Handsome. Intelligent. Wealthy.
Great in bed with the body of a Greek God.
Just the mention of my name has women dropping their panties.
I'm one of the city's most eligible bachelors and women line up just to get a taste of me. I work hard to make millions during the day, and play hard at night.
Frumpy, overweight and average-looking is not my type. I like beautiful, thin women with tight bodies and an even tighter- well, you know what I'm getting at.
That's why the mysterious woman from my health club who swims laps every morning should not hold my interest. She's the exact opposite of what turns me on, yet I can't take my eyes off her.
She's intriguing... She's fascinating... And she's quickly becoming my obsession.
I can't learn enough about her.
I'm used to getting exactly what I want...
…and now I want her.
Goodreads Link - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22707299-lane-one
If I were able to define beauty it would be simple. I'd just have to say her name. The way she smiles at the simplest of things, or the way she crinkles her nose when she doesn't like something. There's beauty in her laugh, her love of children, her kindness towards others, and her painful past full of despair and heartache. The pain she hides from the rest of the world is the most beautiful of all. It makes me want to protect her until my last breath. If the world got to see what I see every day, she would no longer be just mine. Every man who was lucky enough to be in her presence would want her.
"Can I get you anything else, sir?"
The fasten seat belt light flickers off, letting me know that it's okay to move around the plane cabin after the long stretch of turbulence ends. I stand up, stretching my legs out in front of my first class seat. There are two hours left on this eight-hour flight to London and I'm already itching to get back to Chicago.
"No, thanks," I reply, brushing past the petite woman and making my way to the small lavatory located in first class. It's unoccupied so I squeeze myself inside and lock the door behind me.
After relieving myself of the several cups of coffee I've consumed on the flight, I zip up my pants and wash my hands in the tiny sink, briefly glancing at my appearance in the mirror.
The man staring back at me looks worn out and fucking old as shit.
I've noticed the subtle changes in my appearance these past couple weeks and at first I thought I was going crazy. I was convinced I was seeing things that weren't there, but when the first few gray hairs started to appear near my temples, I couldn't pretend to imagine it anymore. The stress of everything having to do with her has made me age.
I hate leaving her, even for these little trips where I'm gone for less than forty-eight hours. Although I've hired the best team around, I don't trust the care she's under. If I'm not there to supervise the daily schedule, I live in fear that someone will make a mistake or mess up, and I'll be forced to live the rest of my life without her.
A life without her is not a life I'm willing to live.
I press down on the faucet and cup my hands, letting them fill with water before splashing my face. The cool water is refreshing against my skin, and in an odd way makes me feel slightly better and more awake. As I'm drying my face there is a knock on the lavatory door. I toss the paper towel in the garbage and unlock the door, ready to go back to my seat but instead someone walks in.
"Are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you, sir?" the eager flight attendant asks. I've always had this effect on women and even though I look the worst I've ever appeared, apparently women still want me.
She's looking up at me, her eyes coated in heavy make-up. She can't be older than twenty. Her button up flight attendant top is open, revealing her perky, young breasts and while her offer might have been something I would have considered a while back, it's no longer a desire of mine when I'm in the right mindset.
She clicks the lock behind her and moves towards me in the confined space. The small toilet is pushing against the back of my legs so I have nowhere to move. Her firm chest brushes against mine as the palm of her hand slides against my stomach and lowers to the front of my trousers. She rubs the small palm of her hand up and down, attempting to get a reaction from my cock. I'm too stunned at the moment to stop her, too tired to think straight.
"I can be very helpful," she offers.
She undoes the button of my pants and slowly unzips them, lowering them past my hips. She places her delicate hands over my cock again and begins to stroke me over my boxer briefs.
It's been so long since I've been touched. I can't remember ever going this long without my dick receiving some kind of attention from the opposite sex. I need to stay focused. I need to remember why I'm here, why I'm on this plane. I run on a strict schedule. I like my detailed to-do lists and today's list is an easy one. There are just four simple steps.
*Go to London
*Sign the necessary paperwork needed at my business meeting
*Get my ass back on the plane to Chicago
*Go see my girl and make sure those incompetent assholes don't fuck up while I'm away
I'll be home in less than forty-eight hours. I can get through forty-eight fucking hours.
As I'm repeating the words over in my head I almost forget about the young woman in front of me until I feel my cock stir to life. Warmth spreads through my body and the desire to fuck something so I can come suddenly takes over my thoughts.
I look down at my dick but can only see the fiery, red hair of the flight attendant as she pulls my boxers down and devours my cock with her mouth.
Fuck me. That feels incredible.
I forgot how nice a soft set of lips and a warm mouth can feel around my cock.
As soon as I think it, a visual of the argumentative, fun-loving brunette I love pops into my head and I groan in agony instead of satisfaction. The redhead takes this as encouragement and she gently bites down on my long, hard length before dragging her teeth up to the head and sucking the tip. As great as it feels, I'm forced to push her off of me. She falls back against the door and I quickly zip myself back up while looking at her stunned face.
She's pretty, gorgeous really, but she's not her. No one will ever come close to her.
"That was sweet of you to offer, but I'm afraid I'm a one woman man."
"I can be discreet. No one will know," she whispers huskily.
"And I don't like repeating myself. You're a young woman who probably has more to offer a man than a blowjob in the lavatory of first class. You should focus on your job, while I focus on getting back in my seat. Excuse me."
I gesture towards the door and wait for her to stand up and adjust her clothing. She unlocks it and steps out of the small, enclosed space. I follow behind her to go back to my seat. The large leather seat is comfortable and I recline back, shutting my eyes to try and forget what just happened.
Forty-eight hours. I just need to get through the next forty-eight hours.
I am an avid reader. I love so many different genres of books and began publishing my own stories in 2013. Writing is my release and I love to share the stories in my head with you. When I'm not writing I'm spending time with my children. *I love the idea of love. *Chocolate is my kryptonite. *I want my own HEA. *Rainstorms bring me peace. *Sleep is overrated. *I love alpha males. *Apple rules my life. Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/justineelvira Website: http://justineelvira.blogspot.com/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/justineelvira Facebook: www.facebook.com/justineelvirabooks