Then I proceed to use my hands to scoop the frosting off his chest as best I can.
“Miss Shaw…” His voice is low.
“I’ll have it sorted in just a moment.” I continue to wipe. It’s a mess. A complete—
“Miss Shaw!” He grips my wrists. “You can stop. The shirt is ruined.” He lets me go.
“Oh, heck! It is, isn’t it?” It’s sticking to his chest. His amazing, muscled, godlike chest. I look up into the storm clouds that used to be his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new one. And a new tie.” I wince. “It’s ruined as well.” There are smears of brown, green and pink on that too.
“You don’t earn enough to replace these,” he grumbles.
The crazy thing is that I believe him. “I’ll pay it off. That is, if I still have a job.”
He rolls his eyes. He somehow looks handsome doing it. How, I don’t know. “Forget the shirt and the tie. You warned me that you were clumsy…I guess I didn’t think you’d be this bad.” He throws me a half-smile. “The restroom is through there. Clean up and then meet me in my office. Bring a notepad and a pen. You’ll find those in the second drawer on the right. My final piece of advice is not to come anywhere near me when you have food or drink in your hands.”
“Noted,” I say to his retreating back.
“Double-time, Miss Shaw,” he adds as he walks into his office.
I run to the restroom. I wash my hands in ten seconds flat and forgo drying them. I flap them wildly as I make my way to the desk, hoping no one sees me because I think I must look like a lunatic. I grab the notepad and pen and race to his office. I almost swallow my tongue when I get inside.
I’m met with the sight of skin because he has no shirt on. None. His torso is bare. Make that, his muscular…oh my lord help me…torso is bare. His belt is undone too. I promptly drop the notepad and the pen. “Frack!” I push out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you…” I mumble while I pick up the pad and pen. I’m so busy ogling him that I have to feel my way around the floor to find them. “I didn’t realize you were in a state of undress. That—”
“We don’t have much time, Miss Shaw.” He turns around. Oh, heaven help me! His chest. It’s a thing of sheer beauty. Muscles galore, and…yes…I was right…a tattoo. It’s a lightning bolt…Bolt…is there a reference there? Must be.
I’ve just managed to pick up the notepad, and I drop it again. “Drat it!” I say. “I wasn’t expecting you to…” I stop talking.
“You weren’t expecting me to change after you ruined my shirt and tie?”
I shake my head. I force my eyes off him and pick up the notepad. Then I force my eyes onto the paper before he fires me. I would fire me. Why am I still here?
I hear him chuckle. It’s deep and throaty. So soft, I can only just hear him. It’s sexy as hell. Of course, it is.
“Are you alright, Miss Shaw?”
“I’m fine! All good. Great, actually.” I clear my throat. “How are you, Mr. Bolt?” I look up, and it’s a mistake. I sigh.
His mouth twitches. “I’ll live, and I told you, it’s Bolt. You can drop the ‘mister’ bullshit.”
I nod.
“Next time you want to smear me with frosting…make sure my shirt is off first.”
I almost drop my notepad again. I know, I’m pathetic. I can’t believe he just said that. What do I say back? I’m at a loss!
“I’m joking, Miss Shaw.”
“Oh.” I laugh. It sounds a little hysterical. “Of course, you are. I knew that.”
Then he shrugs into a crisp, new shirt, and I can breathe again…sort of. “You ready?” he asks.
“For what?”
I get a mouth twitch. “To take notes. I need you to type up a meeting agenda when we’re in the air.” He must see my face because he adds. “It’s a two-and-a-half-hour flight. The agenda is concise. I think you’ll be fine.”
“I’m slow, but I can type. I’m ready.” My pen is poised. I only hope I don’t die of a heart attack before take-off.
10
Bolt
I watch as her hands curl around the armrests, holding tightly. Her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath as the jet picks up speed. The buttons on her jacket strain. I’m almost hoping they pop off just so she’ll have to change out of that godawful suit. Yes, I’m a snob. I like the finer things in life. I have a feeling Miss Shaw doesn’t know much about many of those things. It’s not her fault. I might have to show her, educate her. I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy doing it. She bites down on her bottom lip. This woman has no idea what a fucking knock-out she is. That’s sexy in itself. I still can’t get over how much she looks like Gabby. They could be sisters…twins for that matter. It’s eerie.
