by Ana Gabriel
“Oh, God,” I mumble.
“You like that?” he growls.
“I’m, I’m going to come.”
His body goes stiff behind me, and he lets out a grunt. Just before I’m about to explode with sweet relief, he pulls out. It happens so quickly that my legs fail under my weight, and I almost stumble to the ground if not for the counter’s support beneath me.
Cole pulls his pants up over his cock. “What’s wrong, Rose?”
Warm wetness slips down my leg.
“You asshole,” I manage.
A grin pulls up his lips. He pats my butt. “And now we’re even. Better get packing. Like you said: you only have three days.”
Then he winks at me and saunters out of the room, whistling a tune as I heave against the counter naked.
Chapter Eight
“Prague? Prague!” Kate yells. She pulls down her sunglasses and looks around. We’ve gotten a few stares since I told her about the trip and she hasn’t stopped yelling the word Prague. She’s had a couple of drinks already and it does nothing for her volume control.
“Sorry,” she whisper-yells as I shush her. We’re sitting outside a restaurant in the Grove. She insisted on coming here since I’m leaving in a couple of hours and she insists on paying, so I’m still nursing my first drink. “Damn, do you know any Czech at all?”
“Not a word,” I admit.
“Bet this job’s not looking so bad right about now, is it?”
I think about my frustration in the kitchen three days ago. Cole hasn’t made a move to touch me since, and fuck if I’m going to go begging for it. Even though just thinking about him has me tied up in knots.
“Come on. Finish your drink,” I say, unwilling to answer the question. I still can’t bring myself to tell Kate what I’ve been doing with Cole and besides, at the rate she’s drinking, soon everyone in the bar is going to know Cole Dean is flying to Prague and I’m going with him. I point to the storefront of La Perla, just visible across the street. “Last minute shopping,” I say. “Then I really have to go.”
Kate’s flicking through pics on tourist sites on her phone as she downs the last of her mojito. “Look at this architecture! I can’t believe you’re going for a whole week. I wonder what he’ll have you doing while you’re there?”
She grabs her purse and pays the bill and I try not to think about what he’ll have me doing, or what I wish he’d have me doing. He’s barely been in the house since the kitchen incident and now I don’t know what to think.
I slip my oversize sunglasses on because I’m sure what I’m thinking about is written all over my face, but Kate doesn’t say anything as we cross the street and push through the door into the air conditioned cool of the underwear store.
Once we’re confronted with row upon row of backlit displays of lace and silk though, she gives me a quizzical look.
I feel myself blush. “I just got paid,” I say. “Thought I could treat myself.”
“Honey, it’s someone else who’s getting the treat if you wear these.” She waves a scrap of gossamer thin black lace at me and grins. “Are you seeing someone? Or just hoping to get lucky with a European hottie?”
“I’m working.” I know I’m coming off a bit prim and proper, but we’re skating too close to the truth here, and the truth is I want to drive Cole Dean insane with lust and then maybe tell him to fuck off.
“Well I don’t know what kind of work you’re planning to do in this,” she says, picking up a gold bustier that should be tacky but is just plain awesome instead and which I know would look great with my skin and hair.
I check the time again and flit quickly through the racks, selecting mainly black. Kate’s watches me thoughtfully and when I’m about to go through to the changing room, she says, “What’s it really like living with Cole Dean?” The way she says it, serious now, makes me realize how secretive I’ve been. How I’ve brushed away her questions and avoided her and not told her any of the things I’d be telling her right now if I hadn’t let all my morals go to hell and ruined everything by having sex with my boss.
The sales girl’s head snaps up and she stares at me unashamedly. I see her open her mouth and I know what’s going to come out. Just what I don’t want – attention for the fact that I’m Cole’s PA.
I push past into the changing rooms and close the door.
~
Three hours later I’m sitting in a plane seat next to Cole being politely ignored while a flight attendant pours a soft drink for him. It’s the third time she’s checked if he wants something. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else,” she says, giving him an actual flutter of her eyelashes. I swear she comes over just so he can watch her walk away. The black pants she’s wearing fit her ass so well I see several heads turn as she makes her way down the aisle.
“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” Cole asks. “It’s a fourteen hour flight.”
“I know how long it is,” I say, more snappy than I intended. “Sorry, I-Is there anything you’ll need me to do right away when we get there?”
Cole takes a sip of his drink and winks at the flight attendant – actually winks – who’s managing to serve somebody else champagne and give Cole a dazzlingly sexy smile at the same time. “You took care of the cars and the hotel already, right?” he asks in distracted way.
Of course I did. What does he think I am, some kind of idiot? “It’s my job isn’t it?” I say, still sounding testy.
“Is something wrong, Miss Weatherston?” he asks.
No. I did not purchase several sets of exorbitantly priced underwear for the sole purpose of this trip. I am not in the least bothered by the many and varied girls, of whom this flight attendant is just one, that must fling themselves at him on a daily basis. And no, I don’t mind at all that this is my job and yet the last time my employer was near me, he pushed me against his kitchen counter and fucked me senseless only to leave me hanging at the last second. It’s fine. It’s all fine.
