CHAPTER TWO
MY ENNUI
PAST
JAMES
My phone chimed a message at me as the gate agent let me onto the jet bridge. This flying commercial business, even if it was a private charter, was more hassle than I was used to.
"Mr. Walker is running a few minutes behind, but he will be joining you shortly," the gate agent told my back.
I just nodded, thanking her for letting me know. What were a few more minutes, when I'd already wasted forty-five minutes just getting to the plane?
I checked my phone, my mouth twisting into a grimace when I saw that the text was from Jolene. She managed to beg to see me again, and beg for money in one short text. Usually she tried to separate those two requests, but I kind of appreciated her brevity. It made me feel less like a cad for occasionally fucking women that I couldn't stand when they proved to want money out of the exchange. I far preferred to give her money as opposed to my time.
James: I'm otherwise engaged for the foreseeable future, but contact Ben K for the money. The usual routine. Just tell him how much you need.
Jolene: Thx! Can't wait to see you again. Last night was incredible. Love u xoxo
I nearly rolled my eyes. Last night had been tolerable, and I hated it when she threw out the L word. All we'd ever shared was a predilection for rough and kinky fucking. And she knew very well that I wouldn't be contacting her anytime soon, if ever. More and more, hooking up with her just wore on me. Which was sad, considering how seldom it ever even happened. How could you get sick of a person that you saw twice a year, and only for sex?
I tucked my phone away as I approached the entrance into the aircraft. There was no one to greet me at the door, but it didn't matter. I knew that there was supposed to be a few passengers in coach, and that Bram Walker and I would be the only ones in first class, which wasn't hard to find.
I turned left, glancing down at my watch as I stepped into the first class cabin.
I looked up, and froze.
A tall blonde flight attendant nearly ran into me, but stopped just short, her chin tilting up to look at me. Her eyes widened, and she froze. She was lovely, with the palest blue eyes I'd ever seen and soft pink lips that formed a small O of surprise as she looked at me. A very attractive pink blush colored her cheeks. It made no sense at all, but we just stood there, frozen in place, staring at each other for a solid five minutes.
I studied her, instantly attracted, though that was an understatement. I was enthralled. There was something so irresistible in her eyes. They were so pale they struck me as a hint translucent. Pale blue eyes often came across as cold, but not hers. Hers were clear as water, so clear I felt like I was seeing something impossible, some hint of a kindred soul peeking out, or perhaps, of a person who would complement my own proclivities.
I doubted she was a sub; the chances were just too slim, but I was certain she was suited to be one. I felt as though I was holding her in place with just my force of will, and I loved that feeling.
My whole body felt alive, excitement pulsing through me. It made me realize suddenly just how clinical sex had become to me—nothing more than the methodical scratching of a biological itch.
How long had this ennui had such a hold on me? I had no idea. I hadn't realized that I'd been suffering from it at all until just that moment.
Like waking up from a nightmare, when you hadn't known you were dreaming.
I wasn't feeling it now, though. Not with this one.
I felt suddenly awake, suddenly alive.
This one seemed too perfect. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt desire like this. How long had I just been going through the motions? I couldn't have said, but I had a moment of absolute clarity as I stood staring at her. I had been disinterested in way too many personal aspects of my life for far too long. I couldn't bring myself to be upset about that, because I wasn't disinterested now. On the contrary, I was fascinated at a glance.
Neither of us moved until I heard Bram's damned voice booming at me all the way from the jet bridge. "James Cavendish!"
Bram was a bit obnoxious. He was an old-time CEO at heart; from back in the day when being in charge meant you could do whatever the hell you wanted. Nowadays it was just the opposite. Being in charge meant that you had to be professional around your employees at all times, but Bram had never gotten that memo. I knew he'd be drunk before we took off, even though this was a business meeting. I would tolerate him, though and hear him out.
I could remember when he would come over to our house for dinner when I was a kid, before my parents had died. He and my father had been close. Because of their bond and those memories of my father laughing at his loud jokes, I'd always humor the obnoxious old bastard.
The loud voice of her boss galvanized the lovely woman into action, and it was only as she shifted that I realized she'd been holding a dripping bag of ice for our entire stare-down. There was a tiny puddle of water between us. I watched as two more drops gathered on the bottom of the bag and then fell to hit the ground.
I grinned. At least I wasn't the only one who'd forgotten that the rest of the world existed.
"Excuse me, Mr. Cavendish," she murmured in a soft voice.
I shifted to the side, then turned to watch her as she made her way to the back of the plane. She was just handing the bag of ice off to another flight attendant when Bram moved in to block my view of her.
He grinned at me, waving his arm for me to take a seat. I could tell just from glancing at him that he was already well into his cups. It was going to be a very long flight.
