Work Text
4269 HARRISBURG - DELAYED.
The bright yellow word stares down at Melinda almost smugly. She glares at the board before moving away, pushing through people also gathered around. Even this early in the morning, the airport is buzzing with activity from families frantically trying to find their gate and others making groans of complaint as they saw their flight was delayed. Used to being up with the sun, Melinda booked an eight a.m. flight but now choosing the time seemed pointless. At least there was WiFi and food to pass the three hours she had to wait.
Gripping her carry on, Melinda makes her way over to the coffee shop and buys a scone before looking for a place to sit. Unfortunately, the comfortable couches and chairs are all taken. All that’s left are the rows of hard chairs too close to one another for Melinda’s taste. She picks the farthest seat from anyone already in the area and makes quick work of getting her laptop out to appear busy so no one would bother her. Only, when she goes to turn her laptop on, the screen remains dark.
“Are you kidding me?” Melinda grumbles.
The battery is dead. She turns, rooting around in her carry on but remembers she packed the charger in her larger suitcase. Frustrated, Melinda puts her laptop away and turns to her phone which is thankfully fully charged.
Since she is technically off work, Melinda ignores any work-related emails or texts she has and goes straight to other apps. A few months ago when babysitting Hope, the child installed a gaming app on Melinda’s phone that kept her preoccupied through a last minute meeting. Melinda meant to delete the app but soon found herself addicted to popping the bubbles and gaining levels. She plays it and a few other games for a little while before turning her attention to another app.
The last thing anyone would expect Melinda to do is to go on Tinder. In her defense, it’s been a lonely few months, but Melinda downloaded the app purely out of curiosity and from Daisy’s insistence. For the few weeks she’s had the app, Melinda has swiped right a few times but changed her mind upon looking the people up. Now she goes through it more for fun than trying to find someone. It’s amusing, and soon Melinda finds herself lost in swiping.
One profile though, she stops short on.
It’s the profile picture that catches Melinda’s attention, more specifically the muscles. With the way the man is posing, the muscled planes of his abdomen are accentuated. Melinda’s eyes hone right in on the prominent v-line leading down to the waistband of gray sweatpants. They’re pulled slightly back by a thumb so she can’t see much else and for a brief moment, Melinda wants to. She shakes her head and clears those thoughts before turning her attention to his face.
He’s more than just a nice body to look at that’s for sure. Melinda hasn’t always been a fan of the rugged look but the scruff this man has makes her wonder what it would feel like on the inside of her thighs. At that point, Melinda crosses her legs and looks at his profile description.
Hunter, 34
Less than a mile away. Active five minutes ago.
What do you call a ghost’s erection? A boooooner
Melinda snorts, surprising herself. Even with his lame joke, Hunter is definitely a possibility, but Melinda isn’t looking for anyone right now. At least, that’s what she tells herself. With one last look at his v-line, she swipes left.
Then there’s a voice behind her.
“Ouch. Hard no for that one?”
Frowning, Melinda turns around, ready to confront whomever but her mouth dries up at the sight of the man there. It’s Hunter with a phone in his hand and a smirk on his face.
He looks the same as his profile pic, albeit his torso is covered by a t-shirt and jacket. It’s a shame, truthfully. Melinda tears her gaze from his body to his face. He raises an eyebrow, apparently noticing her ogling.
She clears her throat and sits up a little straighter. “Yeah.”
“I’m wounded.” Melinda certainly
wasn’t
expecting the accent, or the affect it has on her. “Anyway,” he continues. “I’m Lance. Hunter’s my last name and what people call me when they’re not in my bed.”
Melinda rolls her eyes. “Are you always this forward?”
Hunter winks. “Depends where it gets me.” He then gestures to the seat beside her. “May I join you?”
Melinda debates saying no and forgetting this conversation ever took place, but instead she nods and makes sure her carry on is out of the way as he takes his seat.
He glances at her as he sets his bag down. “So why are you here so early looking like you want to murder anyone who talks to you?”
