted to violate that smirk off her face.
“You want to find out, piccola ragazza?”
“What does that mean?” Her deep-blue eyes squinted.
“Little girl.” She was young, but the Italian I didn’t use much anymore had slipped.
“Little?” She giggled as we taxied down the runway.
“Your flight attendant is small. I’m not. And I highly doubt I’m small compared to the women you normally date.”
“Shorter, that’s for sure.” I assessed her.
“And younger, definitely younger.”
Why the f**k had I brought her here? She’d goaded me a little, but something about Miami had me doing stupid s**t I never normally did. I didn’t indulge in women the way I used to.
I’d learned my lesson time and time again. They disappointed me like most everything in the world. And Miami was no different. I remembered being there as a child, remembered my father telling me to learn from the dark nights on the streets where he exchanged briefcases and deals.
Miami was somewhere I’d felt nothing. Been nothing. Did I need to prove myself to her all of a sudden? To the city? She scoffed like she wasn’t the least bit swayed.
“I think I would have been more impressed if you’d f****d me in the car.” I didn’t answer her.
Instead, I let the flight attendant bring us each a glass of water, as she went over her normal lines with guests. We could have food made, but this flight was short, and we had to be sure to buckle for landing when the pilot made the announcement.
- Writer