I felt like I'd just had a lobotomy as I made my way into the nearest seat. I couldn't think straight—couldn't focus at all, not on one solidified thought, let alone whatever Bram was going on about as he followed me.
I sat near the aisle, making Bram nearly stumble over my long legs to get to the window seat.
I nodded at whatever the hell he was saying, trying not to crane my head around to see what that woman was doing. I thought of her soft voice and how she'd called me Mr. Cavendish.
She'd sealed her fate with that alone . . .
She was wringing her hands when she approached our seats. Other than that small tell, though, she seemed to have regained her composure. I didn't like that. I wanted to ruffle that composure again.
"Welcome aboard, Mr. Walker, Mr. Cavendish. What can I get you to drink?"
"Crown Royal on the rocks, sweetheart," Bram told her with a big smile.
"Just a bottle of water," I told her, not liking Bram's greasy smile.
"May I take your jackets?" she asked.
We both shook our heads no. I watched her walk away, admiring the view.
"I see you're enjoying my airline," Bram said with a chuckle.
I gave him an arch, and not entirely friendly, look. "It wasn't your airline I was enjoying."
He shrugged. "Same thing. I have a whole fleet of girls like Bianca."
Bianca, I thought. I had a name. It was a start.
My mouth twisted. "Not possible. You show me one more girl in her league, and I'll give you a million dollars."
His eyes narrowed on me. He suddenly reminded me of a shark scenting blood in the water. "Actually, I was getting to that. I'm glad you brought it up. I need a bit more than a million, son."
I sighed heavily as he went into the expected spiel about his airline. I tried to listen, but in actuality I was focusing on the galley at the front of the cabin, catching glimpses of Bianca as she worked.
I cursed myself for the bad seating choice and studied the cabin to find a better one.
Another flight attendant passed by our seat, heading toward Bianca. It was a brunette, and Bianca towered over the shorter woman. They had a brief, friendly-looking exchange. I only caught small snippets of what they were saying.
"Sure, take one," I heard Bianca saying in breaks from Bram's long dialogue. "I only have the two up here. I'm more than stocked."
"Thanks, Bianca," the other woman said, sounding relieved. "It's always so nice when the first class galley has their shit together. Half of them hoard the carts whether they need them or not."
"No problem. I'll help you take it back," Bianca told the woman, and I caught a glimpse of her smile. It was a small smile, just a slight upturning at the corners of her mouth. It was meant to reassure because the other woman was obviously stressed out.
I tried to put my finger on why I was so affected by that little smile. It's her eyes, I thought. They got to me. They held such a mixture of kindness, tragedy, and reserve. They were soul stealing.
You didn't get eyes like that without hardship. You didn't get eyes like that without anguish. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, but that was just the surface. I was so certain there was depth there and that intrigued me.
She served us, and every time she glanced at me, a lovely blush touched her cheeks.
I was making plans to pursue her before the plane had even taken off.
Her jump seat was just out of my view as she sat down for take-off. I made a note to sit in 2D the next time I took one of her flights. I would have had an unobstructed view of her seat from there.
It was a solid hour into the flight before I was able to approach her in the galley. She was bent down, stacking plates onto a silver, three-tiered cart.
"Do you really need to take a cart out for just the two of us?" I asked from behind her.
She visibly started, turning and standing to stare at me, gifting me with that becoming blush. "Mr. Cavendish," she said, looking stunned.
I smiled. "Bianca. Do you really need that cart for just the two of us?" I asked again.
She gave me a small but gratifying smile. "I tend to try to follow service procedures precisely when I'm serving the CEO of the airline."
I loved the sound of her voice. It was soft but steady. And I adored that little smile. "What's your usual route? Is Las Vegas to New York the normal routine?"
She looked a little surprised by the question, but she answered quickly enough. "Yes, it is, actually. Layovers in New York, and turns to DC."
"Turns?" I asked her, unfamiliar with the term.
She bit her lip. "Sorry," she said. "Airline lingo. A turn is when we fly somewhere, then turn around and fly back the same day."
"What days do you usually go to New York?" I asked her, studying her face steadily.
She opened her mouth, so close to answering, when fucking Bram interrupted, shouting my name, and distracting her.
"Excuse me, Mr. Cavendish, I have to get back to work. Did you need something?"
You. Under me. For fucking days.
I gave her a neutral smile. "I'm fine. I guess I'll leave you to it."
She nodded. "Please ring your call button if you need anything at all."
You. Spread out, restrained, open, helpless before me, purposed absolutely for my use.
She turned away before she could see my nostrils flare, eyes and mind gone wild.