“My flight was delayed.”
Hunter sighs. “Yeah, mine too. Bloody three hours delayed. Where are you flying?”
“We’re on the same flight.”
Hunter doesn’t question how she knows this information. “Then if I may ask, why are you going to Pennsylvania of all places?”
“My ex-husband is getting married.”
Hunter winces sympathetically. “And you were invited?”
It’s been too long for Melinda to harbor any ill will or jealousy toward Andrew. She’s happy for him, mostly for moving on. “We stayed friends believe it or not.”
“No, I believe it,” Hunter says. He leans back in his seat, stretching an arm over the back and just touching Melinda’s chair. He’s smooth, Melinda will give him that. “My ex-wife and I still talk to each other quite often.”
Holding his gaze, she sits so that her shoulder is brushing his fingertips. “How about you?” Melinda asks. “Why are you going to Pennsylvania?”
“One of my best mates has an engineering competition and called me when one of his teammates bailed.”
“You’re an engineer?”
Hunter scoffs at the idea. “No. Each team needs three people to participate. I’ll just stand there and look pretty while they do all the hard work.”
Melinda allows her eyes to linger over him in a way that’s so obvious he would notice. “That won’t be difficult.”
He goes to reply but is cut off by the announcement, “
Flight 4269 to Harrisburg now boarding
.”
“Already?” Melinda asks. She stands, quickly gathering her carry on. Around them, many people are standing as well to board their flight.
“It’s been two and a half hours since the original time,” Hunter tells her before adding, “I was just late.”
“Good thing it was delayed then.”
“Yeah,” Hunter agrees. Melinda pretends she doesn’t feel his gaze on her ass as she walks in front of him. “A very good thing.”
In no time it seems, Melinda is on the plane and the only one in the row she’s assigned to. She lost Hunter somewhere at the gate and isn’t too concerned of his whereabouts. He was on the flight; he would be walking on in seconds. Of course, she has no clue which seat he’s in so to Melinda, that was the end of their conversation.
Only, as she takes a crossword out to do, a shadow falls over it. It’s followed up by a now familiar voice, “We meet again, then.”
Melinda puts the crossword away and instead looks up at Hunter. “It appears we do.”
“I’ve never been happier to have a middle seat,” Hunter says once he’s sat down beside her. “This is
much
better than the time I was next to the nose picker. He wiped everything on-”
Melinda holds up a hand to stop him. “Please spare me the details.”
He laughs, slinging his backpack onto the empty aisle seat beside him before turning to her. “Well, now that we’re on board, I guess it’s time for small talk.”
“I don’t like a lot of talking.”
Before Hunter can reply, the pilot’s voice resounds around the plane. Then the plane then takes off. Next, the flight attendants go through their routine speech about emergency exits, turning off your phones, what to do if the plane crashed into the ocean, and so forth. It’s nothing new, so Melinda finds herself half listening as she sneaks glances at Hunter.
She hadn’t noticed his arms before since they were concealed with his jacket, but now that Hunter’s taken the garment off, his biceps are practically bulging against the sleeves, especially as he crosses his arms. Melinda’s gaze follows the line of Hunter’s arm down to his hand which is resting on his knee. Subconsciously, or even purposefully, he flexes his hand. Melinda swallows thickly at the sight of the veins that run up and down his arm.
After they reach 10,000 feet and are free to move about, Hunter turns to Melinda. “What talking do you like then?”
“Dirty, usually.”
That catches him off guard. Hunter blinks twice before recovering. “I’ll keep that in mind then. So, what do you do for a living?” he asks. “There wasn’t anything about it in your bio.”
“I work for the CIA.”
“Bloody hell,” he breathes. “No wonder you didn’t list it. What do you do there? If I can know.”
“Operations officer,” Melinda answers before throwing in, “And ex-air force pilot.”
At that last bit of information, Hunter lights up. “I was a Lieutenant in the S.A.S.”
