Possessive Parisian Pilot: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 90) Read online

  POSSESSIVE PARISIAN PILOT

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 90

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Possessive Parisian Pilot

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop

  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian

  Book 76: Hockey Obsession

  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter

  Book 78: Halloween Next Door

  Book 79: Possessive Russian

  Book 80: Baseball Mine

  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive

  Book 82: Instalove Island

  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss

  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor

  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese

  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop

  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession

  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas

  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot

  POSSESSIVE PARISIAN PILOT

  She’s been mine since the first moment I saw her.

  She’s about to miss her flight to Paris and I’m not about to miss my chance to be her possessive Parisian pilot, offering her a chance to fly first class with me...in more ways than one.

  And this Parisian older man obsessed with this younger woman from abroad knows immediately that she’s the one. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt this way, and I’m going to make her mine and claim her in Paris before I put a ring on her finger and babies in her belly.

  It’s her first time in France, and I’m going to be her first, and last, for life.

  And I won’t stop until we’re a big ol’ French family with kids of all ages because the most important thing is life is having a family of our own. Family first. Family always. And this possessive Parisian pilot’s family starts and ends with her.

  And to anyone who thinks Frenchmen are only lovers and not fighters…you’ll see just how mistaken you are if you try and make a move on what’s mine.

  *Possessive Parisian Pilot is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER 1

  Marie

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Boarding for this flight is now closed.”

  “But I can see other passengers in the tunnel. They’re still in line. Look,” I say, holding up my ticket to the airline employee. “My ticket is right here. All you have to do is scan it and I’ll be in that line in like literally five seconds.”

  The woman turns and points toward the monitor which displays, “BOARDING CLOSED.” The all caps are a nice touch.

  “Look. I understand, and I w
as here at the airport three hours early but I was randomly selected,” I say making air quotes around those two words, “for further screening. I was taken in some room, stripped down to my freaking bra and panties only to find out that, ‘Oh sorry, you looked like someone else so we just wanted to be cautions. I’m sure you understand.’”

  “Well, I guess you should have been here four hours early then,” she says as she rolls her hand over and looks at her fingernails hoping I’ll go away.

  “Uh!” I say, breathing out hard.

  Whatever happened to girl power and women lifting each other up? Where’s Gwen Stefani when you need her most?

  Seemingly pleased with her manicurist’s work, the woman rolls her shoulders side to side and not so subtly pushes up her bra which at first I wouldn’t have guessed she was wearing based on how much cleavage she’s showing and how she had one too many buttons on her jacket undone, and throws her hair back.

  I don’t know what I dislike more, her bitchy, holier than thou attitude, her impossible hip to waist ratio, or the fact that she’ll be boarding this plane, “late” of course, and I won’t.

  My fingers squeeze hard against my small backpack which I’m carrying, thinking that if I swung this thing around the Kindle and two hardcovers inside slamming against the side of her head would definitely make this holiday season a little merrier for me at the moment, and not for this Grinch who is trying her hardest to steal my Christmas.

  “Excuse me, mademoiselle. Can I help here?” The words come from just behind and off to the side of me, cloaking me as I spin to see who’s attached to the smoky, sensual sounds of English with a French accent that roll off the tongue like a knife through hot butter.

  “Um…uh…” I feel my breath catch and my entire body clench as I take in the sight of the large man in the pilot’s uniform wearing aviator sunglasses inside L.A.X.

  Sunglasses inside would normally have my douchebag sirens going off like a four a.m. fire alarm at the station, but in this case it works…oh my lord does it work.

  It’s closing in on three in the afternoon in Los Angeles and the late day sun is shining right in through the windows, the glare making it almost impossible to see him that well until he steps to the side blocking out the entire reflection from the floor to ceiling windows that must be more than twenty feet.

  “Yes, captain,” the Grinch says. “We have an unruly passenger and I was just getting ready to call security…and after that I was going to take my break…alone, unless…” she says twirling her finger in her hair.

  Great. So she’s not a part of the flight crew, but instead she’ll be here at the airport making sure I get arrested for trespassing or some other nonsense charge here in the world’s biggest police state that goes by the name of California.

  I hear the Grinch’s words, but I don’t turn to look at her…and neither does the pilot, unless he’s some sort of reptile.

  I can’t make out his eyes through the deep green-gray shades of his Ray-Bans, but I can see his head, and his body, are now completely squared up to me.

  “An unruly passenger, huh?” he says his body moving closer. “You’re being a bad girl this Christmas.”

  “Um…no, I mean not exactly.”

  “Well you know what they say. Good girls go to heaven, and bad girls go to…Paris,” he says taking me by the arm and leading me over to the next gate.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” I say, but he doesn’t even turn to acknowledge my words as he leads away.

