It had been an evening straight out of a romance novel, Miranda Wagner thought to herself. Seated in the back of a stretch limousine with a crystal champagne flute in her hand, Miranda admired her professionally manicured nails as well as the sparkling diamonds and pearls adorning her wrists, ears and sleek neck. As her mysterious man of the evening filled her glass, Miranda shut her eyes and inhaled softly but deeply, breathing the enticing aroma of fine leather which covered the seats of this magnificent transport. As her full and ruby lips gently made contact with the rim of the crystal flute, the crisp bite of the chilled Dom Perignon tickled her tongue and soothed her throat as it went down. Shifting her lean and slender body, Miranda sexily crossed her legs toward her handsome companion and the stimulating scent of his Stetson cologne whiffed into her nostrils. It wasn't often that Miranda found the scent of a man so appealing. In fact, it had never happened. But this night had been so perfect, so romantic and so seducing that Miranda had inadvertently succumb to her innermost feminine wiles.
Miranda Wagner stood an imposing 5'11"; her body was a lean, powerful, finely tuned athletic instrument. Possessing exquisite feminine muscle definition from the tips of her toes to the top of her head and wrapped with sultry alabaster skin and delicate feminine softness, Miranda turned every head she passed. Combining these with her platinum blonde hair that flowed fully and gracefully to just above her shoulder blades, piercing sky blue eyes, a sparkling white, pearly smile, ruby lips, firm and perky 34 C-cup breasts and the face of an angel; a face that looked ten years younger than Miranda's thirty-nine years, the woman's sexual allure to the male species was virtually irresistible.
The limo suddenly made a sharp turn to the right and Miranda opened her eyes to find her gaze met by the deep and captivating stare of her companion. He was truly a man among men; a man that could melt any woman into a puddle of sexual submission and have her willingly fulfilling all of his deepest wants and desires in a matter of moments. Six feet three with dark olive skin, thick and greased black hair with penetrating dark eyes on a rugged face with a perfectly groomed goatee. His body was almost supernaturally powerful, toned and ripped with muscle to near Greek God perfection; he had a captivating smile, a hypnotic laugh, a heart melting Latin accent and possessed the charm of the serpent that tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden.
Running the tip of a gold-ringed finger gently over the delicate and soft white silk-stockings that covered her long and toned legs, Miranda's heart thumped wildly as her body tensed upon feeling his lips make contact with the delectable skin of her perfectly sleek and alluring neck. Nervously twisting the string of pearls with her finger, Miranda took another sip of her champagne as she again shifted her body weight and crossed her legs the other direction.
"Are you alright?" He asked in his deep and sexy Latin accent.
"I'm fine." Miranda replied assuredly.
"Are you sure?" He continued. "You seem so nervous all of the sudden."
"Well, maybe just a little. I mean, it's not every day that a waitress at Denny's in East Los Angeles is swept off her feet like this." Miranda covered.
"It should be everyday, my love." He hissed seductively; his lips and tongue just centimeters from her ear.
Miranda could feel is breath in her ear and felt his powerful hand sliding firmly and slowly down the front of her body. Miranda's pulse accelerated, her stomach spasmed and she felt dizzy. Turning her head and staring hard out the dark tinted window, Miranda saw it.
"Oh my God!" Miranda almost shouted as she looked out the window. "Is that yours?"
The limo was cruising along a secluded access road on the outer perimeter of the Los Angeles International Airport, approaching a restricted area of private hangars where many of Hollywood's elite and certain others with more money that God himself kept their most exclusive flying toys. Miranda's eyes focused on a Gulfstream III, a wide-body private business jet that provided seating for up to nineteen passengers, long range flight capability and a maximum cruising speed of nearly 575 miles per hour. The sleek aircraft sat waiting in the night, gangway open with a red carpet rolled out on the tarmac in front of her brightly lit hangar. Her aluminum body glistened under the light.
"One of several." He replied with an ego-centric grin.
"I thought you said we were just going for coffee?" Miranda asked.
"We are. And what better place to have an after dinner coffee than in Seattle?" he said.
"Oh, I think I'm in love." Miranda whispered and pecked him quickly on the lips. She felt the bile rising in her throat.
The limo came to a stop at the head of the red carpet and the door was opened by an enormous bear of a man in an Armani suit that Miranda could practically see her reflection in. His shoulders were massive, his neck practically non-existent and his body rivaled the size of a full moon. His arms were the size of any other man's legs, his eyes were deeply embedded in his puffy red cheeks and his goatee was as neatly groomed as her companions. Reaching his bear paw of a right hand in through the open door, Miranda slipped her much smaller hand into it and he helped her out. Miranda immediately noticed the 9 mm Beretta holstered just inside the man's jacket.
Besides "Bear man" packing the heat, there was a stunning woman whom Miranda, judging strictly by her face, placed in her early fifties. Though the woman's face was attractive with sharp and striking blue eyes and high cheeks, it was considerably worn by life and lined deeply; especially around her mouth, which Miranda found very comely and alluring none the less. Her body, on the other hand, said that the woman was at least twenty years younger than that. She wore a splendid navy blue flight attendant uniform complete with a silk scarf and classic hat. A pair of sparkling gold flying wings was pinned just above her surprisingly big and pert breasts; she had sexy long legs, a scrumptious looking ass, divinely curved hips, coal black hair that draped down to the base of her long neck. Her gold plated name tag read Tammy. Along with Tammy, two uniformed pilots, a man with Captain's bars in his mid forties and another attractive woman acting as FO was probably in her late thirties to just past forty. They all were waiting beside the gangway. Miranda's stomach knotted slightly and she sighed softly at the sight of the three crew members. It couldn't be helped.
Miranda's companion stepped out of the limo after her, they joined arms and he escorted her to the gangway. The crew members offered warm greetings to him and Miranda as he assisted her up the gangway and into the lavish interior of the aircraft. Much like the limo, it was all leather and shiny mahogany; a full service wet bar, loveseats and sofas, flat screen, plasma TV screens, internet, satellite phones, the works. Divided into two cabins, Miranda was led through the front cabin, where she noted two more men, both with dark complexions and lean, powerful builds, much like her companion; they too were wearing Armani suits and armed with semi-automatic pistols holstered inside their jackets. They sat almost soulless on the leather sofas of the front cabin and Miranda felt their icy stares on her as she walked through. Twiddle Dumb and Twiddle Dee, Miranda thought. Miranda then heard the thud of the cabin door closing behind her and then the muffled conversation between the pilots as they entered the flight deck. Bear man joined his two comrades in arms sitting in the front cabin while Tammy the flight attendant followed the couple into the rear cabin and shut the door behind them.
"Champagne?" Tammy asked in thick European accent.
"Please." Miranda's companion replied.
Tammy disappeared into the rear galley as Miranda adjusted her long Versace evening gown and seated herself on one of the leather sofas as her companion sank down into the leather cushion beside her, draping his arm around her sexily muscled, bare shoulders. Within moments the aircraft engines roared to life. Tammy reappeared from the rear galley carrying a silver tray with two more filled champagne flutes on it. They took their glasses, toasted them and then nuzzled nose to nose as the aircraft taxied out to the runway. Miranda's stomach had completely tied itself in knots and her heart raced. Tiny beads of sweat formed just under her hairline. Miranda didn't notice that her body was trembling until her companion whispered in her ear.
"Nervous?" He asked.
"Not much on flying." Miranda lied.
