On My Flight

"I...well, er - I'm...I'm fine," she stuttered. Much to my disappointment, Her face morphed into a huge smile.

"My friend and I would like a room," he said.

I turned and looked at him. "They're all full," I said flatly. "How about that?" I said.

"Oh, that's too bad," Kane said, but at the same time Elise said: "Oh, no we have room!"

I swung my head around to stare at Elise. "What?" I said in disbelief.

She nodded, looking at Kane. "We have rooms...Mr. Kane," is it?" She said shyly.

"That's right!" He said. "You know who I am?"

Elise nodded. "I used to listen to your music all the time, and I watched you on TV! You were on The Proud and the Shameless soap opera in the daytime, right? You played a doctor!" She said.

That was right; I had forgotten that fact about him. In addition to being a musician, he was an actor too.

Kane nodded. "That's right, I sure did!" He beamed. He leaned in towards Elise and she leaned in towards him. "I kissed a lot of my patients back to life," He said confidentally.

"Dear God," I said, rolling my eyes.

Elise smiled as if she were in love.

"So, how about that room, sweetie?" He said to her.

Elise nodded and quickly went to the computer. She clicked and clacked on the keys and finally gave us a triumphant grin. "Our honeymoon suite is available. I think you'll enjoy it," she said.

"Perfect!" Kane said, grinning at me.

He slipped her his credit card before I could find mine in my messy purse. She then gave him two key cards for the room. I put my hand out for him to give me one but he smirked and pocketed them both.

I narrowed my eyes at him. He said goodbye to Elise, told her we'd handle our own bags, and he moved his hand down to the small of my back as we walked.

We found the elevators and quickly got on. He stood right next to me, his arm brushing against mine in the rather spacious elevator. We were both silent as we rode up to the 12th floor. I was still angry he hadn't given me a room key. When we got out of the elevator he led the way and went right to the honeymoon suite.

"You knew right where it was?" I asked him, surprised.

"I've been here a few times before," he said.

"I'm sure you have," I said underneath my breath, imagining him and the wild parties he'd probably been to in hotel rooms most of his adult life.

We walked into the honeymoon suite and into a very large, funky, modern sitting room, with a cool looking purple couch and two teal, wingback chairs. They were weird together and their colors clashed but somehow they worked. The coffee table and tall lamp there looked like they were straight out of the 1950's.

"Ok, well, thanks for getting me a room. I should have done it earlier but this was kind of a last minute decision to come to LA. You can go now," I said, parking my suitcase right next to the purple couch. "I'll have the room transferred to my own credit card later...if that's even a thing," I frowned, wondering.

To my utter disbelief, instead of leaving, Kane sat down on the couch and patted the empty seat next to him. "Oh, don't worry about all of that. Sit down. Let's chat a bit. I want to get to know you better," he said.

"You want to get to know me? You already know enough about me," I said.

But he shook his head. "I don't know any of the important stuff," he said.

I crossed my arms across my chest. "Like what?"

He hummed. "Like...like your name."

"You don't know my name?" I asked, my mouth agog.

He shook his head. "You never told me."

"Well, I guess you never asked," I snapped. "It's Holly," I said.

He nodded. "Nice. Holly. Any kids?"

"Two...teenagers," I said slowly. Because where was he going with all of this?

He nodded. "Now, I still don't know what your favorite wine is. Or your favorite brand of handbag. Or whether you like your nipples tweaked or sucked," he said.

My mouth dropped open.

He shrugged. "Maybe you like little flicks of the tongue instead?" He asked.

My eyes narrowed for the thousandth time at him. "Don't make me punch you," I said, and I half meant it. "Are you ever going to leave my room?" I asked him, looking around.

He grinned. "This is my room, actually, since I paid for it," he said. "But you're welcome to stay here...with me," he said.

"Why would you stay here when you live in Los Angeles?" I asked him.

He grinned again. "Because I've got a sure thing here. You think I'm going to just leave?" He asked me.

"A sure...thing...are you insane?! The only thing you have here is a woman who wants you out of her hotel room-"

"Suite-"

"Hotel suite," I said with a smart-alecky inflection. "Other than that, what do you have here?" I said.

We were interrupted by my cell phone loudly ringing.

"Excuse me," I huffed.

I turned away from him and I pulled my phone out of my back jeans pocket. It was my sister. I answered it on speaker.

"Hey, Noelle," I said.

Kane perked up and quickly stood up right beside me. "Your name is Holly and your sister's name is Noelle? What's with that?" He whispered in my ear.