Now Melinda is the one to be caught off guard. That certainly isn’t information she was expecting though she did suspect Hunter had some sort of training as he scoped out every exit and person. “Admirable.”
“Boring,” he corrects. “I left when Bob and I married. Probably the best decision I ever made then.”
“Getting married or leaving the military?”
“Leaving the military.” Leaning close to her, Hunter whispers, “Are there really assigned agents who watch people through their laptop cameras?”
Melinda only blinks, nonchalant. “That’s classified.”
“Well.” Now his voice is lowered suggestively. “I wouldn’t mind you being mine.”
She rolls her eyes and playfully pushes him back. “I’m not in the STEM section. I’m in the field most of the time.”
“The field?” Hunter asks. “I’m always a sucker for a woman who could kick my ass.”
Ignoring his flirting, Melinda asks, “Is that what your ex-wife was like?”
“Oh, yeah.” Hunter nods. “Bobbi could have me on my back before I could even blink. She does MMA, taekwondo, all that painful jazz.”
“Were you on your back often?”
“Not usually,” he says. “I don’t like just to lie there and let my partner do all the work.”
The sexual tension that’s been brewing for the past hour is slowly driving Melinda insane. It appears to have the same effect on Hunter if the way he’s subtly adjusting himself in his seat and tentatively trailing a hand up Melinda’s thigh is anything to go by.
It has been
quite
the while since Melinda has gotten laid. She knows Hunter has a nice body beneath his clothes and wonders if there’s a nice cock to match. Well, only one way to find out. She
has
wanted to have sex in a plane at least one time after all.
Melinda stands but leans toward Hunter, making sure her low cut shirt gives him more than an eyeful. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she murmurs. “You’re more than welcome to join me.”
With that, Melinda leaves the aisle but not before letting her palm brush across Hunter’s thighs.
The walk to the bathroom is brief, but by the time Melinda shuts the door to the miniscule cubicle behind her, her heart is racing. She’s really doing this. She’s really having sex with a complete stranger in an airplane bathroom on the way to her ex’s wedding. Melinda curses Daisy’s spontaneous attitude for rubbing off on her but doesn’t change her mind.
It’s only a minute or so later that the door creaks open and Hunter slides in. It’s a tight fit for both of them, but the missing personal space works in their favor. For a moment, Hunter and Melinda simply stare at each other before Hunter moves toward her. He backs Melinda into the counter behind her, hands on her waist. Melinda has just enough time to brace her hands against the counter before Hunter’s lips are on hers.
At first, the kiss is hesitant and careful, but Melinda isn’t here for that. She nips Hunter’s lower lip, enjoying his surprised inhale. Now more confident, his mouth opens against hers, and everything takes a headier turn. Hunter leans further into Melinda, bringing one thigh to press between hers. The sudden pressure against her makes Melinda’s hips hump against him. Now, she can feel Hunter’s hardness against her hip and pulls him in.
Hunter hits his head on the overhead light as he presses against her. “Fuck.”
“Yes,” Melinda agrees, tugging him closer to her. “But you need to be quiet.”
From there, the only sounds that fill the tiny cubicle are Melinda and Hunter exchanging heated kisses as they tug at each other’s clothing. It’s hard to maneuver in such a small space and Melinda is sure she has bruises, but soon her jeans are pulled down to her calves, and Hunter’s belt is unbuckled. Melinda feels a stab of lust go through her at the sight of the large bulge in Hunter’s boxers. Tomorrow she’ll ache for sure from having sex in an airplane bathroom but not only because of the close quarters.
“You have a condom?”
Hunter’s answer is digging his wallet out from his back pocket and pulling out a small foil packet. At this point, Melinda is more thankful than curious and eagerly spreads her legs as Hunter rolls the condom on. He steps forward, cock bobbing against his lower abdomen as he settles between her legs.
“Can I-?” Hunter’s fingers gently tug at the leg seam of Melinda’s panties. She nods and lifts her hips to help him as he pulls the garment down her legs. Then, her pussy is bare to the frigid air, but seconds later there are fingertips sliding over her lips before inquisitively dipping inside.
