The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series (30 page)

That gets a grin out of the security guard so my worries are momentarily eased.

"See, Herbert. They love me." He steps into the scanner and another guard says something to him. He puts his hand over his head. He thrusts his hips as it scans him.

"Hah! Bet it don't fit on your screen." He's apparently committed to the big cock bit.

"Sir. We need to do it again. Please stand still."

"That's what she said."

Finally, we make it through security. We near our gate, and Tommy is shaking and fidgeting with shit more than ever.

"It's not the flying that I hate, Herbert. It's more being trapped with all these sweaty beings around here in an aluminum tube as it rockets above the earth at thirty-five thousand feet."

The four people near us get up and leave as Tommy stretches out in his seat. "Ahh. Much better."

"You're out of control."

"That's what they tell me."

"You think she'll take me back?"

"Yes."

"How are you so sure?" I lean in closer to him.

"Because she loves you. This is not rocket science. My fear of flying analysis is. The only one who will fuck it up is you."

"Thanks." I look down at the floor.

"I'm serious, bro. You're the one who gets in your own way. Just stop being a pussy and go for it. What the fuck are you so afraid of?"

"She's hard-headed man. She's not like the other girls. She doesn't seem like the type who gives second chances. Maybe this is a big mistake."

His hands are on my collar, and I feel him slap me slightly across the face. Everyone in the goddamn airport is staring at us. I wait for him to say something but he just sits there, staring.

"What the fuck?" I stare back at him, and I can tell he's trying not to laugh. Finally, I give in and burst into laughter.

His cheeks are huge, and his face is bright-pink as he tries not to laugh. "The Panty Whisperer isn't a fucking pussy dick."

Everyone must think we're insane at this point.

"Keep your voice down. You're going to get us kicked out of this fucking place."

"Do not look to the naysayers, for the Panty Whisperer will inherit the Earth." He slaps me across the face again.

"Goddamn it. You hit me again—"

I feel the sting on my cheek again, and I want to kill him but his ridiculous face keeps me laughing.

"Okay.
Okay
. Fuck. Just don't slap me again."

"About time your nuts dropped." He lets go of my collar.

Fortunately, our little act is cut short by a woman on the loudspeaker telling us to board. We get up and head that way. The other people waiting for the flight can't get out of our way fast enough.

Tommy is on my heels and in my fucking ear the whole way. I can practically feel the sweat beads that must be forming on his forehead.

"Joel? Joel?"

I do my best to ignore him.

"Whisperer? Psst, Herbert? Psst, Sir Whisperer?" The volume of his voice increases with each question.

"What?" I practically scream, but it's a whisper.

"Hold me."

"I told you that you didn't have to come."

"Well, like, I thought it was a good idea. But then I started thinking again about being enclosed in this piece-o-shit metal frame, maintained by uneducated laborers, hurtling through spacetime at an ungodly rate, whilst thirty-five thousand feet above the ground." He pauses and stares at me. "Well, it kinda has me shitting my fucking panties, Sir!"

I flip around and there are two kids that can't be more than ten years old that look like they might shriek. Their mother has her fists drawn up, and Tommy's goddamned shirt is soaked at the neckline. His face is pale as a ghost, and the zipper on his bag is rattling from his hands constantly trembling.

I stop us in the tunnel, much to the chagrin of the line of passengers, and wave the mom and kids past us. His eyes meet mine as my hand grips Tommy's favorite
Star Wars
t-shirt. "Jesus Christ. Even Jar Jar Binks wouldn't act like such a pussy."

"You son of a fuck! How dar—"

"Hey, can we speed this up for crying out loud?" says some impatient bystander in a business suit.

Tommy glares in his direction and shoots his arm out like he's using the force to choke this guy out.

"Oh what the fuck is this whack job doing? C'mon buddy, we're in a hurry here."

I'm so embarrassed I don't know what the hell to do. "Sorry, it's his first time flying. Just give us a second." I turn to Tommy. "They're showing
Desperado
for the in-flight movie."

There is no in-flight movie. This flight is approximately two hours and thirty-two minutes, but Tommy doesn't know this.

His eyes light up and then grow serious. "Unedited? With Salma Hayek titties and reverse cowgirl? Or is it some edited bullshit, Herbert?"

"Full titties. Promise."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" His voice is normal as he strolls past me toward the cockpit.

We finally get seated and taxi out onto the runway. Thank god it's a smaller plane and nobody is sitting next to us, not that it matters since everyone is practically stuffed together. Tommy is looking all around the plane. I know it's only a matter of time until my ruse is snuffed out.

"Where are the monitors? To watch the movie?" His eyes are darting all over the place, and I know he's pretty much memorized the fucking electrical outlay of the entire aircraft. I decide to lie anyway, go out with a bang. Hopefully, it will buy enough time to get us in the air.

