Flight to Paradise Ch. 05

She turns to face him, stepping in close and steering him up against one of the shooting partitions, one hand traveling the length of him in a slow sweeping seduction, the other wrestling with his jeans. The button on his pants is a challenge one-handed, and Mac resisting her by gripping her hand isn't helping, but as she leans in to kiss him, a slow sexual mating of their lips, he begins to understand his cooperation isn't required. She'll have what she wants, and he should surrender to the inevitable. Finally, his mouth opens to hers in delicious invitation, allowing her to ravish him there while working his pants, delighting that he released her hand to wrap her in his arms, pulling her in to deepen the contact.

He lets her back him up against the shooting partition, ready, eager even, to take what she's promising... until she starts undoing his pants. That he didn't expect! As her nimble fingers work to unbutton his pants, he grabs her hand, holding it, making it clear that she's not going to expose him, but before he can add words to his protest her lips are closing over his in a torrid kiss. And what a kiss! Slow, and deep, her tongue probing and sliding, sucking his lips, the kiss makes promises that no mere words can express. He holds against her onslaught for as long as he can, which to be honest, isn't very long, before he opens his mouth to her, returning the kiss in kind, pulling her into him. We should have another fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and you only live once. As he feels the cool air on his now bare legs, his trousers around his ankles, he groans in lust, and wonderment, that she's making him do things that as late as Monday he wouldn't have considered possible, like standing in a public place with cock hanging out.

She smiles in the kiss when he relents and allows his pants to fall, that iron will already bending under the strain she's placing on him. It's clear he didn't want her to expose him, but she'd pushed those objections aside with ease. Pulling back from the kiss, she smiles at him as she slowly, and with more hip movement than strictly necessary, wiggles out of her own shorts and panties. She's already wet for him, and as he closes in on her again, his lips covers her own as his finger slices into her with unerring precision, making her rise up on her toes, moaning with the penetration and the utter eroticism of what they're doing, the kiss becoming frantic in its intensity as he finger fucks her.

Even as his pants fall, he isn't sure where this is going, until she backs off and removes her own pants. So, they're going to fuck, right here, right now, are they? His already hardening cock quickly turns to steel at the thought. As soon as Kate steps out of her pants, he moves in, pressing her against the opposite partition and slipping his fingers into her wetness. There's no time to be subtle, this is going to be fuck or get fucked, and if they're going to go at it, he wants her rocked back on her heels so he's in control.

As he presses her against the partition, his fingers probing and touching, she raises her right leg and wraps it around his ass, bringing her soaking pussy up for him to do with as he pleases. He might think he's taking charge, but she's still leading him around by his cock, and he doesn't even know it. She drops her hands to his ass to brings his hips to hers, moving her hips as he leans in, showing him how she wants him to rub against her moist center with his cock.

As she thrusts and squirms, sliding his cock through her wetness, gasping and whimpering, he realizes that he only thought he's taking control. It's now clear that Kate's driving this train, and his only options are to go along for the ride, or jump, and he's damn sure isn't going to jump. He begins to thrust against her, sliding his cock through her wetness, meeting her thrust for thrust as she clings to him, her mouth open, her eyes closed, the situation quickly spiraling out of control, and as much as he hates to admit it, he's loving every minute of it.

They writhe against each other, swallowing their moans of pleasure, moving more quickly, the passion and desire exploding until their breathing becomes labored and she can stand it no more. She wants him, she needs him, and she'll have him now before she loses her mind.

"Fuck me, Mac," she begs. "Fuck me now."

How is it possible that I can want this woman so badly, after I just had her the night before? Her begging, and it is begging, for him makes him want her so badly nothing else matters. He adjusts her position against the partition slightly, and with a groan he can't contain, drives his cock into her drenching pussy in a single vicious thrust.

She moans as his hardness slides into her womanhood. Fuck, and fuck again! She's so hot, so wound up in her desire, her fantasy finally coming true, that she feels like she's out of control.

"Oh... fuck," she moans into his ear as his cock slides into her again and again. "You like this? Do you?"

His only reply was a series of harder thrusts as he grunts in effort.