I steal another look at her face. Her eyes are on the view outside. I can see a little fear and a whole lot of awe. She makes this little noise of exhilaration as we become airborne. It shoots straight to my cock as dirty thoughts flood my mind. I’m an asshole. She’s been honest with me. It almost killed her that she lied. Her face today when I told her she was stretching the truth… Miss Shaw is a colossal nerd. I need to get her to loosen up a whole hell of a lot.
She gasps as we do a circle over the city. From here, you can see the whole coastline in the distance. It is pretty spectacular. I fucking love her excitement at every little thing. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have my head buried in my work during take-off. It’s like seeing it all again for the first time. Why is it that I stopped looking?
It doesn’t take long to reach cruising altitude. The seatbelt signs turn off with a ‘ding’. The cabin attendant is at my side in a few seconds. “Hot towel?” she asks me, holding out a tray.
“No, thanks.” I shake my head.
“Hot towel?” she asks Miss Shaw.
“Oh…yes, thanks.” She takes one, wipes her hands and puts it back on the tray.
The cabin attendant turns back my way, she smiles as soon as our eyes meet. “What can I get for you to drink today, Bolt?” She leans forward a little, her bright green eyes on me. Her strawberry-blonde hair is tied back in a neat braid down her back.
I look over at my PA. “What do you say, Miss Shaw, shall we celebrate your appointment with a glass of champagne?”
She’s just unzipping her laptop bag. She stops what she’s doing, and her eyes lock with mine. I can see that she’s shocked at my suggestion. “Um…I have to type that agenda. We’re still,” she glances at her watch, “on the clock.”
“I happen to be the boss, Miss Shaw…I don’t think one little glass will hurt. I give my permission.”
She still looks completely shell-shocked at my suggestion. How I’m going to enjoy watching her unravel. She smiles. “I type with two fingers,” she holds them up, “remember? I need to get going, and I need all my wits about me. I appreciate the offer.” So damned polite.
“Fair enough.”
“Shall I get you your usual?” the cabin attendant asks, her perfectly plucked brows are raised.
“Sounds good.” I take out my laptop and look up when I realize she’s still there.
“Right away, sir.” She winks at me. I’m not sure why she keeps trying, I ignore her attempts every time. “And for you?” she asks my PA, her body language changing as soon as she turns. She’s not rude, she just isn’t her flirty self.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Miss Shaw says. “I have a water in my bag.” Probably safer that she doesn’t have any open beverages anywhere near her. I bite back a smile. She continues to unzip the bag and pulls out her laptop. “Wow! This is nice,” I hear her mumble to herself.
The cabin attendant heads to the galley to fetch my drink. I log into my own computer and start working through my endless emails. A job I’ll pass on to my new PA soon. For now, I think she’s already in over her head.
“Here you go,” Miss Strawberry-Blonde says, opening up the table next to me. She puts my drink down on a small napkin. “A double of your favorite Irish whiskey with one block of ice,
just the way you like it,” she purrs. “For lunch, I can offer confit pork belly with pomme liyanaise and apple purée, or turbot and morels with peas and a vin jaune sauce. I have numerous snack options if you’re not feeling hungry.”
“I’ll have the turbot. Don’t overheat my meal.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Bolt.” She winks at me again, and I have to hold back a scowl.
Then she turns to Miss Shaw. “And for you, ma’am?”
“Um…what were the options again?” She’s frowning hard.
“Confit pork belly with pomme liyanaise and apple purée, or turbot and morels with peas and a vin jaune sauce. I would be happy to put together a salad, if you would prefer. I can make you a charred citrus salad or a Cajun chicken option with a basil vinaigrette.”
“That all sounds amazing.” She’s still frowning. “So, the first option is pork belly, is that right? I must say I’m not familiar with all of those terms. Pastry and desserts are my forte.”
