by Colet Abedi
I stayed at the pub until Danielle wanted to leave. Part of me was too stunned to move and the other part just needed the comfort of being surrounded by people. When Danielle asked where Michael and I had been, I told her we had gone to talk. I didn’t really want to share the intimate details with her.
So when I finally got home, I sat up in bed for the entire night in confusion.
Not yet.
His words… what happened between us, which I’m equally as responsible for, makes everything even harder.
Because now I know what it’s like.
What it’s really like to be in his arms.
And it’s everything I imagined it would be.
And more.
What I had shared with Danielle, the bits and pieces of what he had said to me leading up to the big O, had thrilled her. She said I was rocking his world, that she’d never seen him so wound up before and that she knew I’d break him soon.
Break Michael Sinclair?
Was that even possible?
It was too dangerous for my emotional well-being to even allow myself the hope.
I’m up before my alarm goes off in the morning and quickly get ready for work. For the first time, I find myself anxious to see what the day will bring. How Michael will act today after what happened between us.
After the emotional roller coaster he’s put me through I really don’t know what to expect. I know I should probably brace myself for another one of his “what happened last night was a mistake” conversations, but a part of me, a small part, has some hope. And I promise myself that if he does actually try to go there, I’ll just turn around and walk out of the damn building.
Just as I’m about to leave for the office, I get a text from the man I’m quickly becoming convinced has been put on this earth to torture me.
My insides turn to mush when I see Michael’s name flash across my phone. I’m so nervous when I read his message that it takes me a second to focus on the bizarre question.
MICHAEL: Is your passport in order?
The question throws me, but I type back quickly.
ME: Yes, it is.
I wait for him to respond and when he doesn’t, I ping him again.
ME: Why are you asking?
MICHAEL: We’ll talk about it when you get in this morning. Come and see me when you arrive. I’m already here.
He’s at the office?
I don’t reply.
I try not to obsess about why he’s asking about my passport and just grab my things and head into work. The sooner I get in, the sooner I’ll know.
Not long after, I walk into his office and find him sitting behind his desk working. After what happened last night, I don’t really know how I’m supposed to act around him.
I try not to think about his mouth on my breasts or the magic of his hands or the most incredible orgasm…
“Good morning.” Michael smiles in pleasure as he motions toward the chair in front of his desk.
“Morning.” My voice sounds stiff as I take a seat.
“How was the rest of your night?” he asks nonchalantly, his eyes giving nothing away.
For the life of me, I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Fun.”
Fun? What the hell kind of response was that, Abby?
His gaze meets mine as he smiles wickedly.
“Not that fun, I hope.”
There’s no missing the innuendo. I can feel the heat rush to my face as sinful images of our night together flood my mind.
“Why did you ask about my passport?” I quickly change the topic.
Michael leans back in his chair and laughs in amusement. My eyes narrow suspiciously.
“We’re going on a trip.”
If he told me there were pigs flying in the sky, I think I would be less shocked.
“What?”
“To Costa Rica. To my home there. I have some business I need to take care of, and I need you to come along.”
On a trip? Alone with Michael? In a country I’ve never been to and one that has been on my bucket list since the day I knew what a bucket list was.
I don’t bloody think so.
“I don’t think that would be appropriate—” I argue.
“Appropriate?” Michael’s focus settles on my lips before flicking back up to my eyes. My pulse flutters and I lick my lips uncomfortably.
“Given the circumstances—” I begin to say before he cuts me off.
“Last night, you mean?”
Lord.
I bite my bottom lip and nod uncomfortably. I can’t even look at him. And I’m pretty sure I’m about twenty-five different shades of red.
“Abby,” he murmurs my name, his voice low and seductive. “Look at me.”
I can feel the air crackle with electricity as our eyes meet.
“I know you enjoyed yourself.” His smile is wicked.
Why Lord?
Why can’t the chair just swallow me whole?
Like. Right. Now.
“Didn’t you?” he demands to know.
A spark passes between us. And there’s so much heat and sexual tension that I have to physically lean back in my chair, needing whatever space I can get.
“Abby.”
He wants to hear me say it.
He won’t let up until he has his way.
And because there’s no way I can deny how much pleasure he gave me, I give him what he wants to hear.
“I did,” I whisper.
I see the satisfied glimmer in his eyes, and I hate myself for the way it makes me feel. The high I get from knowing he wanted to please me.
That it mattered to him.
My pleasure.
“Michael,” I plead with him, using any logic I can. “I really don’t think me coming along is a good idea.”
“Why not?” His eyes flicker back down to my lips intentionally wreaking havoc on my sanity.
Because every time we’re around each other, we end up doing something you regret and I’m starting to crave more and more.
That’s why.
“You know why.” I try to keep my voice neutral.
“What do you have against pleasure?” Michael asks curiously, lifting his brow.
“Pleasure?” I have full cotton mouth because of this man.