Kate moans softly again as she can feel her passion beginning to run away with her. "I was going to fuck you up if I'd won. I was going to fuck you so long and hard you wouldn't be able to stand the next day. I'd have made you come so hard, so fucking hard... I was going to make you scream..."

Mac groans again as her words have their effect on him. She's like a witch, casting a spell over him, making him do things he's never considered doing before. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath.

"... you would have filled me with your come and I'd have kept on fucking you," she continues as if he hadn't spoken. "You'd beg me to stop, but I wouldn't have. I'd keep fucking you until you were—fuck! That feels good, right there—until your cock was limp and both of us were covered in sweat and come."

A shudder passes through Mac, her words inflaming his lust, and he works to hold off his orgasm until she has hers.

She's ravenous for him, his groans of lust and pleasure exciting her beyond all reason as he begins drive her up the wall, in every sense of the word. His muscles tighten as he fucks her, his hands gripping her ass tightly as he thrusts into her with long, powerful strokes.

"I want you to come like that now, Mac. Come hard. Come hard and fill me with your come," she snarls into his ear.

Her erotic muttering is having a devastating effect as he takes her against the wall. He's working himself up to an impressive climax, their breaths coming in sharp huffs, when the range master's voice interrupts their joining, and his heart nearly stops at the sound of his voice.

"Time's almost up, McMillan," the range master calls. "I'll be opening the range in fifteen minutes. If you want to keep shooting after that, you'll have to come pay the regular range fees. McMillan?"

She smiles as Mac freezes, watching him grit his teeth, struggling to get control of himself. She reaches over to lick his ear, pulling her other leg up to wrap her legs totally around his waist and grinding her pussy down on his cock, circling her hips, his grip tightening so she won't fall. She can see, can feel, his struggle for control, and she smiles evilly at him as she fucks him, her lips nuzzling at his neck while he stands stock still, swallowing convulsively.

The range master's voice is incredibly, dangerously, close. "Thank you..." Fuck! What's his name? He can't think with her thrusting herself on his cock. "... sir. We're almost done." He sounds nearly normal, to his own ears anyway, but with her incessant thrusting and kissing, he might have sounded like Porky Pig for all he knew. "We're just..." Just what? Fucking? Screwing our brains out on your range?

"... lubricating our weapons," she whispers in his ear as she fucks him.

"... lubricating our weapons," he repeats in what he thinks is an admirably normal voice.

"Well, finish up what you are doing then come out and pay again if you aren't finished," the range master grunts before closing the door.

Before the snap of the door has faded, Mac is pounding into her, wild and uncontrolled. Coming so close to getting caught with his cock in Kate makes him mad with lust. The range master would have probably shot them with Kate's gun had he known what they were doing, and that near miss acts like a match to gunpowder.

The moment the door clicks closed, he begins to take her with a desperation that excites her in ways she can't explain. "Yes! Just like that!" she murmurs in his ear before she bites the lobe to drive him over the edge. He buries his mouth in her neck and snarls as he comes, taking her with him, slowly pumping into her over and over, his essence pouring into her and making her feel incredibly wet. She takes his seed and gives her body completely to him, wishing she could give voice to the depth of her ecstasy as the power of the orgasm sweeps her along. She clasps him tightly to her breasts as she squeezes his cock in her channel and squeezing his waist with her legs, kissing him hard while taking and giving breath.

With a sound that's little more than a whimper, she grips him tight, squeezing him, pulling him into her with arms and legs while clamping down with vice like force on his cock as he continues to thrust, her lips locking onto his as if her life depends on it. Finally, with a shudder and a groan, he lunges into her one last time, a single defiant thrust before stopping, trembling with the strain of holding her as he splashes into her.

They lean against each other, panting from their exertions and their fading lust. After a moment she begins to untangle herself from him, lowering her legs as he crouches and pulls his cock from her, kissing her as he does.

"You okay?" he asked, his chest still noticeably rising and falling.

"More than okay," she answers, her voice low and slow, a happy, fulfilled smile on her face. "Much more than okay."