The cabin attendant sighs. It’s soft and almost indiscernible, but I hear it. She’s judging and has no right.
“It’s essentially pork belly with potatoes and apple sauce,” I step in, “or fish with mushrooms and a frothy white sauce. Both are good.”
Miss Shaw breaks out in a smile. I can see she’s relieved I spoke up.
I make a face. “I’m not sure I can recommend the charred citrus salad. Sounds fucking awful, if you ask me.”
She laughs. “I won’t have either of the salad options. I think I’ll try the pork belly.”
“I must warn you,” the cabin attendant says, sounding slightly disapproving, “the pork is quite heavy for this time of day.” So fucking condescending. It bugs me.
“Um…I’m fine with that. I’ll have the pork.” Miss Shaw holds the cabin attendant’s gaze until she nods in acceptance. Then she looks back down at her laptop. Her notepad is open, and she has her two fingers on the ready.
Miss Strawberry Locks stands there for a moment or two. I think she must realize she’s being dismissed by both of us because she finally leaves. Miss Shaw can sometimes lack confidence, but when it really counts, she knows how to stand up for herself without being nasty. I admire that. I also think it’s great she’s having an actual meal instead of salad leaves. It’s refreshing. Normally women I ‘date’ live on a diet of salad and champagne. I need to remind myself that Miss Shaw and I won’t be dating…that’s not how this arrangement is going to work.
I push out a breath and get back to my emails. I need to get this done so that I can prepare for my meeting with the B&H board members tomorrow morning. Tonight, we’re having dinner to show my appreciation for work carried out thus far, but also as a means to get to know my newest exec team in a casual setting. It would be wrong to assume that the leaders of B&H are all the right people for the job. I’ll never pull the business out of the toilet if there is rot from the top down. Some of the biggest problems I’ve encountered are with the upper management.
I look over at Miss Shaw every so often. She’s entirely focused on what she’s doing. Her two fingers flying over the keys… Okay, maybe flying is a little bit of an exaggeration. Still, she’s doing fine. Every so often, she grabs that plump lower lip between her teeth. A few minutes later, she unbuttons the jacket, shrugging out of the garment.
Her blouse is gaudy. Lilac with the overly shiny look of fake silk. It’s probably a size too big. It does nothing to hide the plump swell of her breasts. Fuck me! I’m salivating. My heart is beating faster…going pitter-fucking-pat. That my cock is taking note is one thing, but my heart doesn’t do shit like this. I fucking hate that harpy as much as I yearn for her. Right now, I want Miss Shaw on all fours. I want to tear that godawful outfit right off her body and pound into her until she screams my name. I’ll bet cold hard cash that no one has made her scream before. I pull my gaze away and shift in my seat, my hard-on uncomfortable against my zipper. I gulp down a big sip of whiskey and will my body to calm the fuck down.
Then I fire off an email to my lawyer to see where he’s at with changes to that NDA contract we discussed before take-off. I know I haven’t given him much time, but I want it signed and sealed yesterday. My plan will work. It’ll serve several purposes. We’ll both walk away happy. My lawyer sends back an almost immediate reply.
Are you sure about this?
I answer him, saying that I am and tell him to get it done. I slap my laptop shut when the cabin attendant returns five minutes later.
“Here you go.” She gives me my turbot first and then places a tray in front of Miss Shaw, whose eyes go wide. I watch as she looks across to see my food. It’s definitely not the slop they serve in the commercial airlines, and I’m talking about First Class.
I unfold my crisp white napkin and place it on my lap.
“Is there anything else I can get for you, Bolt?”
“I’m good.”
“I have an unoaked chardonnay on ice.” She licks her lips, playing with the end of her braid.
I hold up my whiskey. “I’m fine.”
“Alright, if you need anything, you’ll let me know?”
I nod.
“Don’t hesitate…anything at all.” She winks at me suggestively.
I ignore her, looking back down at my meal.
I notice she doesn’t ask my PA what she would like. “Anything else for you, Miss Shaw?” I ask. My mouth twitches when I see her with a mouth full of food. Her eyes widen in panic, and she shakes her head. She’s chewing as fast as she can.