"Our parents just really loved Christmas, okay?" I mumbled.

He snickered.

"Holly?" Noelle said.

"I'm here."

"Hey! So...so I have good news and I have bad news," Noelle said.

"You do?" I asked.

"Yeah. The good news is I'm coming to Los Angeles...eventually. The bad news is the plane is messed up. Royally. The mechanics have been working on it for...it seems like forever. I don't know if the wings fell off or what but they're trying to get it flight ready. At least that's the rumor," she said.

"What?! That's awful!" I said.

"No it's not," Kane said out loud. "It works well for me," he said.

I gasped.

My sister also gasped.

"Who is that?" She asked me.

"Kane Holladay," Kane said, leaning towards the phone. "You must be Holly's sister?" He said.

"Wait. Holly! Kane...Holladay? Kane Holladay from like junior high school dancing in your bedroom to his music Kane Holladay?"

"That's me," he said.

She squeaked. "Holly! You've seen your first celebrity and you didn't even tell me?! He's got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame!" She gasped.

"I'm trying to get a star in your sister's bed," he said.

I closed my eyes at that bold proclamation.

"Oh my god! He's seriously there? Right with you?!"

"Unfortunately," I said.

"Hey, so, sister on the phone? What can I say to your sister here so that she'll sleep with me?" Kane asked. He put his arm lightly around my waist in the back.

My sister gasped, then she giggled, but then she paused. "Kane? Are you serious?"

"Absolutely," he said, winking at me.

"Okay, well...are you freaky at all?"

Kane laughed. "Do pigs fly?"

"Pigs don't fly," I spat.

But my sister just laughed. "Tell her you'll go around the world with her," she said. "That should do it," she laughed.

Kane laughed too. "Of course. Who doesn't do that?" He asked.

"Her ex-husband," my sister supplied.

"Oh. My. God," I said. "I'm hanging up now," I said. "Thanks Noelle for thoroughly embarrassing me. Meanwhile, there's an idiot here in my hotel room that's blocking the cell phone from getting good reception," I said, making fake statickey noises with my hand hovering over my mouth.

"Wait. He's in your freaking hotel room?!?!" My sister squealed.

I panicked and I frantically ended the call.

"Well," Kane said. "She sounds lovely," he said. "I can't wait to meet her tomorrow when we're all at breakfast together, you know, after you and I have banged a couple hundred times," he said, patting my back.

I gave him the side eye.

"Right now I'm hoping her flight gets delayed forever," I grumbled. "Or that the wings do fall off of the plane."

Kane laughed.

Then there was a knock at the door.

I looked at Kane who shrugged and I answered it.

"Champagne! Sent up by Elise, the front desk manager," said a hotel worker.

There was a cart there with an ice-filled bucket on it with the top of a champagne bottle sticking out.

I spun around and looked at Kane. He was right behind me. He swept in and grabbed the champagne. "Ooh. Nice! Thank Elise for me!" He said. "And it's nice and cold, too!" He said.

I slammed the door in the hotel worker's face before either of us could give him a tip.

"Champagne?! Seriously?" I said.

Kane went and got the glasses that hotel rooms always have. The ones next to the ice bucket and the coffee maker, if there is one.

"Yeah. You wouldn't believe the free stuff you get just by being famous. And the kicker is I can afford all this shit. But people want to give me free stuff all the time."

I sighed.

"Let's toast. To us," he said, quickly popping the cork. Luckily the contents didn't shoot out or spill on the bright red carpet.

I sank down on the couch. "There is no us," I said.

But he poured the champagne anyway. He sat down next to me and handed me a little in a glass. Much to both of our surprise, I took my glass and I shot it back. It almost came back out my nose and I slightly choked, followed by a violent coughing fit.

"Wow," he said. "I've never seen anybody do that with champagne before. Yeah, here's another one. Let's get you a little tipsy. Elise is a genius," he said, pouring me some more.

I took the second glass and I sipped it. I glared at him. I couldn't believe I was going to say what I was going to say. But...I was tired and I just wanted to be left alone.

"Look, you're like a barnacle on my ass," I said. "And I can't believe I'm going to say this, but if I sleep with you, will you get the hell out of here?" I said.

Kane laughed. "Wow. Of course. I mean I'd love to meet your sister, but...sure," he said with an errant shrug.

I credit Elise's champagne for what I did next. I sat my drink down on the 1950's style coffee table and I grabbed either side of the collar of his black shirt. His eyes widened when I pulled him in close for a kiss.