He checks the time. Eight minutes until the range opens. They quickly make themselves presentable before she holsters her weapon and drops it into her shooting bag. She'll clean it later. A quick check to make sure everything is in order and, just minutes before noon, they stroll out of the shooting gallery, making a quick stop in the range's restroom to clean themselves up as much as possible.

He's waiting on her, her shooting bag in hand, when she steps from the bathroom, the first pops of a gun being fired echoing in the gallery, and she begins to giggle for reasons that are not entirely clear to her.

Chucking the bag into the trunk of the big Mercedes, Mac turns to her. "Where to? I'm buying, but you get to pick."

"For some reason, I worked up more of an appetite shooting than usual," she says before giggling again. The giggle surprises her. She hasn't been a giggler in twenty years but being around Mac is making her almost giddy. "I'm in the mood for a big fat greasy hamburger. Will you eat that? I saw what you ate this morning. Eggs and fruit. Healthy." She pauses, smiling lopsided at the way he makes her feel. "Would a greasy burger and fries be too much of a shock to your system?"

He grins at Kate's teasing. "I could go for that. I'll just have to work it off later tonight."

She drags a finger under his chin as she walks past him way to her side of the car. "I might be able to help you with that."

She directs them to a place he's never heard of called Cheeseburger Sam's, located in a corner unit of a small strip mall. The restaurant is nothing fancy but is neat and tidy, and obviously well-liked judging by the number of people in the place. They order their burgers, Mac following Kate's recommendation for the bacon-cheeseburger, but where she orders fries, he orders the tater-tots, unable to remember the last time he had those. They have to wait a moment for a table to open, but they manage to snag a booth moments before their food arrives. The waitress arrives with their food just as they're settling in, clearing the table of the previous meal before leaving.

He takes a bite of the burger, noticing that she's watching for his reaction. Like the atmosphere, the burger is nothing fancy, but nothing fancy understates the goodness of a well-prepared beef patty on a bun. As he chews, he offers her a silent toast with his burger and a smile, indicating his approval of her choice. The tots were just as good, deep-fat fried until crispy golden brown. While the meal is a heart-attack on a plate, he can't remember a better burger, or more pleasant company.

They'd arrived at the back-end of the lunch rush so they didn't feel the need to eat and run to clear the table for another customer. They lingered over their lunch, talking about everything and nothing. He finds he really likes Kate, not only for her obvious delights between the sheets, but also her rapier wit and absolute fearlessness and straight-talking attitude. There's no question about where she stands on any issue and what she wants, as exampled by her statement she's going shopping after lunch. She made it clear he's welcome to tag along if he wishes, and that she'll enjoy his company, but if he didn't want to shop, he can take her home and she'll go without him. It's an attitude and forthrightness he finds refreshing. It's much easier to know what a woman wants when she simply tells you.

Not having anything else to do, and wanting to enjoy her company as much as possible, he agrees to shopping. Shopping is something he can take or leave, normally leave, but to go with her, that makes the prospect much more appealing.

After lunch they drive to the Fashion District in downtown Los Angeles, someplace where she obviously feels at home. She prowls in and out of shops, skipping others without a second glance, as he trails along behind. She works her way around the district until, after three hours of twists and turns, he's hopelessly turned around, unsure of where the car is, unsure of where he is. He's heard of the Fashion District, but he had no idea the size and the scope of the area. He sees everything from shops with ten-thousand-dollar hand tailored suits, to erotic wear, and everything in between.

She's obviously browsing, popping into a shop, spending a few minutes looking over the selection, then leaving and moving on to the next store. At least, since she's not buying, he isn't stuck carrying packages, which to his mind, is a good thing. He watches as she digs much deeper into the inventory of the current shop than she had any of the previous. She handles the dresses, searching through them for something, though he isn't sure what. She pulls a couple of them off the rack, holds them up to the light then puts them back. She doesn't seem to be concerned about color, but both the dresses have been knee length or a tad shorter, and are cut to fit close to the body, like something woman might wear to work and then to a quiet cocktail party if she didn't have time to change. She pulls a third from the rack, one that has short jacket as part of the ensemble. It's a deep, rich, purple with the big gold buttons down its front popping out against the velvety-looking material. She examines it minutely and then puts it over her arm.

