My Own Mess

knock out

Hello, sorry to butt in, but this chapter has a bit more sexual content and since it has been warned before I probably won't be posting warnings in individual chapters unless I'm concerned about triggers. Again, this book is intended for mature readers, yep? K, thanks, happy read ;)
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The door pressed against my back reverberated again with the insistent knock, and the stewardess asked us to get out in an increasingly irritated English. We smiled with our lips pressed against each other, and a faucet tucked uncomfortably into my waist.

"You know we have to leave eventually, right?" I asked when my mouth pulled away from his, which trailed down my neck, then my breasts, making me shiver.

"What's she going to do, kick us off the plane?" He asked, with an I-know-it-all smirk that made every muscle in my abdomen twitch and my hips move without my command, or permission, over the growing bulk in his jeans.

I heard a small metallic noise and suddenly the support on my back disappeared. I felt that twist in my stomach of when we dream we're falling into nothingness, the difference is that I was actually falling. The pain and the thumping noise my head made hitting the ground distracted me from the fact that I was probably baring my breasts for half the plane. My-god-I-didn't-know-his-name-yet recovered from the scare much faster than me and in what didn't seem like two seconds, he was helping me to a sitting position, sliding his sweatshirt over my exposed body. I straightened my skirt and stood up with his help, under the annoyed gazes of the stewards. Our eyes met and I did the last thing Gabriella Campos would ever do in a situation like that: I laughed - and he followed suit. The disapproving looks had no effect on us. Who knew having nothing to lose could feel so liberating?

"Well, you're even wearing my clothes, I think I've earned the right to a name." He commented as we were escorted back to our seats. Not looking the least bit shy about strutting through a plane in just pants, sneakers, and a cap. And he sure had no reason to, he looked even hotter in the Magic Mike look.

"Seems fair." I shrugged, continuing to walk. "Melina." I said as I reached the row of my seat, turning around and reaching out to shake his hand. He grabbed it and pulled me to him, running his fingers through my hair and gluing our lips together, earning ourselves a lot of giggles and whistles from the people around. When he released me I had a light head and a goofy smile plastered with super glue on my face.

"Magic. Magic Luke." He replied, right up to the twirl, making me laugh. So he did watched it. "We'll talk later?" He asked, winking at me and walking away before I had a chance to answer.

The seatbelt alert lit up, and I hurried back to my seat, sinking into the chair enveloped in the delicious smell of clean laundry and -I finally knew the name- Luke. It kept me company through the turbulence and the rest of the way to Boston, my last but one stop.

To my utter disappointment, I didn't see him for the rest of the flight and the entire process of getting hit by a horde of people trying to get off the plane. I even considered meeting him at customs, but I had no way to be sure he was going to go through it. Besides we had just hooked up and I didn't want to seem clingy, I had no idea what to expect from someone I had casually been with. So I focused on the process of not missing any of the information that the immigration officer asked me, like my name.

By some miracle, I didn't miss any of the answers, managing to get out from under the gaze of the cops and go hunting for the place that sold tickets to my new town. The airport lounge was full, as you'd expect in a college town at the start of a new semester, and my unusual look, with pink hair, flowing skirt and what looked like some school team's sweatshirt, didn't seem to call the slightest attention. I had to ask security for information, but luckily, I made it in time to buy tickets for the next bus to Conwick even though it was scheduled to leave in just two minutes. I remembered Agent Gardner asking me to buy a cell phone as soon as I landed in the US, but that would have to wait. The bus was still boarding when I arrived, joining the line of passengers fitting their luggage on the mass puzzle it was creating. I followed them, settling into my seat, feeling the bus begin to move, missing my old cell phone, with the million songs I used to listen to all the time. But I think the lack of sound suited my new life better. Why have music if I couldn't dance anymore? Yes yes, dramatic, I know. Don't roll your eyes at me!