Sweet Surrender

**I apologize at how long this is. Also it does take a while before there is any sex. However, I hope everyone likes it. Please let me know by voting and/or emailing me. :)***

Luke glanced at the woman sitting beside him and found it hard to fight his grin. For the last 30 minutes, the woman had been doing deep-breathing exercises, apparently without much success.

From the moment she'd sat down beside him on the airplane headed to Jamaica, she'd had a death grip on the arm of her seat as if it were her last lifeline. And the truly sad thing was that the plane hadn't taken off yet. It had simply taxi'd out on the runaway and there they had sat waiting for the gods of aviation to grant them favor for the last 30 minutes.

Luke had to admit against his better judgment, he was enjoying the woman's mental angst. Sure, he knew it was wrong to feel joy at someone else's pain, but truthfully he didn't care. She had seemed to get underneath his skin from the minute she'd sat down. She had brushed by him, rubbing her body swiftly against his before plopping into her seat without even a small 'excuse me'.

Suddenly an eye popped open and he got a blast of wintergreen ice as she glared daggers at him.

"What?" she drawled in a sweet southern voice and just like that, he was smitten. Luke had one weakness. Very few people were aware of it, but nothing dropped his defenses like a southern girl. Didn't matter what age, or how she looked, he was putty in their hands. Yeah, he was easy. All the blame had to rest on the shoulders of his army recruiter who'd sent to him Basic in South Carolina.

All of a sudden he realized that he'd been starring at her for minutes, long, long minutes if the expression on her face was any clue.

"Huh?" he muttered, and barely suppressed a wince. Yeah, master of the spoken word was he.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No, why?" Without meaning to his gaze fell to the full lips forming the words. And he felt his stomach drop out the plane. Full luscious lips that brought to mind lazy Sundays whiled away beneath the sheets, that unfortunately at the moment were snarled up at him.

"Uh, no, are you suppose to have something on your face?"

"I was wondering why you've been staring at me for the last 45 minutes," she said, turning fully to face him then.

"Uh," And Luke almost popped himself in the back of the head. This chick had the power to reduce him to mush in just a few milliseconds. "I was wondering if you were ok. Plus I was kinda hoping you weren't gonna upchuck. This flight is seriously gonna suck ass if something starts yacking."

Instead of smiling like he had intended her to, she glared at him. That in itself was unusual. Shit, Luke thought, woman had been doing whatever he'd wanted since the cradle. To have this....shrew....not respond to him as he had for her was in a word, disconcerting, if just not damn annoying.

"Listen, GI Joke, I'm gonna try to be nice here and not rip you a new one but you're really gonna have to work with me here, ok?"

"Really," he quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement. "And how do you plan to do that, baby cakes?"

Just like that, her brows dipped down in a perfect V and he knew that he might have overdone it a smidge.

"Listen, dickweed, today is not a day to play with me, ok? I'm trapped on a tin can, seated next to Captain Punk, flying, flying, FUCKING FLYING. So if you want to live to see your next birthday, hell, to see if this plane lands, DO. NOT. FUCK. WITH. ME."

Luke could almost see the steam flaming from her nostrils and felt nothing but amusement. This little slip of a woman expected to frighten him? He'd faced scarier hang nails than her. She, well, he thought he could handle her in his sleep. But he had to hand it to her, she was great for a laugh.

He glanced up and down her body, lingering on the good parts: lips, tits and hips. The three essentials in his own expert opinion. He wasn't ashamed to admit he paused longer on her tits than anything else though. But in his own defense, they were the nicest pair he'd seen in a while.

The unnamed shrew rolled her eyes before closing them to continue her deep breathing. This allowed her a chance to stare at her tits without feeling like a dirty ol' man. They were spectacular in his unbiased opinion. More than a handful and he had big hands.

At 6'5, 315 lbs, he was a man not to be reckoned with. His body had been honed by the military to be an elite fighting machine and Luke didn't mind bragging but he had been good at his job. However, after 20 years of living out of a knapsack, he was tired. That's why when an old army buddy had extended an invite to his lavish beach wedding in Kingston, Jamaica and hinted at the chance of a job in Blaine's private security firm, he'd packed his shit. Which is how he came to be seated next to the most ill-tempered woman of the century. And to tell you the truth, Luke hadn't had this much fun since he'd gotten to blow up that land mine in Fallujah.

