Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I finally spot my car coming along the road leading to the private airport and I relax. She’s here. They must have hit traffic or something. I check my watch again. It’s getting on for 2.45 and the pilot has a three o’clock take off booked. We have more than enough time.
The car pulls up alongside the plane and the back door opens at the same time as the driver’s door. A smile twists my lips. How interesting. All the girls I’ve ever been with waited for the door to be open. Cindy clearly isn’t used to being waited on.
I lose my train of thought when I see her emerging from the car. She stands looking up at the plane, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. She’s wearing a canary yellow sundress that shows off her long, long legs and her stunning tan. Her hair is loose, blowing slightly in the breeze. My brain takes a mental picture of her standing there like that so I never forget this moment.
Cindy follows the driver around to the boot of the car and I have to laugh at his surprised expression. He speaks to her and she shrugs. Clearly, she thought she would fetch her own luggage. She doesn’t, of course. Steven knows better than to allow her anywhere near the cargo area. She turns and starts walking towards me.
I remember the promise I’ve just made to myself.
No flirting.
Nothing even mildly inappropriate. Just cool and professional, nothing else. But the sight of her walking in the sunlight, gives my cock other ideas and I adjust my jeans slightly to make sure my hard-on isn’t on show.
I shake my head at myself in surprise. I’m never ever like this around a woman. No woman has ever affected me the way she does. Best part is she’s not even fucking trying. Hell, this is the behavior of a fucking horny teenager, and it has to stop. I dread to think what effect she could have on me if she actually wanted to seduce me. I’d be like a blabbering idiot, frothing at the mouth.
I force my eyes away from her legs. If I focus on them for too long, I know what will happen. This trip will become utter hell.
She comes up the steps and I smile as she reaches my side. I gesture for her to go ahead and enter the plane.
“Welcome aboard,” the stewardess says as she steps into the cabin.
She turns back and looks at me over her shoulder, flashing me a quick smile and then she turns back to the stewardess.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. Suddenly, she appears dignified, like a woman who has been flying in private planes all her life and I know for sure I have made the right decision. She will do a good job.
I walk past her and sit down.
She takes the seat opposite mine, adjusts her dress modestly, then spoils it by crossing her silky legs seductively. It takes all of my willpower to keep my eyes focused on her face rather than those long, long legs.
I picture her stretching out and kicking off one of her sandals. I see her lift her leg casually, then her toes are pushing inside my trouser leg, trailing over my skin, moving higher. I can almost feel her touch. Inside my heated head, she springs out of her seat, straddles me, and unleashing my cock, rides me.
Fuck!
“The captain will be doing his final checks now,” I mutter, pleased that my voice doesn’t give away the images my brain cooks up when I look at her bare legs. “We’re due to take off in less than five minutes, and once we’re up, the bar opens.”
“Sounds good,” she says, fastening her seat belt. “Can I ask you something? Something that’s going to make me sound a bit naïve.”
“Sure,” I smile.
“What’s the procedure to flying into Russia?” she asks.
“We’ll touch down briefly in a normal airport and a customs officer will get on board, check our passports and the pilot’s flight details. Once we’re cleared, we’ll go back up and land at the private airstrip on my aunt’s land.”
“I see. I guess the real benefit of flying private is not having to rub shoulders with all the rest of the cattle, isn’t it?”
I arch an eyebrow. “You think I’m a terrible snob?”
“Oh, I do,” she admits with tinkling laughter. “A snob and a queue jumper. The worst combination.”
Her laugh is infectious and I can’t help myself from breaking into a grin. It’s good to hear her real laugh, see her real smile. This is a very different Cindy to the one I met the other night in the casino.
“Seriously though, I can see the appeal of not having to be at the airport for hours before taking off, and I can definitely see the appeal of skipping the lines at the other end.”