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We’re 10 minutes away! :)
It wasn’t foresight that made me ask my pilot team to schedule the flight plan for five and not four this afternoon.
Ça va
“Monsieur Montaigne, Ms. Lewis just sent a text that she and Ms. Beaulieu are ten minutes away.”
Blair appears to inform me of the news. She’s taken to formal titles when we’re in business mode instead of just Luc.
I glance up and smile, “Merci, Blair.”
I allow my eyes to focus on her face to gauge her interest. She’s a beautiful young woman. The quintessential English Rose with wind-flushed cheeks, flawless skin, and just-bitten lips. Lips I want crushed to mine or wrapped around my cock.
“You’re welcome, Monsieur Montaigne,” Blair replies, a blush deepening the color in her cheeks.
I’ll take her flustered response as a positive.
“I have the latest copy of the Financial Times if you would like to read it. There’s an interesting article on the banking industry and additional security measures to protect clients’ personal information,” she says to engage me in conversation to extend our interaction.
Despite having read the advance copy yesterday afternoon, I respond, “That would be lovely, Blair.”
With a flash of her bright smile, she turns on her heels to retrieve the newspaper.
“Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur Montaigne, would you care for more water?”
“No thank you, Daphne.”
“Here’s the article,” Blair says as she bustles past the flight attendant, giving her a face and sitting beside me, holding the newspaper in my direction.
“We’re here!”
“Arrivé, arrivé!”
A chorus from the private jet’s door brings our attention to Lola entering the plane, followed by Leonie.
I stand and make my way to them.
“Bonjour, Chères,” I greet L&L with double kisses and hugs.
“Bonjour, Renard Argenté,” winks Leonie, peering over my shoulder at Blair and Daphne.
“Bonjour, Luc,” Lola adds, “so sorry! The traffic was ghastly!”
“I can imagine… That’s why I left earlier,” I tease with a quirk of my eyebrow.
Turning to Daphne, I ask her to inform the pilots we’re ready to depart.
Daphne scurries past me with a side-long stare before she hurries to the cockpit to deliver my message to the crew. Leonie and Lola titter in amusement while they seat themselves—Lola across from me and Leonie stretches out in the adjacent four-seat cluster.
“Ms. Lewis,” Blair clears her throat, “do you need anything at the moment?”
Lola shifts in her seat to address Blair. “I’m fine, thank you. You can get settled now,” Lola nods her head to the rear of the jet where the other assistants and two members of my staff sit buckled in their seats.
With a nod to Lola and a coquettish glance at me, Blair heads down the aisle. I watch her round derriere move with each step. The sight makes my cock twitch. Discreetly adjusting my bulge, I stride to my seat and buckle up just as the twin Rolls-Royce engines roar to life.
* * *
Blair