"So, are you gonna ignore me the whole ride, 'cause I gotta warn ya, if ignored, I just get worse," Luke informed her.

Once again he was gifted with a one-eye salute. "Do you go around trying to deliberately piss people off or are you just gifting me with that special service today?"

"Mmm, must be just you. Most women love me." He couldn't stop the Cheshire cat grin that accompanied that statement.

She rolled her eyes before replying. "Of that I have no doubt. Just another clue that civilization as we know it is going to hell in a hand basket it."

He snorted and turned toward her. He couldn't keep his eyes from roaming over her lips before continuing to visually caress her body. She really wasn't that much to look at. She was large. He didn't even try to say chunky, phat with a ph, or any of those cutesy terms people use to make their friends or even themselves feel better nowadays. However there was something that drew him to her. Maybe it was the way she spit at him when no other woman had since...well, ever. Or maybe he'd been trapped in a humvee with 4 other guys with nothing to look at but camels and goats too long.

"So we're already found out that I don't crank your tractor. I guess I shouldn't ask this, but what does? Are you a lesbian? Like farm animals? Weird satanic rituals to appease your lord and master, Lucifer?"

She stared at him astonishment. "Ok, first of all, did you just say 'crank your tractor'? Who the hell says that anymore? Secondly, why the hell should it matter what gets my motor running? What business is it of yours?"

"None, but I'm naturally curious. That's why my friends call me whiskers," he joked, using the classic SNL joke.

Then the most amazing thing happened. The hell beast actually laughed. Luke was stunned at the beauty beside him who had taken the place of his hellacious travel partner. Her whole demeanor had transformed and left him gasping. But as quickly as she'd come, Beauty departed, leaving him mourning her loss as is he'd lost a limb.

"Plus," he said, his voice subdued and filled with long, "It's a long flight to Jamaica. Would you rather sit here and think about all the ways the plane could crash or..." He paused and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Or spend that time making a new friend, a gorgeous, strong friend who would throw himself over you in the event of a crash."

She chuckled, "That's awfully gallant of you except then I'd be the one on the bottom so I'd hit the ground first."

At her words, thoughts of her underneath him filled his mind. And just that quick, he was lost. She didn't have to be beautiful in the traditional way. She did something to him that was unexplainable. But for the first time in his life he didn't want or need to explain it.

He thrust his hand out to her. "I'm Luke, by the way."

She just looked at his hand and burst into laughter. "Of course you are."

"What's that mean?"

"Of course you wouldn't have a name like Richard or Bob. It would have to be something manly like Luke. Bet you were named after some ancestor who wrestled cows or some shit like that," and she rolled her eyes. If she kept that up, he was afraid they'd roll so far back they would get stuck.

"Well for your information, Miss Smarty, I was actually named after a literary figure." Just seconds after the words emerged from his lips, he could only think please, please don't ask me which book.

"Really? I like to read, maybe I've read the book."

Dammit. "I doubt very seriously you have. It was a very old book that struck a cord with my mother during her pregnancy and she named me after the male lead character."

"Try me," and just like that he knew that there was no way getting around her. The steel was evident in her voice.

" 'Her Richest Desire'", he mumbled, turning his face away from her.

"Excuse me? What was that? Did you say 'Her Richest Desire'? The bodice ripper about Delilah, the poor orphan and Lord Luke, the benevolent benefactor who saved her from a life of servitude and despair?"

'I see you read it," he quipped.

'Uh, yeah, like when I was, uh, 12. But I don't understand. That book was terrible. Luke was an asshole. He treated Delilah like shit, plus he made her life a living hell during the whole book. Why would -- Never mind, I understand now," she said, nodding her head.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, I've read that some mother's just KNOW what their children are gonna be like when they grow up. Sorta like when a child is named Damian and goes on to worship the devil. Your mother must have known you would grow up to be a gigantic jerk just like the character."

She grinned up at him cheekily, making him want to strangle her and kiss her all at the same time.

"Well Miss High and Mighty, what's your name? Olivia, Jane, Tabitha? Something hoighty toighty like that, huh?" he sneered at her, leaning into her space. She was magnetic almost, pulling him closer and closer to her every second.