What I say instead is, “No. We’re on schedule and everything is fine. I’m just tired is all.”
I use the excuse to open my laptop and finalize some details for the trip then glance over the list I made of sights I want to see. I’ve looked at it a thousand times already and I practically have it memorized. I’m itching to open my screenplay, but he might see it or ask what I’m working on, so instead, when I’m done, I put headphones on and start watching some movie. I think it’s supposed to be funny, but I can’t focus because Cole is toying with the ice stirrer in his drink, running his fingers up and down it and then swirling the ice, and it is making me crazy.
When the film finishes I’m none the wiser as to what the plot was and I decide to look at the pictures I’ve saved on my laptop. I should focus on the trip. I’m going to Prague. It has a fricken castle and I mean really, when am I going to get the chance to see that again?
I’m picturing myself wandering across Charles Bridge, my hair blowing out around me, then taking in the National theatre, when my favorite sexy flight attendant walks past again with her glossy dark hair and what can only be described as fuck me lipstick on. Her mouth curls up in a provocative little smile just for Cole and then she’s gone to the back end of the plane again.
Minutes later, Cole’s finished his drink and is out of his seat heading the same way the flight attendant went. I don’t look at him as he walks past. More minutes pass – three to be exact – and I glance behind me. I can’t see him. I can’t see her either. I click through more photos of interesting places I’d like to see in Prague, which is another eight whole hours away, but I’m becoming increasingly convinced that Cole might spend the rest of those eight hours joining the mile high club with his newest fuck buddy. I can’t believe I ever hoped I was different. But I’m a lay to Cole, just like that model in his bed the first night, just like anybody else. Except I’m not even that anymore if he’s screwing other people.
I’ve made a huge mistake. Colossal. I think abo
ut the possibility of asking the pilot if he’d be so good as to turn around and take me home, or just let me off here. I’m going to spend the week holding Cole’s jacket while he fucks his way around a film set and a foreign city. And it’s my own damn fault.
I slam the laptop lid shut and recline my chair. Immediately a flight attendant brings over a blanket and I take it gratefully. I can hide under it like a six-year-old and maybe when I come out my life won’t be such a catastrophe.
When Cole comes back he bangs his way into the seat, orders a drink in a loud voice and then clinks the ice around so much he must be trying to destroy it. I don’t open my eyes though. I don’t want to see his smug I-just-got-screwed face.
After about three hours, or maybe twenty minutes, I feel a light touch on my knee.
“Rose.”
I open one eye. Cole is crouched in front of me. His hair is mussed in a way I’d find totally irresistible if I’d been the one to make it look like that.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Dean?” I say.
“Ask not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you,” he says. His hand is still on my knee. I can feel the heat of it through the blanket draped over me.
I pull myself up a little in the reclined chair. “Are you drunk?”
“Stone cold sober,” he says, one hand on his chest and the other working its way under the blanket to my bare leg. I’m wearing a comfy little sundress and some not so comfy new underwear underneath and his hand now rests on my thigh just under the hemline.
I keep my voice low. “What are you doing? Haven’t you had enough for one flight? And in case you hadn’t noticed, we are on an airplane. As in, in public.” I glance around. The seats are set off from each other in pairs, curved around and tilted to the window sides to make semi-private little pods, but there are still maybe thirty other people just feet away from us.
“I’m very aware of where I am. And who I’m with,” he says. His fingers slip higher, grazing over my skin. My thigh tenses under his touch.
He frowns. “And what do you mean ‘had enough for one flight’?”
I look around for the unnecessarily sexy flight attendant, but she’s still nowhere to be seen.
“You were gone to the bathroom an awfully long time, Mr. Dean,” I say, pointedly. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I pull my leg away from his hand and push my knees together.
Cole’s frown deepens for a second before he realizes what I’m getting at. “You’re mistaken, Miss Weatherston. The pilot’s kid wanted an autograph and I obliged. That’s where I was.”
“Oh,” I manage to say. Well that’s not embarrassing at all. And now he knows I was sitting here the whole time sulking like a jealous teenager.
He kneels in front of me, pushing both hands under the blanket, fingertips tracing patterns over my thighs, which I’ve got clamped together. His chest presses against my knees and I see the muscle in his jaw twitch.
“Although, you’re giving me ideas, Miss Weatherston,” he murmurs, glancing in the direction of the bathroom.
A thrill shoots down my stomach. Stupid, immature jealousy. I decide right then that is has no place in our relationship. This is just for fun and I’ll drive myself crazy if I think any other way.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me, and his hands move up the sides of my thighs, beneath my dress. He stops and sucks in a breath when he reaches the delicate lace of my panties, and suddenly I don’t know why I’m keeping my legs together because I want the weight of him pressed up against me right now.
He moves in as soon as I part my legs, running his fingers so lightly over my stomach and down to my clit that I shudder. I glance around. No one’s looking, but we cannot do this here. I just can’t.
I try to push up to sitting, but he slides one hand up my dress, and holds me still, flipping my bra upwards and running a thumb over my nipple. My back arches involuntarily and he pushes my panties aside and uses his other thumb to rub circles over my clit. I shove my hand over my mouth to stop myself crying out. Cole’s body is taut between my legs, my thighs squeezing him, urging him to come closer. His fingers tease at my opening and I want to beg and scream. I stifle it all, but my body is shaking and it gets to the point where it’s unbearable.
