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CHAPTER EIGHT
Nick
Oh shit.
I’m so fucked.
Because Joanie’s supposed to be on a flight to Atlanta right now. She’s supposed to meet the twins for a dirty rendezvous, doing the two men any and every way they want.
But I’m keeping her here in New York.
Even now, Joanie’s in my guest en suite, taking a shower.
She should be working. She should be on the G6, but instead it’s empty.
Aaron and Andrew are gonna be pissed.
Hell, I would be.
Because we made a pact long ago. Elite Air was here for pleasure. There were no attachments. The girls we hired were used, and then paid out with rivers of cash. How much honestly didn’t matter. There was more than enough to go around.
But it’s joint possession.
None of the girls “belong” to any of us individually.
They “belong” to the group, like a common good.
So I’d violated the rules. Joanie was supposed to be on the circuit now, banging my buddies as she flew around the United States. Her extended stopover in New York was wrong. Illegitimate. Off limits.
But fuck if I cared. So what were they gonna do?
Make me pay a fine? No prob bro, charge me double. I got more where that came from.
Boot me from Elite Air? Please assholes. I’m one of the founding members. It’s not that easy to vote me off the island.
Take Joanie away from me? Naw, not possible. Finders keepers, and I had her with me in New York now.
Hell yeah.
I was gonna have a ball.
I was gonna make sure she had the time of her life.
Because the brunette’s something special. There’s a sweet air to the girl despite everything that’s happened. Most females we’ve worked with in the past become total hos within hours. They’ve got the make-up spackled on like a clown, extensions clumpy on their heads. They’re all about the cheesy smiles and fake tits, all the while eyeing our wallets.
Hey, I don’t blame them. We don’t mind women who want to make a buck. That’s what we pay them for after all.
But Joanie wasn’t that at all. First, her motivations were completely different. The girl was put in this position because of financial difficulty, not because of choice. College costs an arm and a leg these days, so it was smart to save up before taking on a load of student debt.
Second, the brunette had different aspirations. Yeah, most girls we work with are wannabe actresses and models. And believe it or not, some ladies even want to be porn stars, baring their all to the camera for cash. We don’t judge. We don’t say what’s right and wrong, you live your own life. And if they hit it big, then goodie for them.
But Joanie’s not like that at all. In fact, I don’t think she’s ever considered a career in front of the camera. Instead, this girl wants to be a research scientist, working with mice and rats and god knows what else in a cold, sterile lab. It sounded bad to me, but hey, I have to respect her for it. I have to respect someone who’s willing to put their nose to the grindstone, studying for years and years just to work with test tubes.
Because it’s not easy for a woman. Science is male-dominated, everyone knows that. There isn’t exactly an established path for female chemists, but Joanie wanted to try. She wanted to walk her own way, and we were going to help her do it. How exactly isn’t clear yet, but we’re six CEOs. We can make things happen.
As I mused, big form draped on a couch, the brunette appeared in the doorway. Her hair lay in damp ringlets around those slim shoulders, cheeks rosy and scrubbed clean. Hell, she was insanely beautiful. Ripe and round, dressed in a fluffy white robe.
Patting her hair with a towel, the brunette shot me a smile.