"My name is Emily-Jane, if you must know," she replied, looking down her button nose at him.

"You're a hyphenated!" he exclaimed, pointing at her as he laughed.

"What?"

"Your name is hyphenated. God, you are so pretentious even your name is stuck up."

"I am not," she argued, the drawl in her voice becoming more pronounced. "You don't even know me. I am not stuck up."

"Sure you are. I bet you fly to Jamaica every week to meet some Latin lover who roughs you up for a few days before you fly back to Atlanta to plan parties for Daddy. And to make it worse, you're a redneck hyphenated."

Emily-Jane gazed at him incredulously. "What the hell are you blathering on about?"

Luke simply grinned at her, and in that moment wanted to kiss the tip of her nose for some reason. Thankfully he was smart enough not to do just that or he'd probably be leaving the plane on a stretcher with her following in handcuffs.

Just then the captain came over the intercom. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, we are cleared for take off. There appears to be clear skies today and with the help of the trade winds, you should be partying on the beach in Jamaica in 4 or 5 hours from now. Thanks for traveling Delta and once again have a great vacation."

Luke could feel the plane start to move forward and braced himself. He glanced at Emily-Jane and saw that in preparation she had jammed her head back up and her hands were tight around the armrest. For some reason the idea of her being frightened didn't sit well with him, and without realizing it, he reached over, grabbing her closest hand.

Emily-Jane looked at him from beneath her lashes and without saying it, he felt her thanks. She laid her head on his broad shoulder as the plane took to the air and nothing was said until the plane leveled out. As soon as the plane was horizontal, her head popped up and her little hand was jerked from his as if he had a STD. He swiftly understood the meaning of bereft.

"Thanks," she muttered without meeting his eye.

"Don't mention it, squirt. Is this the first time you've flown?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?," she asked dryly.

"Well, it could have been the fingernail impressions imprinted in my hand or it could be I'm psychic. Take your pick," he said, winking at her.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No prob. So if you hate to fly, why are you even on this flight?"

"My stupid sister." And that's all she said. As if that would keep from getting any other information out of her.

"Squirt, you got 2 seconds to spill or I'm gonna start using the torture techniques the Army taught me."

Emily-Jane stared at him for a few moments as if weighing her options before apparently realizing resistance was futile. "My stupid older sister decided she just HAD to get married on the beach in Jamaica. Now she knows that South Carolina has beaches and those don't include a fricking plane ride but does she care? Noooo.... She had to have this damn wedding. So here I am, squeezing my lard ass into a seat 4 times too small, praying we don't crash."

"Well, you know how women are when they get married." She leveled him with a look of such suffering he couldn't contain his laugh.

"Aww, squirt, it's not all bad. Just look at it this way. Without your stupid sister's wedding, you would never have met me."

"And that in itself would have been a tragedy against all humanity," and those gorgeous eyes rolled once again.

"Damn straight."

She giggled and glanced out the window beside her, giving him the chance to peruse her again. Her hair, a nondescript brown, appeared to reach the middle of her back. As he watched her peer at the clouds outside the window, he couldn't keep from thinking how silky those tresses would feel clenched into his fist as she kneeled before him. She would smile up at him as she licked his cum from her lips.

"Can I offer you or your wife a blanket, some peanuts, or a beverage," the stewardess broke into his thoughts, causing him to jump violently.

"Uh, no, we're fine. Thanks so much though," he said before Emily-Jane could contradict the other woman. She allowed it, her only motion a small tightening of her lips. Luke couldn't explain why he had let the flight attendant think they were married. But the more he thought of the beguiling woman being HIS, the more he liked it.

Luke waited for her to explode on him and it wasn't long before she didn't disappoint him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What?"

"I might have wanted some peanuts, douche. I mean, did you stop to think for a second that I do have a mouth and I've been taking care of myself for a long time. Hell, I mastered the power of speak at 6 months old."

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you are angry?"

Emily-Jane looked at him with her mouth open a little. To say it wasn't a great look for her was a major understatement. However, without missing a single beat, she asked, "Are you high? 'Cause you should really put down the pipe, dude. That shit'll fuck you up. One day you're fine, the next you're naked in a Costco, staring aimlessly at the cantaloupes. That shit happened to like my second cousin. He went to medical school, now he doesn't even know his last name and," she leaned in close, whispering, "my mom says he has to wear a helmet."

