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She leads the way down the stairs and onto the tarmac. My heels click against the glossy white metal as I follow her, stopping beside the staircase.
Jenna adjusts my cap before extending the handle of her suitcase. “Have a good flight.”
“Enjoy your time off.”
Jenna strides back into the airport hall as a pitch-black Benz rounds the corner, coming straight for the plane.
I stand taller as the car comes to a stop a few feet from me. The driver’s door swings open and a lanky man in a suit steps out. He hurries to the back door of the passenger’s side, pulling it open and staring off into the distance.
The first man to step out has hair that shines like spun gold beneath the early afternoon sun. Green eyes the color of imported beer bottles flicker toward me.
Inky black tattoos peek out of the collar of his shirt and the cuffs of his sleeves.
The second man slides out of the car, deep auburn locks tousled and warm honey eyes staring a hole through me. Tattoos similar to the first man’s crawl in the same places, swirling against his alabaster skin.
Both men are attractive, but they are nothing compared to the final man who gets out of the car. My heart comes to a screeching halt as the last man glances my way, his dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.
I want to rake my fingers through the dark chocolate hair, blending in the silver streaks that break up the darkness. The tousled, collar-length waves hinted at a subtle disarray as if he’d run his fingers through it just minutes before getting out of the car.
His broad shoulders roll back as he stands straight, drawing himself to his full height. The men all wear matte black suits, but there is something about the way the oldest of the trio wears it that makes me clench my thighs together. He’s tall, at least six foot three, and has a body to die for. His tailored suit clings to his powerful frame, emphasizing the bulging muscles beneath the fabric. With every step he comes closer, my pulse flutters.
My smile nearly falters when he stands only a couple of feet from me, but I remember myself and hold it in place. “Good afternoon, I’m Anna and I’ll be your attendant for your flight today. If you would like to board and get settled, I will be around to tend to your needs momentarily.”
The older man takes off his sunglasses. Eyes the color of an azure ocean, accentuated by thick, dark eyelashes, stare back at me. His gaze wanders up and down my body and a warm tingling sensation runs through me.
There is something about the three of them that seems different from other businessmen. They exude power and danger from every pore. They are a testament to raw masculinity in its most primal form, and I don’t know why I find that exciting.
Shit! I need a moment to gather myself. I don’t know what’s come over me, but it needs to stop.
I have a job to do, and I can't allow myself to be distracted, even if the man with piercing blue eyes has the potential to be the biggest distraction I’ve ever encountered.
As I tug at the scarf around my neck, trying to cool down, I climb the steps of the plane. It takes a couple of minutes to shut and secure the door behind me.
When I step out of the cabin to give the safety demonstration before take-off, the men are staring at their phones. None of them look up as I go through the routine of showing them how the seatbelts buckle and what to do in case of an emergency.
The man with the blue eyes gets up and disappears into the small lounge at the back of the plane.
I exhale slowly as the seatbelt light comes on.
Finally, a moment to disappear.
I step into the cabin and take my seat, buckling up as the plane comes to life. It speeds down the runway, the nose lifting into the air.
As soon as the seatbelt sign turns off, I stand and prepare the service trolley.
The two other men are reclined in the beige leather seats, their eyes shut and soft snores filling the cabin.
It’s hard to see them as dangerous when they are sprawled out, but when my gaze drops, the guns on their hips are visible. I swallow hard and keep moving down the aisle, trying to be as quiet as possible. It's not the first time I’ve been on a flight with guns on board–another advantage of private charter flights–but it is the first time I’ve been surrounded by men who would certainly use them in a heartbeat.
The small bottles of alcohol on the trolley clink together as I knock on the door to the VIP lounge before sliding it open.
As I enter, the man with the ocean-blue eyes, slouching on the cream-colored plush couch looks up at me. His long legs take up most of what little walking space there is in the room.
“Is there anything I can get you?” I try to keep my voice even although the way he stares at me is unnerving. He gives me the feeling that he is slowly undressing me with his eyes. His presence is as magnetic as the pull of the moon. “Coffee, tea?”
If there was a man, a real man, I could choose to lose my virginity to, it would be him.
He drapes one arm over the back of the couch. “Whiskey.”
