Chapter 13

Jane takes off her shoes, and curls her legs up on the wide chair. Brad hands her a blanket in case she’s feeling chilly. It seems as if they’ve known each other forever, given how comfortable they already are. She has a sweet and light laugh, one that is genuine and says she’s truly listening to him.

He asks if he can rub her feet.

“Really?” Jane asks. “I’ve never had anyone ask me that before. Do I have to take off my nylons?” she asks.

Brad doesn’t know if that’s an innocent question or an inviting one.

Brad imagines her turning around and bending over, the satin dress tightening across her ass. Then pulling her dress up just enough, without revealing too much, then pulling down her nylons slowly, lifting one leg at a time. He loves watching a woman undress. He would push up against her, grab her hips, unzip his pants, pull out his hard cock, and fuck her long and hard from behind, all the while reaching around and fingering her wet pussy, giving her the best experience she has ever known in her life. He’d show her what fun is, and make her beg for more.

“Brad? Nylons on or off?” Jane tries to get his attention.

“Oh, sorry. On is just fine,” replies Brad, knowing he doesn’t totally trust himself already, and it would be even harder if he watched her take them off.

She stretches out her leg and gives him her right foot. Placing it gently on his lap he goes to put his hands on the bottom of her foot and she immediately starts to giggle.

“Oh, so you’re ticklish, are you?” Brad jokes. “I wonder where else you’re ticklish,” he winks, hoping it won’t scare her away.

“Well, that’s original,” Jane quips.

Huh, she is a bit sassy, he thinks. He raises his eyebrow at her, then starts rubbing her feet more deeply.

Jane loves it. She’s taking it all in. Nobody has ever done this before, and her whole body relaxes at once. She pushes the chair back so she is lying down. For some reason, she feels like she can trust Brad innately and that she could even fall right to sleep without worrying. As she has that very thought, she dozes off.

Brad scans her body and wishes he could spread her legs wide open, thrusting himself toward her pussy and fucking her while she’s half asleep and half awake. He imagines she would moan and squeeze her pussy naturally, wanting more and more of his cock inside of her, letting him have whatever he wants as she surrenders to him totally.

He can see up her dress a bit. She is wearing a garter belt to hold up her stockings, and he can see the outline of the champagne and rose-laced panties he bought her. He is getting another hard on, dying to see more of her, to spread her open and see how beautiful she looks. He wants to stroke her legs and get her tingling from the inside out, turning her on until she wants him as badly as he wants her.

He wants to get her all worked up and sweaty, to the point where she has an animalistic desire to fuck him until it hurts, and coming just at the thought of him entering her. He’d lift her up to straddle him, pushing her up and down on his cock so hard and fast she would have to explode in a flood of hot wetness all over him while he stays hard the whole time. He’d keep pushing her up and down until he explodes inside of her, so much that it drips out all over the seat.

She would scream and moan, so loud that the pilot could hear how much of a man Brad Halliwell is—a good, chick-fucking lover. The pilot would know that this beautiful young thing wants him, and he can satisfy her like no one else.

Jane wakes up slightly and can feel Brad’s hand moving up her calf. She likes it, including the way it sends goosebumps up her spine, but she knows it could lead to something more, and she’s not sure if she’s ready to go there yet. She leans over, grabs Brad’s hand, and pushes it back down to her feet.

“I really like when you just massage my feet,” she says directly.

Brad nods and respects her request.

“So, Jane, how did you get involved with ballet?” Brad asks, genuinely wanting to know.

Jane doesn’t like telling the story, as it seems stupid and childish, and a man like Brad probably wouldn’t understand since it seems like he’s always been destined for success.

“First,” says Jane, “I want to know about you, like where did you grow up?”

“Arkansas City.”

“What did your parents do?”

“They owned the company I own now.”

“Are they dead?” Jane asks bluntly, then realizes that could be inappropriate. “Oops. I’m so sorry, never mind.”

“No, it’s okay. They died two years ago in a car crash.”

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry.”

Jane looks away feeling embarrassed and then goes silent.

“No, it’s okay, really. We weren’t that close. They saw me more as a business transaction,” Brad says, reassuring her by holding her hand.

“Oh, that’s weird. I’m sorry you didn’t have loving parents.”

Jane again feels like she is getting too personal, but doesn’t know what else to say.

“No, it’s true. I envy the people who have caring parents,” Brad says, looking to see if that’s the case with Jane.

“Yeah, my parents care, maybe too much sometimes. It can be suffocating,” Jane says.

“Were they the ones who got you into ballet?” Brad pries.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” asks Jane.

“Well, this trip is more than inviting you to be a beautiful woman on my arm, you know,” Brad says. “I am curious, partially to figure out if I should invest in you as a ballerina, and also whether I should continue to support the ballet company you are a part of. Let’s call it a bit of a job interview process.”

“Ah, okay. That’s fair,” replies Jane. “Like a business transaction,” Jane smirks. “What do you want to know about me?”