“Pleasure, Abby.” His eyes darken in desire. “Even the word seems to make you uncomfortable.”
“We are so not having this conversation,” I mutter out loud before I can stop myself.
“But we are,” Michael says with a challenge.
“It’s completely inappropriate,” I snap out in anger. “And you know it. So stop acting like this is a normal conversation between a boss and an employee, unless this is something you’re used to…”
“Used to what?”
“Doing with your female employees,” I say with an accusatory tone.
“I have never had a relationship with any of my employees.” Michael’s voice is hard, offended. I can tell he didn’t appreciate the insinuation and I can’t deny how relieved hearing his admission makes me feel. Even though I knew from the snippets of office gossip I had heard that it was the case, it feels good to hear him actually say it.
“I can tell we’re about to go in circles here. And I’m happy to argue the point with you, but the outcome is not about to change. I’m your boss. You’re my PA. It’s a work trip and I need you to come along with me. So you will. End of story. Nothing else matters.”
End of story?
Nothing else matters?
The picture he paints sounds so innocent.
Except it’s not.
And he and I both know it.
Not yet.
Soon.
His words ring through my head and my body heats up at the thought.
This will not do.
“Michael,” I try again, hoping my voice sounds calm, logical. “I only set meetings for you here and do emails. Danielle does the rest. Honestly, what can you possibly ne
ed me for in Costa Rica?”
“Let me worry about what I need from you.”
“But—”
He lifts up his hand to silence me.
“I’ve made up my mind,” he says as his blue eyes search mine. “And nothing you say will deter me.”
Nothing?
“Have you been before?” Michael tilts his head to the side as he studies me.
“No,” I shake my head still reeling from the turn of events. “Never.”
My response seems to please him.
“Then I can’t wait to show you the country,” he says. “We leave tonight.”
“Tonight?” I ask as my world comes slowly crashing around me. “I can’t possibly—”
“You can.” His voice is firm. “And you will.”
***
Eight hours later I’m on Michael’s private plane on my way to his home in Costa Rica.
I had tried a few more times that day to argue my way out of going, but everything I said to him fell on deaf ears. None of my reasons made him budge, so I eventually gave up and tried to accept my fate.
When I let Danielle in on the turn of events, she’d been over the moon, doing a happy dance around her office at my predicament.
I wonder if planning a wedding and losing brain cells goes hand in hand. When I asked her that question, she laughed right in my face. In any case, I was beyond grateful for her helping me get out of the office early so I could go home and pack for my trip.
After letting Georgie in on the dramatic turn of events, he had promised to come by my place and help me pack for the ten-day trip. Georgie was just as excited as Danielle and made me swear that I’d at the very least text him with daily updates. He also gave me a piece of advice that I promised to take to heart.
“Just go with the flow, Abby,” Georgie said as he walked me out to the car waiting to take me to the airport.
“The flow?” I asked him.
“Oui,” Georgie said, rolling his eyes. “I want you to enjoy yourself in every way. Allow yourself the freedom, ma chère.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” I reminded him.
“Oui, it is,” Georgie agreed. “But there is nothing you can do about your situation now, is there? And besides, this is everything you ever dreamed of.”
His words gave me pause.
Because he was right.
“Don’t read into anything,” he said, pulling me in for a hug and a kiss. “Just have fun and live each moment as it comes.”
Live each moment as it comes.
Even if I wanted to do something different, Michael has ensured that I can’t. For the next ten days, I’m completely at his beck and call.
So here I am, sitting in Michael’s private plane sipping on a glass of Dom as he talks to the pilots. I’d flown privately with Dimitri a few times, but none of the planes we had been on were done in such good taste. I’ve always known Michael has a ton of money but being on his plane now is a seeing it on another level.
The man lives well.
The main cabin is done in mahogany wood, with gold trimmings and white leather chairs and sofas. A wood-lined paneled bar with a large flat screen above it faces a leather sofa and two comfortable looking chairs. There are eight other recliner seats in the back section that are spacious and inviting.
Two attractive flight attendants rush around the cabin making sure everything looks perfect and that our needs are seen to. One of them gave Michael fuck-me-hard eyes when he walked onto the plane but thankfully if he noticed, he didn’t let on.
I’ve got my eye on her now.
I let the other flight attendant top off my glass, and I try my best to keep my emotions under wraps. The flight will take around fourteen hours which means I’ll get to sleep for most of the night. Georgie gave me a sleeping pill to take, but I’m hoping the champagne will just do the trick since I don’t know how long the effects of the pill will last.
“Would you prefer steak, chicken, sea bass, or the vegetarian dish for your meal?” The flight attendant asks as she sets down a plate of cheese and crackers for me.
“The vegetarian option, please.”
She nods before leaving me.
I reach into my bag and pull out Georgie’s parting gift for me. A Kindle he bought and filled with what he said was proper reading material.
