“I know I will.” He braced himself when her long fingers hooked in the waistbands of his jeans and boxer briefs, pulling both garments down over his hips and beneath his ass. His dick sprang forward with such ferocity it was a wonder she didn’t lose an eye. And the relief of being released from the confines of his pants was so acute it nearly dropped him to his knees.
“Wow,” she whispered, her hot breath swirling around him. Even that small caress, that intangible touch was enough to make his shaft jerk and throb. He was so hard he was standing nearly vertical, so swollen with blood he was almost purple. “I knew you were a…a big man, but…” She hesitated. “You’re…um…”—she bit her lip, blinking up at him—“going to be quite a mouthful.”
It occurred to him then that maybe she wasn’t up for this. Some women didn’t like doing it, especially when it involved a piece of equipment that was…well… Okay, so he wasn’t bragging here, but when the good Lord saw fit to add the twig to his berries, the big guy in the sky had looked around and upgraded to a stick. Dan had been in enough locker rooms to know that not only did he pack more than his fair share, but he also wasn’t as…um…pretty as some. He shaft was thick, roped with veins, curved slightly upward, and his glans flared proud and plump at the end. For the unaccustomed, he probably looked a bit…aggressive.
“Penni,” he husked, having to dig down deep in order to utter the next words, especially when all he wanted to do was grab the back of her head and press her face and mouth against him, “you don’t have to—”
“Shut up,” she told him, and he grinned. There’s that adorably blunt New Yorker I know. Then she wrapped a hand around the base of his shaft and angled him toward her mouth like he’d told her to do. When she licked her lips, his smile disappeared and he held his breath. But just as she leaned forward, just as her mouth opened, the plane hit turbulence…
“There’s been a change in plans,” Chelsea said, dragging Dan from his delightful, painful reverie. He turned to see her drop her cell phone into her satchel, and covertly adjusted his stance since he was hard. Again. Or maybe I should say still. As far as he knew, he’d maintained his boner even while he and Zoelner had fought the turbulence of a passing thunderstorm, even when they had been forced to coast into the airport on fumes, and even though the digital display on his diver’s watch told him over three hours had passed since he’d been in that bathroom.
He was the equivalent of a walking, talking side effect in one of those Viagra commercials. For an erection lasting longer than four hours…get laid as quickly as possible. At least that was the medical advice he was going to go with, whether it was sound or not.
“What kind of change?” Zoelner asked, hopping down the jet’s four steps after having secured Winterfield inside the aircraft.
“The kind where we’re headed to Chicago instead of Washington,” Chelsea said.
Dan exchanged a look with Penni. She reached to take his hand and he didn’t hesitate to pull her close to his side, taking comfort in her sweet touch, her solid presence next to him. They were supposed to drop Winterfield off at some interrogation site outside DC, and any deviation from that course could only mean one thing: bad news.
“What now?” Zoelner sighed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the two pilots were nowhere around. Neither Dan nor Zoelner were licensed to fly jets, so a couple of Air Force flyboys who’d been stationed nearby had been brought in to get them all home, no questions asked. That went for the airport crew that had been scrambled into action in the middle of the night too. Once again, Dan thanked his lucky stars for friends in high places. Although, come to think of it, el Jefe and the Joint Chiefs probably qualified as friends in the highest of places.
“Morales said the Cusco assets he sent in to gather up our stuff and go release Kozlov discovered the Russian dead,” Chelsea told them, her mouth twisting, her face filling with remorse and self-reproach. And, yeah, okay, Kozlov was probably a fucker of a guy who’d undoubtedly done some terrible shit in his life, but they’d left him there, taped, vulnerable, defenseless.
“Jesus.” Dan ran a hand over his hair, his head spinning. Why? Why would anyone want to eighty-six Kozlov?
“It gets worse,” Chelsea said.
Dan knew he was going to regret asking, but… “How so?”
“The ground crew at the airport is dead too. Morales’s assets say policia are surrounding the place and all flights into and out of Cusco have been canceled for the day.”