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Because what Brooklyn didn’t realize was that she was almost giving me everything I wanted. As long as she nailed the interview, she’d be starting the job right around the time I’d be heading home to LA. Her relocation package would include six months of housing in a room at the Beverly Hills Spade Hotel until she found a place of her own. Not only would she be working for our company, but she’d also be living ten minutes from my house.
But Brooklyn could be feeling some trepidation about becoming a Spade Hotel employee and how that would affect things between us. If that was the case, she’d want to move at a speed that was slow as fuck.
The same speed she was moving at now.
All that did was give me more motivation to make her mine before she found out I was going to be her boss.
A situation I still hadn’t handled, but I would.
I pulled my fingers out of her hold and touched her cheek. “It’s enough.”
I was just lowering my hand toward her leg when the flight attendant returned.
“Your champagne.” She positioned the glass in the cupholder next to Brooklyn’s window seat. “And your scotch,” she said, handing me my tumbler. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“A blanket.” I nodded toward Brooklyn. “She’s cold.”
“I have some heated ones in the back. Let me grab one for you.”
The second she was gone, Brooklyn laughed. “A blanket? Really?”
“You’ll be impressed with what I’m able to do under there.”
She glanced behind her, checking on the flight attendant. “Wait … you’re really going to—”
“Yes.”
Her mouth stayed open, almost hanging. “While the flight attendant sits directly behind us?”
“She won’t be directly behind us. She’ll be by the restroom, which isn’t in the main cabin.”
“But it’s close enough.”
I lowered my voice as I said, “You didn’t seem to have a problem with me playing with your pussy in the backseat of the SUV. Why is this any different?”
“I don’t know.” She filled her lungs. “I guess because there was music playing, so the driver couldn’t hear me.”
I tapped the screen of the tablet that was built into the back of the seat in front of me, selecting music out of all the entertainment options, and picked the first station I came across. Country rock instantly came through the speakers.
“That’s solved. What other excuse do you have for me?”
While Brooklyn seemed to be contemplating my question, the flight attendant returned with a thick black fleece blanket that she spread over the front of Brooklyn. “The captain just notified me that takeoff is in about four minutes. Is there anything else I can get you in the meantime?”
“We’re good,” I told her. I even added a smile, which I shifted toward Brooklyn. “Aren’t we?”
She nodded, her skin flushing. “Yes.”
“I’ll be back after takeoff to check on you.”
Once we were alone again, I said, “Four minutes until takeoff. We’ll have another five, maybe six until she’s back.”
Her brows rose. “What are you saying?”
I chuckled. “There’s something you want … am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then, you’d better start begging me, Brooklyn, because from my calculations, you have no more than ten minutes to convince me to finger-fuck you and make you come.”
