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I swallow thickly and look at the food. It does appear delicious, with the golden omelet wafting steam and the mimosa beckoning with its pinky-orangish hue.
“Mmm, this is amazing,” I practically moan after swallowing the first bite. “I could eat this for every meal.”
Keith grins.
“Then we will,” he says lightly. “Again, my staff is at our beck and call, so we’ll be able to order anything we like.”
I stare at him.
“You have staff coming to Tahiti too?”
He laughs.
“Yes, just a few. I also know some folks there, so they’ll be working for me too. It’s fine, Kelsey. It’s not too much, and we may as well enjoy ourselves.”
I guess he can read my expression because I’m stunned at this level of personal concierge service. A staff that follows you around the world, ready to jump at your beck and call? It seems insane and over the top, but I guess when you have as much money as Keith Commons, it makes sense.
“Thanks,” I mumble. “I appreciate it.”
Then, I take a deep breath and finish my mimosa. I am certainly not acting like myself because usually, I barely drink, yet I’ve already polished off an alcoholic beverage first thing in the morning. Have I forgotten that this is my boss and that I’m here for business purposes?
“I apologize, Mr. Commons. I must just be a bit nervous about flying,” I say while wiping my lips. “I don’t usually drink like a fish.” He watches my movements closely, those blue eyes centered on my lush pout.
“It’s Keith,” he says smoothly. Then, he waves two fingers at Angela. “I’ve ordered you another mimosa because it’ll help with the pre-flight jitters. Now, here try this. It will melt in your mouth.”
Keith picks up one of the fritters and rips it in half, sticky honey dripping off his fingers, and leans in holding the steamy pastry in front of my lips. My heart is hammering. Is this what bosses do? It seems way too intimate, but then again, I don’t want to get fired either. I reach with my hand to take it from him.
“No. Open.”
I am suddenly very warm. Does this man expect me to take food into my mouth directly from his fingers? Oh my god, oh my god. But I open my mouth and close my eyes at the same time. I can’t look at him while he does this. He lets out a low growl, and then warm, sweet deliciousness hits my tongue. Thick honey starts to drip over my bottom lip as I close my mouth, and I swallow this dose of pure heaven. I open my eyes to reach for a napkin but before I can move, Keith catches the honey with the tip of his finger. Then, his eyes lock on mine as he licks the sweet sauce from his fingertip.
“Tasty,” he says in a low, sensuous voice. “Utterly appetizing.”
My face flushes as wetness pools between my thighs. As if he knows, that blue gaze travels over my breasts and downwards, and I swear this man can see through my panties. Is he wondering if I’m just as sweet down there? Oh my god!
But the moment is broken as Angela appears with another round of drinks and two bottles of water. She must be a mind reader because I seriously need that water to douse the flames that are currently burning in my lower regions.
“The pilot said to tell you the jet will be ready for boarding in fifteen minutes,” she says politely.
“Thank you, Angela.”
I’ve noticed Keith is always courteous to the help. I like that.
“Now it’s time to finish your breakfast, Kelsey,” he says, his blue eyes dancing once we’re in private again. “But do you think you can manage it on your own, without my assistance?”
I swallow, my cheeks flushing again and merely nod. This trip with my hot boss is already out of control, and we haven’t even started yet.4KeithI’ve regained my composure as we prepare for takeoff. I hadn’t intended to feed that pastry to Kelsey. It just happened, I swear, and it was so fucking erotic too. If I’d stared at those red lips glistening with honey for a moment longer I may have taken her right there in the airport lounge.
But this is to be expected because I haven’t been able to get Kelsey off my mind since I saw her at her desk yesterday. The decision to bring her on this trip was sudden, but I’ve found that following my instincts has made me who I am. I need to get out of the city. I need to get away from women like Erica and Ashley and their mothers fishing for a billionaire husband. They’re all so fake and plastic and it revolts me at this point. Their breasts have been sculpted by the finest surgeons in the city and their asses are so hard from endless hours at the gym that I feel like I’m grabbing a log when I screw them.