I broke the kiss and his eyes were still wide. He licked his lips, then swooped in quickly for another one.

I whimpered at the softness of his lips, at the newness of his touch.

Because who was I fooling? My ex-husband was just that - he was now my ex. We'd been distant for much longer than that. I hadn't had someone to kiss like this for a long, long time.

"Are you married?" I abruptly asked him.

"Uh...what?" He asked. He looked a little kiss drunk.

"Married. Because I don't do married people," I said. "At least I shouldn't do married people," I mumbled to myself.

"Check me out on Wikipedia," he snarked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Seriously? Right now?" I said sourly.

He sighed. "Divorced. Four times over," he said.

"Shit!" I said.

"Yeah, well, I'm terrible with love. Good thing this is just sex," he mumbled.

I thought for a second. "I don't think I do non-love sex," I said.

He laughed. "What do you think this is?" He said. "I like you, but love?" He said. He shook his head.

I licked my lips. "Okay. Whatever," I said. "Let's just do this," I said.

He grabbed my hand and quickly led me to the bedroom, another room a few feet away from the sitting room. I watched him closely as I sat down on the one big king sized bed with the fuchsia comforter.

He put his sunglasses down on the dresser. He started taking off his watch and his rings as he kicked off his shoes. Next he took out and laid down his wallet. He took out a little baggie with pills in it.

"What's that? Drugs?" I gawked from the bed.

He laughed out loud. "I don't do drugs. At least I don't anymore; I'm done with that shit. No, honey, this is my Viagra."

"Oh," I said.

"I can still get hard on my own, but this ensures that I get rock hard, and fast," he grinned, patting his crotch. He popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it down without water.

He next took off a gold bracelet.

"You're taking a lot of stuff off," I said. "Should I be concerned? Do I need to take out my earrings for this?" I chuckled.

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Look, my husband was always one and done. He was done so fast that most times I didn't even have time to get completely naked, let alone have my own orgasm," I said.

He paused. "Well, that's sad," he said. "He didn't, you know, plan special romantic nights for you sometimes, like for your birthday?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No. He was famous for never doing anything like that for me or for getting me any gifts."

"Not even for Christmas?" He asked.

"For anything. Ever," I responded.

"Oh. Well, that's...that's..." he said, frowning.

"Yeah, I know. See now why he's my ex?" I grumbled. "Among other reasons," I added.

He paused. "I've never had problems in the bedroom," he said.

"Well! Lucky you!" I mumbled.

He rolled his eyes again. "What I meant was, I never had problems in the area of sex. Or at least nobody ever complained...once I knew what I was doing, I mean. I had problems with other things. Being on the road all the time, not calling...and cheating," he added. "The sex was always good but it also got me in trouble plenty of times, though. It's not the be all and end all," he said.

"I wouldn't know," I said.

He grinned and looked at me for a second. "You know, when I said I like you, I wasn't lying. I really do like you," he said.

I gave him a slight smile.

"Oh, but you don't like me back?" He said incredulously.

I flushed. "Well, honestly, what's not to like? You're famous, talented, and still very good looking. You're an asshole, but I guess three out of four isn't all that bad," I said.

"Yeah, well I apologize for the asshole part. And I'm only good looking because the Botox and cheek fillers flow like water here in Los Angeles," he chuckled. "So do little nips and tucks," he said. "The rest? It's just part of my fading 'je ne sais quoi'," he said jauntily.

I laughed.

He took off his shirt and put it over the back of a chair. His bare chest looked good. Really good. "I'll let you decide when my pants come off," he said with a smirk.

"Great," I said with an eye roll.

He came over to the bed and he crawled on. He made his way over to me. He eyed me all over. "You at least gonna take off your shoes?" He asked.

"Oh," I flushed.

"I mean sex with stilettos on is one thing. Sex with socks and running shoes on? That's something else entirely," he said.

"I don't own a pair of stilettos," I said as I kicked my shoes off.

"Why does that not surprise me?" he said.

I shucked my socks and I started to take off my T-shirt. "Yeah, take off your shirt. I'll do the rest," he said. "Come here," he said. He motioned to the middle of the bed where he was.

I got my shirt off and followed him to the middle of the bed.

"A sports bra?" He said, shaking his head.

I just looked at him. "Yeah. I didn't plan on this being a sexy, underwire bra day," I said. "This was supposed to only be a comfortable, travel-on-an-airplane day," I added.