  “There you are, captain,” the agent at the next gate over says. “We thought you weren’t going to make it,” the agent says winking at him.

  Oh my god, I haven’t been on a date in I don’t know how long and this pilot has the most attractive woman and man I’ve seen all day hitting on him, not to mention this is L.A., where all the most beautiful people from all over the world come to make it in some sort of field that relies on them being the cream of the crop in terms of appearance.

  And here he is holding me by the arm like I’m his, with a possessiveness I’ve never experienced before.

  “Right on time,” he says. “And I even brought our V.I.P. Guest…” he says turning to me.

  “Marie,” I finally say.

  “Hi Marie,” the attendant says.

  “Nice to meet you, Clement,” I say reading his nametag. I could be way off here, but he looks like a mix of French and maybe Algerian, Tunisian, or Moroccan with his creamy brown skin and light green eyes. He’s very attractive and perfectly coiffed in a Lady Gaga video or Tony Duran photo shoot kind of way, but in no way does he display the rugged, masculine, self-assured way of Captain Confidence.

  “Can I see your ticket, please?” Clement says.

  I go to hand it to him and feel the captain’s hand slide from my arm and then quickly corkscrew as he snatches up my ticket and holds it up to Clement as he walks us through the scanning area.

  “I need to scan her ticket, sir.”

  “It’s okay, Clement. I have it,” he says, sticking it in his front jacket pocket just behind the silver wing pendant.

  God, is he the picture of every alpha male in uniform fantasy there ever was.

  “But sir, I have to scan it or else the T.S.A, F.A.A., N.S.A., C.I.A., F.B.I., L.A.P.D., F.C.C., Sky Marshalls, and Airport Security will all have my behind.”

  Speaking of behinds I’m completely confident that this possessive pilot is the first man I’ve ever met who is the type who could spank mine all night on a Sunday, and hold the door open for me on a Monday. Talk about making me wet and making me feel like a classy woman all at the same time.

  “I’ll tell them you didn’t see a thing,” the captain says as we walk down the tunnel before Clement has a chance to protest again.

  “You’ll be in seat one a,” the pilot says. “I’ll come see how you’re doing, but not until we’re at cruising altitude,” he says.

  “Ok,” I say, having no clue what the appropriate response for this situation is.

  In what seems like seconds we’re boarding the plane, only for me to be asked for my ticket again.

  “She’s with me,” the pilot says.

  I watch as the flight attendant’s mouth opens as he prepares to say something, but when Captain Confidence literally bares his teeth and I swear I hear a slight snarl, the attendant trips over himself and into the drink tray.

  “Pierre was just getting you a complimentary glass of champagne, right, Pierre?”

  “Yes, sir,” he says, dusting himself off, grabbing a stepladder and pulling out a bottle of…Dom Pérignon!

  “I’ll take that,” the pilot says, taking my backpack and helping me into the very first seat in first class. “Would you like your bag with you or in the overhead?”

  “Overhead. Thank you,” I say. He carefully places my bag in the overhead bin that barely reaches his eye level. Wow is he tall.

  “Here you are,” Pierre says handing me a flute of the bubbly. “Captain, you’ve got a call from the other airline,” he says handing him a walkie-talkie.

  “This is the captain speaking,” he says holding down the button.

  “Captain, we understand you have one of our passengers. Our flight has been delayed by two hours and we’re having the passengers exit the plane and move back into the boarding area. Miss…Marie Matthews, is welcome to join the other passengers in the boarding area.”

  Through gritted teeth the pilot says, “You had your chance…now she’s mine.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Gabriel

  “Who’s that hot little number with you in seat one a?” Baptiste, my co-pilot asks.

  My fingers curl around the thrust lever as my head darts to the side, my eyes throwing daggers at Baptiste.

  “Don’t you fucking talk about her that way ever again or I’ll have you flying the French Foreign Legion cargo planes in and out of war zones with your jaw wired shut, you understand me?” I snarl.

  “Sorry man! Jeez. I was trying to give yo
u, and her, a compliment.”

  “There’s never a need to compliment another man’s woman that way. You can compliment her cooking, or her home, if you’ve been invited over. You can compliment her skills if you work with her. Beyond that you keep your mouth shut, at least when it comes to my woman.”

  “Sorry. I…I didn’t know she was yours.”

  “Well now you do.”

  “Captain, prepare for takeoff,” crackles in my headset.

  I look down, realizing I’m white knuckle gripping the thrust lever, and it’s not the only thrust lever that’s completely vertical.

  My cock is a complete beast right now, an animal.

  Our Boeing 777 has a throttle lever assembly that’s designed to incorporate high-pressure cock switches so that pilots can instinctively control the fuel supply to the engine.

  Well, right now my cock switches are pulling all the “fuel supply” from my brain and straight into my other head as my dick points due north as my trousers strain to keep it contained.