Before I can look through the catalog of books, Michael makes his way back from the cockpit holding onto a small bag. He’s dressed comfortably in black tracksuit pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that clings to his muscles, looking as impossibly sexy as ever. His hair is still wet from the shower which triggers my overactive imagination, and I immediately begin to picture him naked under hot water.
I can only imagine what a sight it is to see.
Hot.
Every cell in my body responds to his presence and I realize I need to get a grip. I try to distract myself by taking another sip of champagne.
When Michael reaches my side, he holds out the bag to me.
“I thought you might want these. They’re pajamas for the flight and a few toiletries you might need.”
I take the bag out of his hands and those wonderful fingers of his, that pleasured me just last night, brush up against mine causing goose bumps to run up my arm. My body is more than aware of his proximity.
Torture.
I have a feeling for the next ten days it’s going to be my new favorite word.
“You might want to change and get comfortable before we take off,” he suggests, casually takes the seat right next to me.
Lord.
The entire plane is empty.
And he’s going to sit here?
More torture.
“You can use the bedroom,” he continues, completely unaware of what he’s doing to my insides.
There’s a bedroom?
I’m so going to need to take Georgie’s sleeping pill.
Why couldn’t he have given me a horse tranquilizer?
“I’ll be a minute,” I tell him as I take the bag and make my way to the back of the plane. The room is a good size and looks very comfortable. It’s simple and modern, like a posh hotel with only a queen-size bed and two lounge chairs. There’s even a door that leads to a private bathroom with a shower.
I try my hardest not think about how many women he’s shared the bed with. With this setup, he’s for sure a member of the Mile High Club. And even though his manwhoring around is none of my business, I’m still extremely annoyed. And even angrier that he gave me no choice but to come along on this business trip.
I slip on the silky blue pajamas and they feel like heaven against my skin. I look in the bag and see he’s even given me a pair of slippers to wear. Begrudgingly some of my anger dissipates at his thoughtful consideration.
When I’m finished changing, I leave the bag in the corner of the room and walk out to take my seat.
Michael’s on his laptop when I reach his side. A glass of whiskey sits next to him.
“I’m glad they fit.” His gaze moves over me in appreciation. “I wasn’t sure.”
“They’re perfect,” I reply, taking my seat. “Thank you, again.”
The Captain’s voice comes over the loudspeaker and he tells us our flight time and weather conditions before asking us to prepare for takeoff. A short while later, we’re up in the air on our way to Costa Rica.
I press the button to recline my chair and pick up the Kindle, hoping I’ll find something to read that will distract me.
Michael takes that moment to close his laptop and lounge back in his chair, turning his big body toward mine. I try to pretend like he’s not watching me.
“What are you reading?”
“I don’t know yet,” I say with a shrug as I stare blindly at the homepage. “I was just going to look through my reading list and see what catches my eye.”
Michael holds out his hand.
“May I?”
“Sure.” I hand over the device.
Michael
clicks the button on the bottom and begins to swipe through the Kindle. I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he skims through the different titles.
“This one looks interesting,” he says, his eyes lighting up.
“What’s that?”
“Hard Times,” he names the book, his voice sounding serious.
“Uh, yes.” I pretend like I know what book he’s talking about even though I’ve never heard of it. “I’m really looking forward to starting it.”
“I can see why.”
His eyes flicker over me as he swipes again.
“You’ll have to let me know what it means to be feminized in jail.”
“I’m sorry?” My mouth drops open.
“Paul,” Michael continues on as if he’s discussing Hemingway. “Apparently the protagonist in this book, Paul, goes through some sort of transformation in jail. A sexual awakening… or at least that’s what I gather from this picture on the cover.”
Picture?
Oh shit.
“And this book,” Michael goes on in a serious voice. “Submissive in the Bedroom, a tale of dark delight—”
“Oh my God!” I cry out in horror as I try to snatch the Kindle out of his strong grasp.
I’m going to kill Georgie!
I should have known he’d fill that damn thing with every perverse sexual book he could find time to download.
Michael laughs in my face.
He looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself.
“Junk in the Trunk sounds like a real page-turner,” he continues on to my mortification.
He holds the Kindle up high in his hands, and I have to actually unbuckle my seatbelt to reach for it.
“The Kindle is Georgie’s!” I cry out in embarrassment as I grab it from his hands. “I swear, he gave it to me before I left my apartment.”
Michael can’t stop laughing.
“You should have seen your face,” he says, wiping his eyes. “It was classic.”
“I’m glad you’re amused,” I reply, trying my hardest to keep a straight face. “I want to kill Georgie.”
“He’s got the right idea,” Michael says, lips twitching.
“Submissive in the Bedroom is the right idea?” I tease.
Michael’s body goes completely still.
His playful smile disappears, and his eyes are hooded when they meet mine. My skin tingles in awareness as if he’s physically touching me.