1
JANIE
Perfect bliss. Perfect torture.
That’s what it’s like to sit so close to Mr. Capulet on this airplane. He smells so freaking good. I can’t describe it, but I’m sure it’s an expensive cologne. Something spicy and woodsy.
The torture is that I’m in a heightened state of arousal. Constantly. Even when the flight attendants are moving up and down the aisles, offering snacks.
I can try to push the lust down, ignore it, but the fact is, my pussy tingles around him all the time, no matter what. Airplane or no airplane, this is a problem. I’ll be quietly minding my own business at work and he’ll walk past my desk on his way to lunch. “Do you need anything, Janie?” he’ll ask in his deep, rumbling voice.
“No, sir, but it’s my job to ask you that,” I’ll respond.
“I just want to make sure my employees are taken care of.” He’ll smile on his way out the door.
And I will melt into a lust-puddle in my perfectly proportioned ergonomic office chair. Taken care of? Yes, please take care of me, sir.
It is the absolute worst thing having a crush on your boss. Even worse when your boss is your best friend’s dad.
Out of respect for Ariel, and out of respect for my job, I’ve maintained very firm boundaries. I don’t contact Mr. Capulet outside of work hours, and never about anything that isn’t specifically work-related. At company events, I never take the seat next to him unless it’s the last one available. And I always call him “sir,” or “Mr. Capulet.” Never by his first name, no matter how many times he asks. “Christopher” is not an option.
However, we are currently on an airplane flying back to California from a company vacation. He wants to see Ariel, and I decided to come home early and surprise my family. I’d told them I would miss our traditional day-after-Christmas get-together, but now I’ll be able to make it.
Mom’s sugar cookies, here I come!
“Are you glad to skip out early?” Mr. Capulet asks after the attendant has dropped off our breakfast muffins.
“Yes, and no,” I say honestly. “I’m looking forward to seeing my family and eating sugar cookies, but I was having a good time at the ski lodge.”
“I know it’s strange to have a company vacation over Christmas.” He gives me a rueful smile. “It was partly to give those of us without families who celebrate, a place to go and enjoy the holiday break.”
He was one of those lonely people. He lost his wife when Ariel and I were twelve. He and Ariel were inseparable until he fucked up and took the side of her manipulative, gaslighting ex-boyfriend.
Now, though, they’re reconciling—hence the trip back to San Esteban. I’m happy for them, and even an early end to our trip won’t change that.
We tell a few jokes about the way Mathieu, one of the company’s top sellers, bragged about his prowess on the snowboard. “I almost went to the Olympics,” he’d said. Then on the first day of our vacation, he proceeded to crash so hard on a supposedly easy route, he didn’t get on a board again.
“He was faking that injury,” I say.
“Really?” Mr. Capulet raises his eyebrows and grins.
“He was walking fine when he thought no one was looking. He practically strutted by the red-haired bartender last night.”
Mr. Capulet laughs. “He’s never going to live this down, is he?”
“Nope. I mean, I won’t make a big deal out of it, but Ashley will.” I grin. “And I’ll probably laugh when she does. It’s too hard not to.”
I fight back a yawn. I want to stay awake and talk to Mr. Capulet. It’s rare I get his undivided attention like this. But we had to leave for the airport at four a.m. this morning. The lack of sleep is catching up to me. Feeling warm and protected, I fall asleep.
My dream is wild—and wildly arousing. I’m on my knees in front of Mr. Capulet, mouth open while he taunts me with his cock. He pushes it toward my lips, but never touches me with it. I stick out my tongue, trying to lick him, but he pulls back at the last second. I strain forward. Something holds me back.
I turn to look behind me and find my ex-boyfriend, Taggert Shaw. He grips my shoulders, his sexy forearms flexed. I want to scream in frustration. Even here? Even here, in my dreams, you’re holding me back?
He glares down at me, a sadistic glint in his playful blue eyes. As I struggle against his firm hands, he switches his grasp from my shoulders to my nipples, pinching me in an excruciatingly pleasurable way.
I cry out, my pussy clamping down on emptiness, before waking with a start.
I’m still on the airplane. I’m leaning on Mr. Capulet’s shoulder.
