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Unable to hide my grin, I challenge him, “So, what now? You know I’m off to Hawaii this weekend, and I’ll be gone for five days.”
“Five days?” He climbs on top of me, burying his head into the crook of my neck. “Well, I guess we’ve got a lot of ground to make up, Miss Mason.”
I squeal as he kisses a sensitive spot behind my ears, and squiggling beneath his body, I welcome round two with open arms.
LEX
I slowly open my eyes and take in my surroundings.
It’s dark outside with the moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains. The empty bottle of bourbon is lying on the nightstand as well as my wallet and phone. There’s the stench of cheap perfume and sex in the air. Scattered across the floor are my clothes along with a red halter-top dress. I look at her sleeping peacefully beside me—a brunette—a rare slip-up. What’s her name again? Brandy, Betty, Bindi? I carefully move off the bed, dressing quickly, and grab my belongings to leave the room.
The elevator takes forever, and upon entering, I swipe my hotel room key to the top floor. As seconds pass, my head isn’t taking well to the copious amount of liquor I managed to drink last night.
Back inside my room, I start packing my suitcase and call my assistant, Kate. She answers almost immediately.
“Kate, what time is my flight to London?”
“Eleven, sir,” she yawns as she answers.
“Book me a room next to the airport. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
This isn’t the first time I have called Kate at five in the morning asking for a hotel change. I just don’t want the aftermath of trying to cut loose the hussy from last night.
I arrive at the new hotel and shower before grabbing a quick bite to eat. I have plenty of time to spare, heading straight to the airport to wait in the business lounge until boarding.
The flight is quiet, thank God, which gives me a chance to catch up on work for the first few hours. When my eyes begin to grow weary, I shut the lid of my laptop and close them, remembering how last night began.
“Excuse me, sir, you left your credit card at the bar.”
I looked up, and before me was a gorgeous woman wearing a red halter dress, black pumps, her long brown hair flowing down her back. Of course, she noticed when I eyed her from head to toe. Not bad, I thought to myself, it’s been a while since I got some pussy.
“Thank you…” I searched her face, waiting for an answer.
“Brandy,” she said, batting her eyelashes.
We sat at a table and started talking. She told me she was a flight attendant from Alaska and continued to talk, but all I could think about was the hair—the long, brown hair that flowed down her back. I ached to touch it, remembering how it felt running my fingers through it. Fuck no, don’t reminisce. Brandy smelled fantastic like sex. Probably wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Such a dirty little whore.
“So, tell me, Lex, what do you do?”
I broke out of my thoughts and quickly answered her question. This woman was really starting to bore me. I offered her another drink which she gladly accepted before inviting me to her room.
I don’t remember much, only that she was loud and wanted me to pull her hair harder. She enjoyed being dominated, playing the innocent woman begging to be fucked. I don’t do brunettes, but last night, I let my guard down. I fucked her twice before collapsing on the bed and passing out.
Lately, the tension has mounted. Many things are weighing on my mind, and blowing off steam usually does the trick, but as I sit here listening to the pilot announce our descent, I’m not any more relieved of the stress.
The plane arrives in London on time. As usual, my driver is waiting for me at the gate. I decide to go straight to the office, knowing I have a busy day ahead of me. It doesn’t come as a surprise when we drive out of Heathrow to see that the skies are gray, the clouds forming in a cluster. It’s summer, and you’d think that after five years of living in London, I’d be used to this, but I still miss the constant sunshine back home.
Our office is on the top floor and has a fantastic view of the River Thames. I’m proud of what I built from nothing. Years of pushing myself to build my empire, dedicating my life to my work, and goddamn, it’s paid off. I know what my net worth is, and so does everyone else after The Times article was published.
When it comes to business, I regret nothing. I’ve made hard and fast decisions, took risks, and never let anyone influence me any other way. I know becoming a doctor was my father’s dream, not mine. That’s not to say I don’t respect him. I’ve never met a man as driven as my father. His dedication and compassion astound me.
Yet our fallout years ago after I decided to quit the medical field and focus on building my empire was a kick in the guts I never expected from my own flesh and blood. Neither of us would back down. My mother was devastated, trying her best to repair our relationship. It took the passing of my grandfather for us to start talking to each other again, though our relationship still remains strained, something I choose to ignore.
I’m his son, and I failed him. Even Bill Gates would argue that in a heartbeat.
I enter the lobby to see the staff nervously shuffle around me. It fucking pisses me off every single time. They better not have been slacking off. I remind myself to contact human resources and have performance reviews done. These twenty-something girls think they have it all figured out, but gossiping during work on my time isn’t acceptable. Fuck, I’m getting more annoyed by the minute. Slamming the door behind me, I walk to my desk and press the speed dial button to reception.
“Gretchen, get Kate in my office, now.”