With a wicked grin, he ducks under the blanket and I feel one hot breath on the hinge of my thigh before he kisses me over the sheer fabric of my panties. It makes me wild and the smallest sound escapes my lips, like a whimper. I’ve never wanted anything more than to tell him exactly what I want him to do to me and what I want to do to him, and I can’t say a word.
I try to slow my breathing, keep quiet. God, if somebody sees this. It’ll be all over the Internet. Photos of Cole and his devastating smile, playing up to his rogue image, and me, the mystery girl of the minute, desperate and talentless and willing to do anything for her fifteen minutes of fame.
It’s cheap and oh so dangerous for a girl in my position and my heart is pounding out of my chest with how much I need him to make me come.
Cole’s hair brushes my inner thigh and he lifts the material of my panties up with his fingers and hovers over me. I can feel how close he is. I fist a hand in his hair but he holds still, gripping my thighs as though he’s trying to restrain himself. Let him try. I can’t.
I half pull him up, half slide down to meet him, his chest against mine, hard and tight.
“If I don’t get what I want in the next twenty seconds, it’s going to kill me,’ I whisper savagely in his ear.
“I love it when you tell me what to do,” he says, but he’s only half joking, his eyes wild and unfocused.
“Take me to the bathroom right now.”
“You go first. I’ll follow in a few minutes.” That smile again. “Can you wait that long?”
I can’t, but I’ll have to. I yank my dress down and glance around as I hurry to the back end of the cabin and slip into the bathroom. My cheeks are flushed, my hair is mussed at the back and my pupils are dilated like I’m on something.
Three seconds later, the door opens. “That was not a few minutes.” I whirl to face him as he clicks the door locked and we’re alone in a business class bathroom that sure as hell isn’t like anything I’m used to. But something tells me the rest of this flight isn’t going to be anything like what I’ve experienced before either.
“I tried to wait,” he says. “I’m kind of lacking in restraint.”
Tell me about it. I went for six months without having sex before this job and barely even thought about it, but three days without Cole and I’m reckless and raging and I have to have him.
“You’d better be ready to finish what you started,” I tell him, but I can see that he is from the way that he stands, as though he’s going to hunt me; and when he crosses the small room in two steps and claims my mouth with a hard kiss, I can feel that he is too.
He presses me against the sink unit, one hand on my back, the other lifting my leg to wrap around him. I twine my arms around his neck and lift myself, locking both legs around his hips. He moans into my mouth as I push my hips forward, pressing my wet panties into his cock.
“God, I want you,” he says, voice husky and incredibly sexy. He pushes me back onto the unit, my ass resting on it and my shoulders against the mirror so I’m leaning back and he can see my body. His eyes rake over me and I shiver.
“Take the dress off,” he says.
I pull it over my head in one move and toss it on the pile of folded facecloths.
“That underwear is going to be the end of me.” He toys with my lace panties until I spread my legs wide, frantic for him to touch me.
But that wicked grin is back and I know by now how he loves to tease sometimes. I can’t stop myself from letting him. He leans down close to the lacy material and looks up at me, his mouth an inch from my clit and a wolfish look in his eyes.
“Please,” I say, barely able to keep from pushing up to meet him.
Slowly, he twists the lace aside and fli
cks his tongue over me. The heat of it makes me gasp, sparks igniting in my stomach. Equally slowly he reaches down and unbuttons his jeans and the whole time his breath is sending shivers over every inch of me.
But I can tell in the way he holds himself, the muscles in his arms rigid, that he’s as close to losing it as I am. I push myself up, grab his hand, and make him touch me, knowing what it will do to him to feel how wet I am. He groans, pushing his hand into my hair and kissing me hard as he shoves his jeans down.
I’m so close already that the tip of his cock at my entrance is enough to make me moan. He grabs my hips and holds me still like it’s a battle of wills, a game, like he’s trying to drive me wild. And it’s working.
“Please,” I beg, and it’s like the word and everything it means is the only thing that matters to me.
It’s exactly what he wants to hear. He braces himself with one hand on the mirror behind my shoulder and slides all the way into me, his hips slamming against my thighs. He’s so hard I hover on the border of pain, but when he moves again and then again I fall all the way over the other side into pleasure, heat spilling inside me and radiating out. Three days without this and it feels like forever.
I’m lost to it, and he’s relentless, driving into me over and over until my whole body is tight and all I can think is more and don’t stop.
“Fuck, that’s so good.” Cole voice is ragged. He grabs my ass pulling me onto him, the whole length of him deep inside.
“Close. So close,” I tell him, and he bends over me, pushing my bra aside and sucking my nipple into his mouth. His tongue makes circles and he thrusts again and my orgasm pulses like a shockwave that goes on and on but still he doesn’t stop.
The line of fire through my body pulls tighter and tighter. It doesn’t ebb and Cole doesn’t give it chance. His hair is mussed and tiny beads of sweat collect on his skin. He’s so hard inside me.