I look up at the cabin attendant and shake my head. “That will be all then.” My voice turns gruff. I break eye contact and dig into my own meal.
A minute later, Miss Shaw makes this noise of rapture. It’s deep and throaty and sends a pulse through my cock, which starts to harden up all over again. Last time I checked, I was a grown-ass man. I don’t get hard-ons at the drop of a hat. I try to ignore it. It frustrates me to no end. Makes me want to grind my teeth and pace the aisle. I pull in a deep breath instead.
I glance her way. “Enjoying your food?” I need to remind myself that none of this is her fault.
She nods, licking her lips, which are glistening with fat from the pork belly. I want to lick those lips. All out suck on them. That’s just for starters. There is so much I want to do to this woman.
11
Ashley
Bolt’s eyes have drifted to my mouth. He’s looking at me like…like… I’m not sure I understand this look. He’s frowning hard. His eyes are dark.
I think maybe he’s angry. He seems upset. There’s more in that look, but I can’t put my finger on it. I’m not sure why he would be upset. I must have food on my face. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious. I’m eating like this is my last supper, like an absolute pig. I put down my knife and fork. “Do I have something on my face?” I pick up my napkin and wipe.
It seems to break the spell. “You have a little…” I pull away the napkin, and he nods once. “You got it.”
“Oh, good.” Darn! First, I throw cupcakes at him. Then I can’t function when I see him shirtless, and now I’m smearing my face with food and acting like I’ve never seen the stuff before. I’m going to try to be civilized from here on out. “This is amazing.” I pick up my cutlery and point my fork at what’s left of my food.
“Good. Glad you’re enjoying it.”
“I am. How’s your fish?”
“Excellent.” He takes a sip of his drink.
“Not too dry?” I smile.
“No, it’s just right.” I must say, it looks really good. I’m blown away by the level of cooking and plating. These dishes could be in any fine-dining restaurant. Bolt cuts a piece of fish and puts it into his mouth.
I’m sure he doesn’t want to be disturbed, but it seems I’m going to finish the work he gave me before we land. I’m going to have time on my hands before the end of the flight. I must make sure he doesn’t need me for anything else. “I’m nearly done with the agenda.�
��
“Perfect. You can print me some copies this afternoon. Ten or twelve should do it. I need them for tomorrow morning’s meeting.”
Copies? Where do I make those? Will the hotel be able to help me? Come to think of it, I don’t even know where we’re going. I’ll need to try to find one of those business centers if the hotel turns out to be a little B&B. That might be a problem since it will be late afternoon or early evening when we get there. Will such a place even be open? Bolt must see the panic written all over my face because his gaze softens. He keeps telling me he’s such an asshole, but I have yet to see evidence of that. “Talk to our assigned Liaison Officer. He or she will be waiting for us when we get to the hotel. They will handle anything you need, including those copies.”
“Oh…perfect. I’ll do that as soon as we get there. I wanted to check if there was anything else you needed me to do before we land?”
“I’ll send you my electronic calendar and allow you real-time access to the system. You will be able to change and add appointments. You need to know my movements. You can take a look at that now. Then I want you to set up a meeting with Catharine from reception for when we get back the day after tomorrow.”
“That’s Saturday.” I’ve noticed that Bolt is a bit of a workaholic. Every day seems to be a workday for him.
“For Monday, then. All employee details have been uploaded onto your electronic address book, so look her up. Catharine will be able to give you a crash course in operating our telephone lines. You should probably set something up with all of the department heads, start with Human Resources. Mark will give you an organogram of our head office.”
Crumbs! He may as well be talking in French. I grab the notepad next to me and start scribbling. I’ll figure it all out later. “Catharine from reception, for Monday,” I say to myself, “and Mark from HR. Or-ga-no-gram,” I spell the word out. I’m vaguely familiar with the word, but I’m not sure exactly what it is. I’ll google it. “What else?” I look up, and he has this look of amusement on his face. “I’m sorry this is all new to me.”
Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods Book 5) Page 8