As one finger eases in, Melinda’s eyes close. She hasn’t had the time or trust to hook up with anyone for a good while, so fingers that aren’t her own are a welcome change. What’s even better is that Hunter knows what he’s doing. Unlike most men who blindingly jab around, Hunter’s finger skillfully massages her inner walls, crooking up to press against the rigid patch that sends Melinda’s hips jumping against his hand. The addition of his thumb against her clit is unexpected and pulls a whine from Melinda’s throat that Hunter quickly hushes with a kiss to her lips. It doesn’t take long for Hunter to slip a second finger inside of her, the glide aided by Melinda’s copious wetness. When he goes to add a third, she stops him with a hand on his wrist.
“It’s fine. Just get in me.” When Hunter doesn’t immediately move, Melinda taps her heels against his ass. “Hurry up.”
Her muscles flutter around air as Hunter removes his fingers from her. They gleam in the harsh lighting, glistening with Melinda’s juices. She swallows, eyes going to Hunter who only smirks and slides those fingers into his mouth. She watches as he licks them before taken them out. “Yes, ma’am.”
Before Melinda can fully comprehend the sight of Hunter licking her taste from his skin, the underside of his cock slides over her. She gasps, back arching slightly as the head of his cock nudges against her clit. Gauging her reaction, Hunter focuses sliding his cock there for a few more seconds before reaching down to guide himself to her entrance. Only, Melinda beats him there with her hand against him.
The first push sends Melinda’s head thumping against the wall she’s pressed against. Hunter feels bigger than she expected and fills her completely, causing a burn that’s teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure as he continues to push in. He goes slow but soon is buried in her to the hilt. Hunter pauses, allowing Melinda to adjust. He runs one palm up her naked thigh soothingly.
“Good?”
At first, Melinda can only manage a nod. No fingers or toy could ever replicate the feeling of a flesh and blood cock inside of her. Her mind is spinning from all the stimulation as she clenches down onto him. Hunter stifles a groan low in his throat. His arms and shoulders are tense as if he’s holding himself back. Now, the burn has eased and turned into an aching need.
Melinda nods again, but this time it’s more coherent. She leans forward, draping her arms around Hunter’s neck. “Move.”
That’s all it takes. In the next second, Hunter’s cock is driving into her, building up a rhythm that seems to go from zero to one hundred in the brief time it takes Melinda to gasp. She’s only able to hang on as he moves against her.
“Fuck,” Hunter grunts. “You feel bloody amazing.”
Knowing that the other passengers and flight attendants possibly could hear them sends a bolt of arousal through Melinda. Emboldened, she presses her lips against Hunter’s neck, murmuring, “So do you.”
Hunter’s breath catches in his throat. Then, he sneaks a hand between them, fingers instantly finding her clit. Now, Melinda is the one to get loud as Hunter strokes the hard nub. She opens her mouth to say something but cuts herself off with a breathy
oh!
when the head of Hunter’s cock pushes firmly against a spot inside of Melinda that makes her head swim.
“There, right there,” she pants. “Oh, god.”
With how Hunter focuses his thrusts in that area, he hits the same place over and over, sending Melinda very quickly on an upward spiral toward her orgasm. It’s almost overwhelming how fast it creeps up on her. Melinda writhes on the counter, moving her hips to meet Hunter’s thrusts and force his fingers harder against her clit.
“Come on, Mel,” Hunter murmurs. “Let me see you come.”
Muffling her whine against his shoulder, Melinda comes, whining, “
Lance
.”
Too blissed out from her orgasm, Melinda doesn’t even realize she used his first name. Hunter watches her, eyes wide and breathing slightly labored. Then, he begins to move faster. His head drops and his grip on the counter becomes tighter as he sinks his cock into Melinda again and again. “Dammit.”
