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She walks up the stairs to board her father’s private jet, and I grab the bag out of the passenger seat before getting out ofit overoff the rain that’s coveredaround Her father has a jumbo private double-decker jet that can sit up to fifty people It’s got white carpet hite leather seats along with broood and gold trim—it looks every bit of the millions of dollars it cost him

“Oh, hello, sir” A bleach-blonde flight attendant who can’t be older than twenty-one greets me with a smile Her brown eyes look uest Would you like a towel to dry off?”

“Where is she?” I ask, ignoring her and getting to the point

“The back suite, sir,” she answers, her eyes falling to my limp dick inside my jeans

“Ask her if she would like sone,” I order

She nods and walks to the back of the plane, pushing open a door I hear the blonde ask, “Would you like a pre-flight drink, ne”

“Yes, please” I hear Blake’s sweet voice Al like She’s quite proud of herself I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees me

“Of course” She closes the door and comes back to me

I pop open a bottle of chane and pour it into a flute Then I remove the clear vial out ofa knife, I stir it around and then wipe it off onit up, I hold it out for the blonde to take

She looks at me wide-eyed They drop to the flute, and she ss nervously, running her hands down her tight black pencil skirt

“Problem?” I ask

“No” She shakes her head “Uh, no, sir” Reaching out, she takes it fro the door open, I hear their exchange “Here you go, Miss Anderson”

“Thank you”

“My pleasure” She closes the door and walks back over to inary piece of hair behind her ear

“You’re fired,” I tell her

“What?” Her wide eyes meet mine “But …”