Okay, one choice made. He watches her move to a second rack and search as methodically through it, picking a bright orange and yellow splash of color with a form-fitting top and flirty skirt. That goes over her arm as well. A third dress, royal blue with a boat-neck collar comes off the rack and, after a careful scrutiny, is added to the growing pile across her arm. With a smile and a wink, she flounces into the changing area. Moments later she emerged wearing the brightly colored outfit.

"What do you think?" she asks.

"Well..." he says slowly. He really doesn't care for the colors and because she seems to be all class the bright colors don't really fit her. "It's okay I suppose," he waffles, "but it really doesn't say Kate to me."

She glares at him playfully, as if he's insulted her. "What do you mean? I'm fun! This is a fun outfit!"

He swallows hard. Now he remembers why he doesn't go shopping with women while wondering how he's going to get out of this. "It's fine, but, I don't know, the way you carry yourself, you scream class and that outfit doesn't."

She breaks into a big smile. "Oh, that's a nice save. Okay, fine." With that she turns and re-enters the changing booth.

A few moments later she emerges wearing the first outfit she selected, the purple. She cocks her hips and twists her knee into a cheesecake pose, running her hands down her body. "Better?" she purrs.

"Much," he agrees. He senses a presence behind him and he turns to discover a clerk, Sydney according to her name tag, Bull's first name, standing there.

Sydney nods. "I like it better too. The color looks good on you," she adds in a louder voice for Kate to hear.

Kate smiles and returns to the changing room, emerging in the third and final dress, the navy. She once again strikes a pose. "Well?"

He's flummoxed by the dress and has difficulty speaking for a moment. "That's definitely you," he finally says, trying not to give too much away, like the fact that the dress speaks to him at some deep level, that she looks positively gorgeous in it, or that the dress makes him want to make mad passionate love to her for hours on end.

"That's definitely you," Sydney volunteers enthusiastically, causing him to look at her and move his hands palms up between Sydney and Kate in a 'See, I told you' motion.

She smiles, the largest smile yet, perhaps picking up on the vibes from Mac and Sydney, before returning to the dressing room and exiting in her shorts and blouse. She hands the purple and the yellow and orange dresses to Sydney but holds the navy for a moment, looking at it before handing it over as well with a sigh.

"You're not buying it?" Mac asks, his surprise clear in his voice.

"No, not now," Kate responds a bit wistfully. "But it is a nice dress."

"So why aren't you buying it?" he asks again, stepping up and looking at the price tag. "It's a $300 dress marked down to, is this right? $136?"

Sydney nods. "That's right. We collect all the cast-off stuff from the design houses and sell it at discount. It's like that dress was made for you, ma'am."

Kate laughs lightly. "It was. I wore that in a show not three months ago."

"Kate, you have to get it," Mac protests.

"Mac, I have a closet full of dresses just like that at home that I hardly ever wear. I don't need another."

"But—" he starts to protest. This is unique experience, a woman that didn't want another article of clothing, especially when it made her so damn stunning.

"Really, Mac," Kate interrupts, "It's fine. My feet are getting tired so let's go."

"Hell, if you don't want to buy it, I do," he says turning to Sydney to tell her to box it up.

"Mac," Kate says firmly. "I don't need the dress. I don't want the dress. So, let's just go, okay?"

"But—" Mac tries again.

"Mac," Kate says, her voice becoming low and threatening. "Just leave the dress. I'm leaving. Are you coming or not?"

He watches her turn on her heel and stride out of the store without a backwards glance. He looks at Sydney, who gives him a small shrug and a slight smile. "Kate! Wait a second!" he calls as he follows her out of the shop, finally catching up with her on the walk outside. "Kate! What's wrong?"

"Nothing. My feet are just tired. I'm sorry I snapped at you. Let's find the car and let me get off my feet. Everything's fine," she says patting him on the chest.

He hears the words, but the tone and the body language don't agree with the message. He doesn't know what it is, but something is definitely wrong, and it isn't tired feet.