Chapter 9
Ava
My feet can’t carry me out of his office fast enough. The emotions are coursing through me in a way I’ve never experienced before, and I can’t risk anyone seeing my reaction.
The second I’m safe in my car, my head drops back and I inhale deeply, taking what feels like the first breath since I first saw him. Without thinking, my hand drops between my legs as my two middle fingers press against my clit, trying to ease the desire.
The slickness is apparent even through my lace panties, and I decide to rush home to give myself the release I need. Never in my life have I felt so attracted to someone, and the fact that he’s now a client only complicates things further.
As I drive I can’t even begin to process how I can successfully coach him, when all I can imagine is how good he’ll feel inside of me. My eyes always follow his lips when he speaks, they’re so full and pink. God, I want to kiss him so bad.
“Where have you been?” Petra asks when I close the front door.
“I went through with the meeting with Logan,” I sigh, trying my best to sound dejected and annoyed.
“Really? How was it?”
“He’s just how you described – needy and demanding. He wants me to clear my schedule to focus on his needs. Oh, and he wants me to go to Europe with him next week,” I roll my eyes before heading up the stairs.
“Did you discuss the rate?” She asks with excitement in her voice.
“He said to bill him whatever,” I shrug, continuing up the stairs.
“He’s such a douche. Was he an asshole?” She yells up, and I pause, turning to face her.
“No, not really. He’s actually pretty nice from what I saw.” I contort my face, realizing that was the one characteristic she was so adamant about, but he didn’t embody it at all.
“Oh, he’s still playing nice,” she scoffs, turning to walk away as I head up to my room.
After a long bath, I settle into bed, calling it an early night after such an exhausting day. I’ve barely pulled the covers over my body, when my hand drops between my legs again, but this time there’s nothing stopping me.
My eyes shut as I replay my meeting with Logan, pausing my memory whenever he smiles or bites his bottom lip. Tracing my lips with the soft touch of my fingertip, my body comes alive as I imagine Logan touching me instead.
When I finally slide one finger into myself, I’m wet, and a small moan escapes me.
Logan, his name is a prayer, not more than a soft whisper as my finger slides in and out so slow, curling to press against my outer wall ever so gently.
My pussy creams thinking of him, until I want more. Sliding a second finger into my slickness, I press the palm of my hand against my clit, stimulating myself further.
This is more intense, and the next time I say his name, it’s more moan than whisper, my body climbing an imaginary wall of pleasure as my vivid memories of his smell and his touch, race through my mind.
Rolling onto my belly, my hand begins to work faster, chasing my release, as my pelvis thrusts forward for more pressure. I can feel the orgasm covering me as I bite my bottom lip until the taste of my own blood reaches my tongue.
Panting quickly, I slide my cream-coated fingers from my sex, as my chest heaves.
I sleep deeply for the first time in a week.
* * *
“Are you excited?” Logan asks.
The captain has just announced we are cleared for takeoff as we set out on our first trip together. It’s been years since I visited Europe as a college freshman, but even then, I was never able to make it to Istanbul, where Logan is currently closing a huge deal.
“Of course! I’ve never been on a private plane,” I reveal, looking around at the modern décor on the twenty-passenger plane, which seems rather large, but Logan travels with an entourage.
“They’re mainly security,” he explains, following my eyes as I take in the large men in black suits.
“You always travel with this much security?”
“Can never be too safe,” he smirks before signaling to the red-headed flight attendant, who walks to the front of the jet before returning with a bottle of Champagne and two flutes.
“A toast,” Logan suggests, after filling each of our glasses. “To a fun adventure.”
“And a lot of work,” I remind him with a subtle eyebrow raise.
Logan has been talking about this trip like it’s some sort of vacation since his initial request. I’ve done everything I can to make it clear that this is only professional, but I can’t be sure he understands or respects that.
Before I left, Petra stressed how he probably doesn’t understand boundaries because he’s always had everything handed to him, never having to hear the word ‘no’ before.
I hate to admit it, but I think she’s right, because nothing about his behavior makes me feel as though he’s taking any of this seriously. As the bubbles of Champagne tickle my tongue, I look over at his perfectly structured face, watching him smile as he looks out of the window while we ascend into the sky. It’s the first look of joy I’ve witnessed cross his face.
“Ava… Ava, wake up,” I hear his voice, but it’s so far away, echoing in my mind as my vision comes into focus. When I finally open my eyes, he’s standing above me, a smile creeping across his face when our gazes meet.
“We’re here,” he says.
Looking around, I feel a bit fuzzy, probably from the three glasses of Champagne I drank before falling asleep.
The ride to the hotel is long, but my eyes are wide with excitement as the city passes us by. The closer we get to the city center, the heavier traffic becomes, reminding me of home.
“They’ve got nothing on LA traffic,” Logan whispers, his warm, minty breath tickling my shoulder.
Being in a new city is overwhelmingly exhilarating for me, and I feel a deep sense of gratefulness for Logan, because he is the sole reason I’m here.
Our eyes are locked in silence as the illuminated city shines through the tinted windows, and neither of us seem interested in ending the staredown, so we don’t. Instead, we stay in that space of an emotional embrace until interrupted by the driver.
“Shall I go around back, sir?” he asks.
“No, the front should be fine,” Logan answers without turning to face him, but I pull away, choosing to look out the window instead.
While I expected nothing less, the hotel suite is completely over the top of luxury. Logan has booked both presidential suites, one for the security team, and the other for the two of us, which scared me at first.
I thought he might try something, putting us so close together, but it’s nothing like any hotel room I’ve ever stayed in. With two huge private bedrooms, each with its own en suite in addition to a common living room, dining area and small kitchen, it feels more like an apartment than a hotel.