"You should plan on every day being a potentially sexy, underwire bra day," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Look," I said. "That would be dressing for somebody else. I dress for myself. I wear comfortable bras and panties," I said. "Besides. This is like a 1 in a billion random event. Like I just always run around having sex with random people," I scoffed.

Kane was silent.

And then I watched as he flushed deeply.

"You always have sex with random people?!" I asked.

He shrugged a shoulder, his cheeks still pink. "I have. Sure."

"Wait a minute. How many people have you had sex with?!" I asked him.

He blew out a breath. "I...I don't know," he said.

I paused. "You don't know? What do you mean, 'you don't know'?!" I said, gobsmacked. "Who loses count of a number that important?!"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Hey, I've had a lot of one night stands in my life. Lots of girls from lots of concerts over the years," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "It's amazing your dick hasn't shriveled up and fallen off," I said. "You're probably carrying every sexually transmitted disease known to man!" I said.

"I am not!" He huffed. "They have tests for that kind of thing. Plus I wear condoms. Religiously. I am the picture of excellent sexual health," he said, grinning.

"No. You're more like a sexual skull and crossbones," I said. I started to get off the bed. "Where the hell did I toss my shirt?" I asked, looking around.

He sighed. "Come on. I won't give you any diseases," he said.

"Oh, really?" I said, unconvinced.

"No. I don't even have herpes. And everybody has herpes," he grumbled.

"Not everybody has herpes!" I growled. "I don't have herpes!"

"Well, fine! Great!" He said, throwing his hands up into the air. "Believe what you want. But my dick is as clean as a whistle," he said, unbuttoning his pants and getting up on his knees. "Just look at it!" He said.

I shaded my eyes. "What are you doing?" I screeched. "I don't want to see it!" I said.

He paused. "How can you have sex without seeing it?" He asked.

"I've had sex plenty of times without seeing it!" I said.

"Jesus criminey. Were your kids conceived by artificial insemination?" he asked.

"What? No, they were not," I said, confused.

"Huh. Sounds like you weren't paying enough attention. Would you even know?" He said.

I rolled my eyes, and then his pants fell down to his knees.

Both our eyes fell to his bare, hard dick because he wasn't even wearing any underwear.

"What the?!" I said.

"Oh, yeah. You wear boring underwear because you don't assume you'll be having sex. I wear no underwear because I assume I will be," he said.

We both watched as he flexed his nether muscles and his cock bounced up and down.

"Wow. What you did just there? That's gross. And you're like a...what's the male equivalent of a slut?" I mumbled.

"A stud," he said triumphantly.

"Exactly," I grumbled, "because that's totally fair," I said.

He waved his hand through the air. "Hey, I don't subscribe to that. I don't think women are sluts for wanting sex. I assume orgasms feel similar to women as they do to men. I wouldn't want to be told I shouldn't enjoy something that's clearly enjoyable," he said.

"Anyway," I said, rolling my eyes.

He grinned and stroked himself a few times. "Come on. You promised I could have you," he said.

"I did not," I said.

"Oh, you so did," he nodded. "And you can't take it back," he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"That's right. I already took my Viagra. No backsies," he said.

I flopped down, my head on a pillow. "Fine. Just get it over with," I said.

"What? You just want me to wake you up when I'm done?!" He asked, somewhat stunned.

"Whatever," I said.

He kicked his pants the rest of the way off and did away with his black socks. Now totally naked, he laid his head down on the other pillow and looked at me.

"I don't use women just to get off," he said softly. "I kind of need you to participate in this," he said.

I looked at him. He sent me a small smile.

"Can I...kiss you again?" He asked me softly. He stroked my cheek, and it felt good.

I waited a second, then nodded, because his first kisses had been so good. He slowly leaned in. His lips touched mine soft as a whisper.

I don't know what it was about that kiss, but from that moment on, I wanted him.

I wanted him.

I kissed him back, and he started scooting his body closer to mine. I wrapped my arms around him. Our tongues touched. He was warm and smelled wonderful. What was it that was so sexy about men and their cologne?

He got on top of me and his body pressed me down into the bed. I'd forgotten how good a man felt when he was on top of me.

He wormed his way in between my thighs and I willingly spread my legs for him.

"Mmm," he said. "I want to take you just like this," he said, grinding his hard cock into my jeans-covered crotch.

"What? No hanging from the chandelier? No spinning me around and around on your dick?" I asked him with a smirk.