Do you see that guy sitting next to a woman with the wildest blond hair you’ve probably ever seen? The hot one. Do you see her now?
Well fuck, she’s the only woman in first class, isn’t she?
Whatever. Look over at me now, beside her. I’m slouched toward the window, sunglasses on, earbuds in, ignoring the world around me. Do you think I feel bad about telling her to stop talking?
I do. Maybe I shouldn’t have been mean. But then again, I wasn’t that mean, was I? I’ve certainly been worse. I certainly don’t want to be a dick to her. We will be spending a lot of time together, and the last thing I want is to have her hate me.
About the time I’m going to apologize, or at least talk to her, the only male flight attendant I’ve seen in probably a year approaches us. More importantly, Scarlet.
He leans down to her. “Coffee, tea, or me?”
Is he for fucking real? You’re thinking that, aren’t you?
Beside me, Scarlet snorts, but giggles. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know, but I got your attention.” He offers a smirk now.
His name is Jonathan. His nametag says so. I wonder how Jonathan feels about a broken jaw? Or maybe a fat lip. I bet I can reach across Scarlet and pop him in the mouth before he even blinks next.
Scarlet giggles again, but seems somewhat caught off guard by Jonathan’s flirting. “Oh, uh—”
Obviously that’s not the right answer, so I answer on her behalf. “No thanks. She doesn’t need anything. Go away.”
Jonathan’s eyes slide in my direction. He clearly has no idea who I am. “I was talking to her.”
Lifting my shades, I glare at him. “Am I not sitting here? How do you know we’re not together?”
“Are you?” he challenges.
Christ, he’s really trying to piss me off, isn’t he?
To my complete surprise, Scarlet waves her hand at me, as if to silently tell me to shut up. “No, we’re not together. I work for him.”
Jonathan doesn’t look at her; instead, he’s focused on me. Let’s just point out, he’s too old for her. I don’t know how old Scarlet is, but this guy’s temples are graying. He’s too old. “Well if you’re not with her, then why can’t I?”
I lean forward, smiling darkly and place my hand on Scarlet’s thigh, my stare intent of Jonathan. “Maybe I’m one of those psychotic motherfuckers who think if I can’t have her, no one can?”
Jonathan tightens his jaw, about the same time Scarlet’s thigh tenses, and he glares at me. You know what, fuck this prick.
I raise my eyebrows. “Why are you still standing here?”
“Excuse me?”
I tighten my hand on Scarlet’s thigh and flick my hand at him. “Walk away.”
Guess who walks away?
Jonathan.
Remarkably enough, Scarlet doesn’t think it’s funny when he walks away. “Don’t be a dick.”
I exhale, lifting my brow and looking sideways at her. “I wasn’t.” I shrug, my own dick twitching at the sight of her angry with me. It’s a fucking turn on for sure. I make a mental note to piss her off again. “You’re my personal assistant.” Do you like the way I emphasize my? “You’re certainly not going to be fucking other guys when you have a job to do, are you?”
Her cheeks flush, but it’s the only giveaway that I’ve gotten to her. She scrunches her face in the most adorable way, blond curls wildly flopping in her face. She stares at me, both disgusted and perplexed. “There’s nothing in my contract that says I can’t have a sex life.”
Her indifference to me has me disarmed and annoyed. Most women are helpless to my advances but this girl, nope. Not one bit.
My pulse quickens and blood rushes to my swollen cock. As soon as the word sex falls from her lips, my cock begs me to grab her head and shove her mouth between my legs. But I don’t. For now, at least. There are still four hours left on the flight, though, so you never really know. “I was actually thirsty.”
I shrug, smiling, and remove my hand from her thigh. “Call him back over here. I’ll order you some more wine. Or. . . you could suck on your shirt. Pretty sure there’s enough on you to equal another glass.”
Glancing down at her shirt that’s now dry, her eyes slowly glide back up to mine. “Why’d you do that?”
“He’s being disrespectful,” I point out. “If anyone is going to fuck you in the bathroom, it’ll be me.”
“You’re pretty confident there, buddy.” She snorts, rolling her eyes. “But it’s not happening.”
Did I hear that correctly? Did she honestly shoot down the idea of me and her in the bathroom? “What? Are you actually saying you wouldn’t meet me in the bathroom if I asked? And just so we’re clear, I didn’t. I only suggested it.”
I’m offered a glare. The hottest glare I’ve actually ever seen. The way her beautiful blue eyes squint, the way her lips thin out into an unamused line. . . all a fucking turn on. “I’m saying no, if you, you know, hypothetically asked.”
Tiller and Roan laugh behind us, but I’m too shocked to tell them to fuck off.
I stare at Scarlet. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She’s going to give into me eventually.
How can she not?
Men like a challenge. Even me. Fuck, especially me. I’m impulsive by nature, and when I want to do something, or someone in this case, I tend to act on it right away.
How do you think I’m going to act now?
I can certainly be a needy bastard with a personal assistant, can’t I? There are a lot of things I do for myself that in reality, someone of my status can easily push off to an assistant, right?
The longer I’m staring at her, the more I realize I’ve seen her before. The curls at least. But then again, I’ve been staying at the hotel for years, so I probably saw her at some point while in town.
I don’t give much thought to it.
“Why are you staring at me?” Her eyes flicker up, meeting mine.
“No reason.” I smirk arrogantly and tilt my head to one side. She looks. . . familiar, doesn’t she?
I know her. At least I think I do, but I can’t place from where. Maybe I saw her at the hotel a time or two. I study her again, scrutinizing her with renewed interest. She’s beautiful, that’s for sure, but it’s her serious face that draws my attention to her pink lips and the tongue ring I know she has.
It’s really fucking annoying that she’s not responding to my efforts to gain her attention.
My pride? Taking a fucking beating here. It’s not every day a woman ignores my flirting.
This woman makes me feel uncomfortable and exposed. I hate it.