Exhausted from the travel, it takes me more than a day to recover from the jetlag, sleeping on and off for our first thirty-six hours in Istanbul, while Logan travels from one meeting to the next.
Waking up on our second morning in the city, I’m determined to go out and explore while Logan is away.
“Look who’s up. You’re not sick, are you?” Logan asks when I join him at the large dining table for breakfast.
“No. I think it was just the distance.”
“Okay, good. I was worried, but I hoped it was just a bout of jetlag,” he says casually, but I can’t help but focus on the fact that he was thinking about me.
“I’m going out exploring today.”
“I’m sure you’ll have a great time. There’s a driver and a security detail for you,” he says before returning his attention to the newspaper.
After a quick breakfast, he excuses himself to begin his busy schedule, and I set off to prepare for my day in the city.
“Do you have an idea how long we’ll be out today?” asks Rodrick, one of Logan’s security guards, just as I’m leaving the dining room.
“We?”
“Yes, Mr. Draper asked me to accompany you on your day,” he looks at me, as if I should already know about this plan.
“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary, but I do appreciate your offer,” I assure him before returning to my bedroom to get ready, shaking my head.
Dressed in a short white dress, I grab my cute pink crossbody purse and head into the living room, where Rodrick is nervously pacing.
“Ms. Batcher,” he begins, his cheeks flush.
“What’s the matter?”
He always looks so in control, but now he seems to be freaking out.
“Mr. Draper would at least like you to take these things with you,” he announces, holding his hand out as he extends a manila envelope to me.
“Okay,” I agree slowly, taking the envelope.
“My number as well as Mr. Draper’s are already programmed in the phone.” Rodrick says before leaving me to pry open the envelope on my own.
There is a cell phone, as Rodrick said, as well as a list of numbers – Rodrick, Logan, a driver and the hotel. Then there’s a smaller envelope, and my mouth drops when I see its contents. Logan has left me four thousand Turkish lire, just over eleven hundred dollars.
My thoughts collide with one another as I head to the lobby of the hotel, considering the possibilities of his intentions. Sometimes, like at breakfast today, I feel like he’s accepted what we are and what we are not. Everything feels professional, and I think there could be a chance for us to actually work together. Then he goes and does something like this that make me feel both desired and cheap, a combination I’ve never experienced. First, it was the thousand dollars in my clutch purse, now this?
Walking through the neighborhood surrounding our luxury hotel, my heart begins to flutter taking in the chaos of a new city. The further away I get, the livelier the neighborhood becomes, with women yelling from one stand to the next, selling headbands made of fresh flowers.
The men are making sandwiches after shaving a large piece of vertically roasting meat, which they wrap into a pita with lettuce, tomato and sauce. After sitting and watching them make what they call doners for a line of hungry teenagers, I decide to try one myself.
Continuing to walk, this time with my sandwich, I can’t believe how delicious it is.
After a while, I pass the buzzing center, where a major train station leads to a large crowd, followed by several quiet cobblestone alleys, and I decide to take the third one I come across.
The first window I pass is a clothing store, and the lace lavender dress in the front window is enough to make me “aww” in appreciation. Next, there’s a bustling restaurant with booths all over the dining area, filled with people laughing and eating together.
In the center of the restaurant is a buffet, with large aluminum pans of food, lined up behind a thick glass shield. The smells are alluring enough to bring me inside, and when the bell rings on the door behind me I feel everyone in the restaurant look up at me with interest.
“Welcome!” A man calls from the back, and the other diners either smile, laugh or return to their dinner. A silent sigh of relief allows me to relax a little, as a little girl comes over to walk me through the different dishes.
When it’s all said and done, I’ve gotten a plate with baked chicken, white rice, a beef stew and a spinach and tomato dish. Just as I’m checking out, I spot the dessert area, and add a small cup of rice pudding to my tray, to the delight of my young guide, who looks to only be about twelve years old, but her English is quite impressive.
Sitting at a booth with another family, who happily moved over to make room for me, I enjoy one of the best meal I’ve had in years. The stew is rich, the beef tender. And the rice pudding is my favorite – sprinkled with a bit of cinnamon on the top.
After finishing, and thanking everyone for their hospitality, as best I can without speaking their language, I head back out onto the cobblestone streets. Using the display windows, and memorable stands, I easily retrace my steps to the town center before crossing over to the quiet neighborhood housing our hotel.
Rodrick is waiting for me in the lobby, and I can sense his relief to see me. He decides to remain waiting in the lobby for Logan’s return, and so I go up to the suite alone.
In the shower, I go over my day and I have feelings of gratitude and exhilaration – a combination I only ever feel when experiencing something new and foreign.
As I wash my hair, I come to the conclusion that there is no reason to be upset with Logan. While he misses the mark on timing and presentation, I can’t begin to believe he meant any harm by his gesture with the money.
Instead, I decide to surprise him with a different form of travel than he’s used to. How he’ll take my gesture is still to be determined, but I’m certainly going to give it a shot.
After a quick conversation with Petra, updating her on the trip and my time exploring without mentioning the thousand-dollar stipend Logan left me, I lie in bed, flicking through the channels before landing on an English station.
An episode of CSI: Miami is playing, and I drift to sleep thinking of how amazing a time I had in the city, trying new foods and meeting such nice people.
Again, I’m awash with gratitude for Logan, because he’s brought me along on such an incredible adventure, although we’ve barely gotten any work done since we arrived in the city.
Eventually, I’m woken up to the sound of the front door opening, and I debate whether to go and greet Logan coming home from a long day of meetings. He could be tired, and not interested in hearing about my day, which to him is probably less than entertaining.
So, instead, I drift back to sleep, but now he’s in my dreams.