Then he stills with one last push that is so deep it makes Melinda’s toes curl inside her shoes. Hunter muffles his groan against her shoulder, his teeth making indentations on the sleeve of her shirt. As he comes, Hunter continues to pump his hips in short thrusts that have Melinda clenching around him. He’s close enough to her that her clit grinds against his groin with every movement. Melinda’s second orgasm takes her by surprise. While she’s capable of multiple orgasms, it’s never happened in such a short time frame or even with the same person. It’s stronger than her first orgasm and sends Melinda reeling, grasping at Hunter’s arms for support as the tide nearly overwhelms her.
“Well,” Melinda begins once she’s regained control of her voice. “Welcome to the Mile High Club.”
Hunter chuckles as he carefully pulls out. “First time joining that club.”
The loss of him inside of her makes Melinda feel more empty than it should. She crosses her legs, still twitching from the aftershocks of her orgasm and leans against the wall. Melinda watches as Hunter ties the condom and places it in the trash can. She does look away though as he cleans himself off with a wet paper towel. “Really?”
“Do I seem like the type to have sex in airplane bathrooms?” He teases, glancing back at her as he tucks himself away. “There’s a first time for everything. What about you, aren’t you a pilot?”
“Government aircrafts don’t allow the time or space for sex,” Melinda answers. “The bathrooms there are a quarter of this.”
Hunter winces. “Yikes.”
Nodding, Melinda hops down off the counter. She reaches for her jeans but pauses halfway through pulling them up.
“Where-?” The rest of Melinda’s question dies off as Hunter takes her underwear from his pocket. The black spandex dangle from his pointer finger with a wet spot visible on the crotch that makes Melinda’s cheeks heat. Hunter only smiles, clearly fond of teasing her.
“Looking for these?”
Rolling her eyes, Melinda holds her hand out for the garment. “Yes.”
“You mean I can’t keep them?” Hunter asks even as he hands over her panties. “Not even for a memento?”
Melinda snorts. “A memento? Should I cut off a lock of your hair for mine then?”
He laughs, a skillfully subdued sound, but it still makes Melinda’s heart skip for reasons she doesn’t understand or is too afraid to confront. Lifting a leg to step into her underwear, Melinda loses her balance. Before she can tumble to the floor, there’s a hand on her arm and one on her waist, steadying her even as the plane dips. When she glances up, it’s straight into Hunter’s eyes which still dance with amusement. Melinda swallows and regains her footing.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, quickly yanking her underwear up.
“Anytime, dove.”
With her panties on, Melinda tugs her jeans up and focuses on her appearance in the small mirror. She looks like… well, like she just got thoroughly fucked in an airplane bathroom. Melinda tugs her shirts back down, tucking the hem in to make her seem more put together than what she’s currently feeling. She finger combs her hair, glancing to Hunter in the reflection as she does. He’s in a similar state as Melinda is, busy with buckling his belt and running his hands down his front to get out any wrinkles. When she stares too long, Hunter takes notice and meets her gaze in the mirror.
Melinda quickly averts hers and clears her throat. “I should go out first.” She had been the first one in there after all.
“Everyone knows what we just did,” Hunter says, shrugging. “Don’t see why there’s any more reason to hide it.”
He was right. No one really cared anyway. People just wanted to get from one destination to the next without any fuss. Through the tiny speaker in the bathroom, the captain’s voice comes on. “We’re about fifteen minutes from our destination.”
“You better get going then,” Hunter says, gesturing to the door. “We’re going to be descending soon.”
Melinda glances at the door then back to Hunter before holding her hand out. Without hesitation, he takes it. Of course, the door is too small for them both to fit through at once, so Melinda goes first. She stifles her smile as one of the flight attendants nearby gives her a subtle thumbs up as they walk back to their seats. Melinda agrees for sure.
Sooner than she expected, the plane descends, and they land. Melinda and Hunter stay seated though as others begin to exit the plane. It takes a while, and Hunter makes a few comical faces when a woman’s butt is next to his head, but soon they’re off the plane. As they make their way to baggage claim, Melinda drops Hunter’s hand. He doesn’t say a word and doesn’t reach for her hand, but he does keep close to her. Their shoulders and hands brush against each other in simple, insignificant touches but never cease to make Melinda’s heart flutter for reasons it shouldn’t.
