Aaron
It dawns on me.
This must be how the fucking fat man in the red suit must feel like every year.
I’ve watched Chloe’s face ever since I’ve picked her up in my limo. I mean, of course I used my fucking limo. If you want to use a car, use one that stands out.
Standing out from the crowd is what I do as the owner of Thebadboys.net. It is what Ms. Winters has done online for the last few months too. Ms. Winters knows how to stand out.
If you stand out, you succeed. If you blend in, you’re at risk of getting lost in the crowd. Ordinary is highly overrated, and ordinary does not spell success.
I can feel the excitement oozing from Chloe, and if the trip to the airport was a little bit longer, I know what I would do with her.
It’s so tempting to grab her gorgeous body and throw her over my knees to give her a fucking fantastic spanking before fucking her.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“I’m imagining all the fun we’ll be having in Reykjavik.” It’s not exactly a lie. The spanking can wait till we get there, or maybe not. There’s always the plane trip.
Chloe leans into me, kitten-like. She’s even purring. Her tight top stretches across her tits.
“Thanks for coming, and thanks for picking me up in a limo.”
This girl is so fucking genuine it hurts. I can tell she’s not used to being treated like a queen, and yet she should be.
The limo stops, and Jacque, my driver, opens the door. I poke my head out the door and do a quick check. All going according to plan.
“Thank you, Jacque.” I smile at him. “I’ll call you when I return.”
His face stays totally impassive, and that’s what I like most about Jacque. He’s discretion and silence personified. Any of my secrets he knows, he will take to his grave.
“Enjoy your trip, sir,” he says and slams the door shut.
Chloe is about to grab her case when one of my staff reaches us and relieves her of this mundane task.
This weekend, I plan to totally spoil my girl.
My insides squirm. Had I really just thought of her in terms of my girl?
I shake my head. There was something wrong with me. First, she wasn’t my girl, and if I thought of her in possessive terms, surely I could do better than that.
“What the—” She leaves the sentence unfinished, and I catch her eye.
“I thought—” she stammers, but I cut her off with a kiss to the nose.
“A pretty face like you should not do too much thinking.”
She punches me in the arm.
“Hey, Mr. Sexist, newsflash: we are in the twenty-first century. We’ve left the Dark Ages behind. Women do think for themselves.”
I pull a face at her as I link arms.
“Next you’ll be telling me they let women vote now too?”
Chloe laughs.
I love the way she laughs. It sounds a little like bells ringing.
“They have ages ago.”
In mock horror, I pull away from her.
“No fucking way. When did that happen?”
This comment earns me another punch to my upper arm.
“Ages ago. I told you the Dark Ages are long gone.”
I take her arm again. “I don’t know what the world is coming to. I mean, what was wrong with the traditional role of the woman? I love to see a woman barefoot and, you know, naked in the kitchen.”
We are standing at the foot of the stairs to my jet.
“After you, dear madam.” I love how she’s looking at me all puppy-eyed. “Or is chivalry totally prohibited these days?”
Chloe shakes her head.
I can tell she’s overwhelmed.
“No, chivalry is nice from time to time.”
“Good.” I take a little bow. “Up the stairs you go, my fair maiden.”
Giggling, she leads the way.
Of course I have an ulterior motive for letting her go up before me. I’m not just being a gentleman. I want to feast on her fucking hot ass.
My eyes nearly melt at the sight of that delicious ass wiggling its way up the stairs. By the time she’s halfway up, I catch a bit of a glimpse of her thong as her skirt has ridden up.
In my pants, my cock’s coming to life.
Quickly I hurry after her.
When she steps inside, I hear her squeal in delight. She claps her hands. And when she turns to face me, I see her eyes glowing with pleasure.
“Welcome to my den.”
She laughs.
“You own a private jet?”
There is obvious disbelief in her voice.
I nod.
Her index finger taps against my chest.
“Mr. Bennet, I think we will have to have a serious discussion about what you do for a living. A writer you ain’t.”
My heart beats a little faster. I don’t want to lie to her. I want to fucking impress her.
For a microsecond, I toy with telling her about my business—about owning Thebadboys.net.
“I’m in business,” I say instead. “I own a small company.”
Sometimes it’s all in the how you say it.
I’m not lying to her. I’m just not telling her exactly what I do…yet. In time I might.
“Mr. Bennet, if you could please be seated so we can get ready for takeoff?” the flight attendant says as she comes up behind me.
“Let me show you to your seat, darling.”
Chloe giggles again.
I lead the way to the real part of the plane, since so far we’ve only been standing in the back part.
When the curtain is drawn back and the full extent of the luxury is revealed, Chloe sucks in her breath.
She turns to me.
“Fuck, Aaron. This is really yours?”
I nod.
She shakes her head.
Pride swells up inside of me. This is a better surprise than the library, I know.
I’ve outdone myself. I’ve set new standards in impressing Chloe.
I watch as she takes tiny steps toward the inside of the room.
She goes over to the television, then she sits on one of the leather lounges before bouncing over to one of the bed-sized recliner chairs.
Her fingers find the buttons, and I watch her recline and come back up again. She giggles.
“Aaron, this is fucking amazing.”
Her pleasure is about as much of a turn on as watching her ass wiggle up the stairs.
It occurs to me that I want to show off my toys to her. I want to impress her. And I want to possess her.
Usually, role models come to mind pretty fucking quickly. But right now I can’t think of which fictional character I want to be. Maybe I just want to be myself.
And being myself means being truthful.
I ignore the niggle in the pit of my stomach. Not telling is not lying.
As I watch her, my desire for her increases. I can’t wait to rip her fucking clothes off.
Like a girl let loose in a candy shop, she darts here, there, and everywhere. Her sheer delight is palpable.
Breathless, she comes to stand in front of me again.
Her chest is heaving. I see her nipples push through her flimsy material, and I imagine her pussy already wet and waiting.
“Aaaaaron.” She’s deliberately pulling the a as long as she can. Her index finger is now wiggling in front of my face. “There’s definitely something you’re not telling me. What business exactly are you in?”
The need to tell her the truth seems to be crushing me like a giant wave. It’s picking me up, tossing me in the fucking air, and then slamming me into the ground, squeezing every last bit of air out of me.
“Please, Mr. Bennet,” a voice interrupts us from behind. “Can you and your guest take a seat?”
I nod.
“Now, Chloe, let’s sit down.” I usher her to the reclining bed seat.
“Champagne, madam?” another one of the flight attendants has surfaced and is carrying two glasses of bubbles on a round tray.
Chloe giggles.
“Champagne at this hour?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
“Cheers.” I clink my glass against hers.
She responds.
“Now then,” I say as I put my glass down and lean into her.
She smells intoxicating. I detect rose petal and something citrus and sexual desire. “Let me tell you about the flight.”
Her puppy eyes give me their undivided attention. Her chin is cupped in her right hand.
“The flight is five hours. And we’ve got this plane all to ourselves. So plenty of time to…” I leave the last words hanging.
My right hand reaches for her loose hair and plays with it.
My thumb caresses her face, and I see her flush a little.
She’s so fucking ready.
“And what exactly did you have in mind?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper.
I frown.
“Do you want me to spell it out or…” I don’t finish the sentence and let my fingers do the talking.