"Oh, they flip down from up there by the lights and stuff." I nod to the gadgets overhead.

"Bullshit. Those are oxygen masks in there." He peers around a bit more. "There's no way they'd wire fold down monitors, the shit is inefficient."

"That's how it was on the last plane. I don't know, man. Fuck."

He's still shaking his head in disbelief. "You said titties. Oh, I'm gonna be so mad if you made me confront my fears without those latin titties bouncing on Banderas' dick. I swear to Christ, man." He pokes at the air conditioner fans.

"Look, maybe they'll wheel out a monitor or something. It's what it said, okay?"

"Oh, we'll see." He nods his head, as if he plans to punish me severely for my lies.

He's passed the point of funny to socially awkward and unaware. Usually, he would take into account the presence of children and the elderly, but now, it's all fair game.

I spy a man strapping a baby seat to a chair three rows ahead of us and my face hits my palm before I even finish processing what he's doing.

"Look at this shit, Herbert. A baby seat? On a plane? Really?"

"Oh fuck me," I mumble. I know that's not all he has to say.

"Yeah, because a car seat will protect a toddler when you rocket this motherfucker four hundred miles per hour into the side of a mountain."

And we now have the attention of the stewardess. I turn to Tommy, and it's like fire is raging in my cheeks. "Get your shit together,
now
."

"What?" He feigns as if he has no clue what he's doing is inappropriate.

"Knock off the fucks, shits, dick grabs, titty talk, physics facts." I stare at him and grind my teeth. "All of it!"

"Well, you just went and covered everything didn't you, asshole? I'll just sit here and breathe. Is that okay with you, Herbert?"

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" The stewardess looms over us, her arms folded as she glares.

"Oh, no problem Ma'am. Why do you ask?" Tommy smiles at her.

She doesn't return the gesture. "We've had several complaints."

I start to speak, and Tommy cuts me off. "About what?" His smile grows wider.

"Sir, I will have you removed if you don't watch your language. Not another word."

"Fine."

She narrows her brow, turns on her heel, and walks away.

"Phew. Thank god."

"Don't wake me up if we crash." Tommy flings his head back into the seat.

"No problem, sweetie."

"Love you, bitch."

"Night, dear."

Tommy reaches over without looking and pats me on the head. "Shh. Sleepy time."

Tommy wakes up as we are landing and grips my forearm. His nails dig into my skin.

"Jesus." I try to yank my arm away, but it's not happening.

"This is it, Herbert. We're gonna die."

"We're fine."

The wheels connect with the ground and Tommy bears down on my arm. I'm on the verge of laughing hysterically at his face. He looks like he might shit his pants and blow a load at the same time.

My chest heaves up and down as I try to contain my laughter. We finally slow down and start to taxi. He's panting his ass off.

His head swivels around to people conducting their business as usual. His eyes light up. "We did it. We made it guys." He high fives the toddler who stands up in the seat across the aisle. "That's what I'm talking about right there."

Tommy turns to me. "So go check in at the hotel?"

"Nope. I have to see her. Now."

QUINN

I
RIFLE
THROUGH
my bag and pull out a stack of packets. They're really just my PowerPoint presentation printed out and stapled. The conference room is surrounded by glass on three sides and the people walking down the halls keep staring at me like I'm an exhibit at the zoo.

I walk around the table and drop a packet where each person will sit. As I turn my back to the door and head down the other side, I hear my name.

"Quinn."

I flip around too fast and nearly face plant, bracing myself on the edge of the table. When I get my shit together, I glance up to see blue eyes, and he flashes me a flawless smile with a set of perfect white teeth.

"Hey there." I pause for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts and my composure. "I didn't get your name last time."

"It's Simon. You okay?" He nods toward the corner of the table that caught me before I fell.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Good." He starts to head around the table and walk in my direction.

Fuck.

"You haven't responded to the offer we sent over." He cants his head slightly and examines me.

I want to run out of the room. His stare and his eyes have my heart racing.

"I'm still thinking on it. Do you need an answer immediately?" I smooth my black skirt down with my hands.

He grins. "No. I really just wanted an excuse to come see you. I heard you'd be in the office today, talking to some of the managers. I'm sorry. It's inappropriate, I know."

It'd be pretty hot if it weren't for these fucking feels owning my every move. "Look, Simon. You're a nice—"

"Oh boy. C'mon. I can take it." He smiles again, but this time it seems forced.

"I'm getting over someone. And the wounds are still really fresh." I lean over to put my arm where I thought there was a chair, but my arm finds nothing but air and I stumble again. I catch my balance and stand up straight. "Jesus. See? You don't want any part of this. I can't even function."

"It's okay." He pauses. "I had to try, right?"

My face has to be tomato-red, because I can feel the tingling in my cheeks. "You're going to have to go so I can focus. I've got people coming in here soon. But I'll have an answer to you by tomorrow, if that's okay?"