As they approach baggage claim, Hunter nearly lunges for a suitcase that comes around on the conveyor. He grabs it, checks the tag, and nods to himself before rejoining Melinda. Silence passes between them.
Hunter clears his throat. “Guess this is it.”
“Guess so,” Melinda agrees. Asking for his number is on the tip of her tongue, but she swallows it back. Hunter was a one-time thing. “Have a safe trip.”
At her words, Hunter seems to deflate but quickly picks himself up. “You too, love.”
With that, Hunter grabs his bag and walks away. When he’s at the escalator, Hunter turns around, finding Melinda. When he sees her, he smiles and lifts one hand to give her a lazy two finger salute. A laugh bubbles out of Melinda before she can stop it. She waves and holds his gaze for a second longer before Hunter turns and boards the escalator. Melinda keeps her eye on the back of his head until it disappears.
Melinda is fine never seeing Hunter again. She is. She
doesn’t
think about warm brown eyes and a cheeky smile the entire time she’s standing around, no, she does not. But, Melinda is distracted enough to not double check her luggage as she grabs it and too preoccupied with ordering an Uber and giving directions to look at the suitcase by her side. Only when she gets in her hotel room and tosses the case onto the bed does something catch her eye.
Melinda pauses in kicking off her shoes to walk over to the bed, eyes glued on the bright red jersey luggage tag that certainly isn’t hers. It flops, clinking against the zipper from how the bag bounced on the bed. She grabbed the wrong luggage. Melinda groans, closing her eyes. All she wants to do is take a shower, order room service and sleep for at least ten hours, but now she has to deal with this. Just as she’s reaching to turn the tag over and see whose luggage she has, her phone lights up.
The unknown number makes her defenses raise, but the message that follows it brings Melinda up short.
Unknown number:
Is this Melinda?
Unknown number:
Before you block me, or make any of your scary coworkers track my number. It’s Hunter.
Unknown number:
I appear to have your luggage.
Melinda:
I have yours as well.
Melinda:
Where are you staying?
Airplane Dick:
Four Points
Melinda:
I’m there. Floor 19 room 201b.
Briefly, Melinda wonders the possibilities of Hunter just so happening to be staying at the same hotel that she is, but doesn’t question it further. It’s convenient more than suspicious, and soon there’s a knock at the door and Hunter’s voice, albeit muffled, reaches Melinda’s ears.
“Did someone order a suitcase?”
Hunter is smiling when Melinda opens the door, leaning against her suitcase in a way that once again makes his biceps bulge. Tearing her eyes away from his arms, Melinda greets. “Long time no see.”
“If I’m honest, I did not expect to see you here,” Hunter says. He leans up pushes her suitcase toward her.
“You didn’t expect to be in the same hotel, or to see me again?”
He only shrugs, the twinkle in his eye not giving anything away. Melinda has already figured him out, that’s for sure, but she doesn’t say anything more on that matter.
“Did you take any of my underwear again?” Melinda teases as she takes the suitcase before rolling Hunter’s over to him.
Hunter laughs. “I did not, actually. Didn’t even take a peek, promise.”
“I believe you.” He wouldn’t have been able to get past the security lock anyway. Melinda studies him a moment before asking, “Would you like to go down to the bar and have a drink?”
Hunter’s brows raise in surprise, but then he’s smiling. “I would.”
Turning, Melinda slides her shoes back on and grabs her room key and phone before shutting the door behind her. Then, she holds out her hand that Hunter takes, lacing their fingers together.
Over time Hunter’s contact changes from Airplane Dick to Hunter and then finally to Lance. Weeks later when Melinda is back home in Los Angeles and waking up to sleepy brown eyes, and Hunter’s arms wrapped tight around her, she mentally thanks her past self for not giving this opportunity, or man, up.