"You are he-larious."

"Thanks. I'm here all night. Try the veal and remember to tips your waitress," she chuckled.

"So are you a comedienne or something," he asked once he could breathe again from laughing so hard.

"Nah, I work for a bank."

"Oh. I'm in the Army," he said.

"No shit, Sherlock," was her intelligent reply.

He glanced down at his attire. He was in civvs so he wasn't sure how she knew he was military. Before he could ask, she enlightened him.

"You have the look."

"What look?" Already sure what her response was going to be.

"That, 'I've been trapped in a desert country for 14 months with no T & A and I'm looking to get lucky." She shrugged. " I figured military or prison. But I guess in prison you would have at least gotten some ass so I gave you the benefit of the doubt."

"Actually, its been 2 years since T & A, since you asked."

Emily-Jane grimaced. "Dude....no wonder. Hey, when we land you should totally pick up some random island girl and have at it. Oooo. Better yet, 2 chicks at the same time. You got 2 years to make up for here. I mean, that's totally what I would do."

He sent her one of her looks right back her to which simply gave him an eat-shit grin. "Thanks so much for the info, midget. Now my life is complete. I've just gotten dating advice from a hobbit."

"Hey, I didn't say anything about dating 'em. I said to tear that shit up and move the fuck on."

Luke could only blink at her in astonishment for her candor. This chick was such a guy. Maybe that's why he liked her. She reminded him of some of his men.

"And while I'm thinking about it, what's with all the name calling? I'm not short. In fact, in women standards, I'm above average height. I am 5'6, thank you very much. 5'6 ¾ to be exact."

"You are a giant among men...er, women, aren't ya?"

"You know it."

He just grinned at her. "But to tell you the truth, I'm 6'5. Anyone not 6'5 and above is short in my book."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. She stared at him as if he had lost his ever-loving mind. And maybe he had. She made him feel....well, she just made him feel. After some of the things he had seen and down in his life, that was the most amazing part. He had never met anyone like her and in that second, he couldn't imagine what his life would have been without her.

"Is there a certain reason you just did a Pepe Lepue on my hand without warning me first?"

"I was so overcome by your beauty I couldn't contain myself any longer. I had to have you near me."

"Dude, we really have to stage an intervention for you 'cause the wacky-weed is not your friend."

He smiled but didn't say anything. He knew it was too early to KNOW this woman was his so he kept his feelings to himself. Plus he had a idea that she was a tough sell when it came to relationships, of the heart or any other.

"Is this your sister's first marriage?" he asked to break the sudden silence.

"Hell no. That's why I'm so pissed. This is her second marriage. Sure, her first husband was a major dick but lord, she almost 40 years old. Now is not the time to be acting like a freaking bridezilla."

"So she told you if you didn't come, she'd kick your ass, huh?"

She smirked at him. "She wish. I've been bigger than her since I was 2. No, she brought out the big guns."

"Said she was gonna tell on ya to mommy and daddy?"

"Shoot, my parents AGREE with me. They told her that she should get married in Charleston and then honeymoon in Jamaica if she wanted to go there so bad. But that was after my mama told her they should just skip the whole ceremony and get married at the courthouse.

"No, my sister, the diabolical fiend that she is, said that if we didn't go to the wedding, we couldn't see the kids anymore. So that's why I'm praying this aluminum bird doesn't decide to plummet to the earth suddenly."

She bent down and grabbed a black hair thingy from her carry-on bag before pulling her long silky hair into a ponytail at the top of her head. This allowed him the chance to see her long graceful neck. And as with every other part of her body revealed to him, his mind ran wild with ideas. He could see himself latching his mouth to the base of her throat as he pressed his cock into her faster and faster. Her hands would be gripping his sweat-slick back as he rode her completion. He knew in that moment he would have to have this woman at any cost.

"Well, now that you know my life story, what's your reason to being on this contraption of death?"

"Same as you. Got a wedding. Ol' Army buddy of mine is taking the plunge. I had some R & R time between assignments so I said I'd come stand up with him."