I didn't get another opportunity to approach her. Bram kept me occupied for the rest of the flight. I listened, feeling an obligation to at least hear him out for my father's sake, but I was ready to throttle him as the plane began to descend, and I hadn't been able to approach her again.
"You know I can't give you that kind of funding if you don't give me some control over the airline," I told him for at least the tenth time.
He smiled at me. It was a con man's smile. I wasn't impressed. "You know you can trust me to keep this ship afloat by doing things my way," he said.
I didn't know that. What I did know was that if he kept running things 'his way,' the airline would be bankrupt in a hurry, and grounded soon after that. I couldn't invest in it, not even for the sake of nostalgic childhood memories. The man ran his company like it was a game, throwing money around like he was getting his gambling fix. If he wouldn't give up control, I would just be prolonging the inevitable, burning pointlessly through millions in the process.
"Will the flight crew be staying in New York?" I asked him, changing the subject. I was sick of talking in circles.
"No. They all turn around and go back to Las Vegas. Why?"
I shrugged. "Just curious." I'd considered getting Bianca's number from him, or even her schedule, but I knew he wouldn't cooperate. He'd just see it as something he could use as leverage. I'd find another way.
I didn't even get a moment alone with her as we deplaned, though I tried. Fucking Bram lingered, though, so I just nodded at her. "A pleasure, Bianca," I told her on my way out, my mind coming up with the numerous ways that I planned to pleasure her in the very near future.
It was a graphic visual.
"A pleasure, Mr. Cavendish," she repeated back politely.
Not yet, I thought, but it will be.
I parted ways with Bram as soon as I could, striding swiftly towards where I knew Clark would have a car waiting at the curb.
I nodded at him as I slid into the backseat.
"To the hotel?" he asked with a raised brow.
"To the apartment," I said. I could tell he was surprised by that answer. I rarely quit working this early in the day. I knew it was useless to even try to work just then, though. I couldn't concentrate on a damn thing. My mind was stuck on that woman . . .
Clark began to drive, but he kept shooting me questioning looks in the rearview. "You meeting a woman, sir?" he asked.
It was a nosy question, but I was used to it. The man was so good at his job, and had been working for me for so long, that he'd gone beyond the role of employee to that of a friend, and we both knew he could say whatever he wanted and I wouldn't be offended. "No, Clark."
"Maybe you should. You look like you could use one."
I shot him a sardonic look. It was disconcerting how well he could read me. "No, but I need you to find one for me, actually. Her name is Bianca."
"No last name?" he asked without missing a beat. It wasn't as though I asked him to find women for me often. He was just an unflappable kind of guy.
"No. She's a flight attendant, and her name is Bianca. That's all I know."
"Walker's airline?"
"Yes."
"Physical description."
"Tall, blonde . . . beautiful. She looks like a model. I need her schedule ASAP. I could also use a number, address, anything you can get your hands on, really."
He sighed. "I'll see what I can do. It'll be a pain in my ass."
"I'll be eternally grateful."
"I know."
I felt a little lost when I walked into my apartment. I'd taken the afternoon off. But to do what? If I weren't acting like a besotted fool over a stranger, I'd have called one of the five women I knew that were in the city who could cater to my specific needs. I had no desire to, though, and that was the problem.
I felt dazed as I walked directly to the master bathroom, stripped down, and got into the shower. I didn't use cold water, but steaming hot. I closed my eyes and leaned against the tiled wall, picturing those devouring blue eyes of hers again. They'd been steady, but so submissive, as though she knew just what I needed from her.
Needed, I thought. Yes, that was the word.
I soaped my hand, stroked my throbbing cock and remembered how she'd blushed for me, and her little smile, and of course, those mesmerizing eyes.
Fuck, I thought in shock, coming in a few short strokes. And worse, that release wasn't enough. I was jerking myself off again within a few short moments. I felt like a teenager again, jacking myself off repeatedly in the shower.
I didn't even consider finding a woman to ease myself with. That was the worst of it. I knew I would find more satisfaction just thinking about her, than actually having another woman.
Bianca was trouble for me, I knew it, and still, I didn't give a fuck. I was going to have her.
I brought myself to another orgasm, gripping my length tightly, then began stroking again before I'd even finished, in danger of rubbing my own cock raw, thinking about a woman that I'd never even seen naked.
I thought about her body that time, about that neat little dress suit covering delectably round breasts, slender hips, and the best pair of legs I'd ever seen. I stroked my cock harder.
I remembered the delicate wrist I'd studied as she'd served me. I pictured tying those wrists to my bed as I jerked hard on my aching cock and came again with a rough groan.
It was early, but that didn't stop me from drying off and going straight to bed. I dreamed that night about silky blonde hair and pale blue eyes that I could lose myself in.
I'd only met her once. Why did it feel like I'd wanted her forever?