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THE MILE HIGH CLUB


I was asleep on the plane after having watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory on the little interactive TV. AJ was next to me, slumped into my shoulder and drooling. I was about to be doing the same to the little pillow thing the stewardess gave me when I felt nature calling. I groaned and got up, struggling with the seatbelt and slipping out from under AJ to head to the latrine. I stumbled, sleepy and unstable on planes anyways, and finally got myself locked into the vacant bathroom. I was in the middle of peeing when she showed up, her smiling face over my shoulder in the mirror.

"Jesus," I snapped, shocked. I finished prematurely and shoved myself away, "What the hell are you doing in here?" I demanded, pulling the fly up on my jeans. I decided not to bother asking how she got in. She moved swiftly. Her strength once again being displayed as she pushed me against the wall roughly.

Her mouth was hungry on mine, emblazoned with passion. Her hand ran down the length of me and grabbed at my freshly returned goods. She squeezed. "I want you," she whispered. She knelt down and started playing with the button and fly.

I fell back into the toilet, almost knocking the lid off with the velocity. She grabbed the jeans at the waist and pulled them down to my knees in one swift move. I grabbed at the wall, my toes curling as her mouth started tracing along the top of my boxer shorts' waist band. "Fuck," I murmured. It felt so good...

I looked down at her auburn hair as she started to pull down my boxers, though, and a flash of a thought went through my head.

She's not Melly.

My hand flew to her head and I pushed her away, grabbing at the band of my boxers and keeping them put. Victoria banged into the door of the latrine and she looked up, anger in her eyes once again, they started turning that red color. "Why did you do that?" she demanded.

"I can't do this," I mumbled.

She looked at the tent my excitement had caused. "It sure looks like you should be just fine to do it," she smirked.

I swallowed. "I don't mean like that," I said.

Victoria got up and leaned over me. "She's never going to take you back," she whispered, "She's not right for you even if she does. She's not your soulmate like I am."

"You aren't my soulmate," I grumbled.

"Oh? Aren't I?"

I blinked up at her. "No... You scare the shit out of me, actually, and I'm pretty sure a soulmate wouldn't do that."

Victoria's hand cupped me, squeezing. I felt all the blood rush to her hand, my head dizzy with the desire she was provoking to rise up in me with her touch. "Anyone who wasn't your soulmate could never do this to you," she whispered huskily.

"Fucking a..." I said, drawing out the "ayyyyy" sound for a long moment.

Victoria's hand snaked into my boxers again and I licked my lips, eyes screwed tightly shut, and she administered a touch like unbe-freaking-lievable until I was reduced to a gasping, shaking mess of nerves when she was done. I sat there, leaning against the wall of the latrine, my heart racing. I'd received plenty of attention in my lifetime, but never quite like that. I was sweating.

Victoria crawled onto my lap, the dress she was wearing hiking up, grinding against me. "Welcome to the Mile High Club," she said quietly, "Though I'm sure I'm not the first to induct you..." She leaned close to me and her chest pressed against mine. She kissed me, her tongue tickling my skin. Her mouth roamed across my face, chin, neck and shoulders. She ran her hand down my chest.

My breaths came out in great shaking gasps. "I can barely breathe," I observed.

She smiled, "That's what you said the first time we did this," she whispered.

"The first time we did this?" I asked, confused.

Victoria's eyes locked with mine, brilliantly icy-blue. "Yes, of course," she whispered. "Don't you remember?" She leaned down and kissed my collar bone. My mind raced over the confusion of events in Japan. Even in the hotel room, though, I was certain we'd never done that before. Victoria's eyes never broke their gaze into mine, even as she kissed my chest. "No?" she asked, sounding a little hurt.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"1993," she whispered. "In your bedroom closet... it was one of the last times I ever saw you," she said, "Until the other night."

I stared at her.

"Please, Nicky," she said in her sultry, low voice, "Don't you remember me? You promised you'd never forget me." She stared at me with those icy eyes.

"Holy shit," I whispered. "Vicky... it's you."

A smile spread across her face, "You do remember me."

My heart was slamming in my chest.