by Amy Brent
“Shit!”
I threw my closet doors closed and began to dig through my drawers. I pulled out a couple pairs of jeans I owned, along with one pair of fleece-lined leggings I’d purchased accidently online, but that was about it. Even the long-sleeved shirts I had were that see-through material. I’d put that shit on over my brightly-colored bikini tops and the men practically fell at my feet.
And again, not appropriate for an important business trip.
I pulled out my professional tights and threw them on the bed before I grabbed some bras and underwear. I’d definitely have to find stores that were open later on so I could go get some winter-appropriate clothing, but for now I had enough to pack. I folded up my jeans and shoved them into my suitcase, but when I turned around to pick up a pair of underwear I’d dropped, I heard Johnson meow from the corner.
“Don’t you even think about it,” I said.
I heard my cat pounce on the bed before he launched into my suitcase and began pawing at my clothes. He played around with my bra before he grabbed it with his claws and tossed it over the bed, so I picked him up and tossed him onto a pillow.
“I don’t need your help, Johnson. What I need is to go shopping.”
I heard him pounce into my suitcase again, but this time he was clawing at a pair of tights I’d thrown in, no doubt causing damage.
“Damn it, Johnson! Come on!”
I scooped him up in one arm while I pried the tights away from him, and I knew the moment I looked at them I’d have to throw them away. They were ruined—my nicest pair of course—and I groaned before I tossed them in the trash bin.
“So much for those,” I said.
I put Johnson in his crate so I could finish packing. I emptied every single drawer and dug through every single place I could think of that I might have stored clothes in, but when all was said and done I could only piece together four decent outfits suitable for cold weather. I looked over at the clock and clenched my jaw when I realized it was almost 6 PM, and I knew the stores I needed to be open wouldn’t be. I was too late.
“For the love of shit, it’s Miami. No one’s selling cold clothes anyway,” I said aloud.
It was the truth. Even in January, Miami never dipped below 60 degrees. For some people, that might have been cold, but for me it was perfect. I had light leggings and flats to wear on the beach, and I’d throw on a light scarf or a coverall on and let the wind catch it while I walked. Winter was actually my favorite time of year in Miami because the beaches were deserted, and the ocean seemed to reflect a different sort of beauty it didn’t seem to have in the summer.
The waves would be as still as they could be and the sun would reflect off the waters. If you went out at night, you could see the moon and the stars twinkling on the ocean top. For hours, I’d sit in the cool sand and let the cold water lap its tongue over my bare feet, and every night— when airplanes and helicopters would pass over the ocean—I would think about how lucky those bastards were for being able to see the beauty of the ocean from a bird’s eyes view.
One day, I hoped to take the time to enjoy a night time helicopter ride over the ocean myself.
I ripped myself from my trance and looked down at my pathetic suitcase. Only half of it was full with clothes that were actually appropriate for cold weather, but none of them were appropriate for the type of business we would be conducting. It wasn’t Mike’s fault he had broken his leg, but I still wished I’d had more notice. I didn’t get the note on my desk until this afternoon, and I was lucky to have finished my work early so I could get home and pack.
I began grabbing my pencil skirts, blouses, and heels. I folded them nicely into the suitcase before I placed the heels on top, telling myself I’d get my toiletries in the morning. I’d want to take a shower before I got on a God-knows-how-long flight to Finland, but now I didn’t know what I should wear for the flight. I was flying with Ellison James, the owner of the entire fucking company, and something told me he’d probably be flying in a suit.
He’d probably be wearing one of his more expensive suits and living it up in first class, and I bet if I didn’t look as professional as he did, he’d probably leave my ass in the States. So, I laid out a black pencil skirt and a bright yellow top with black heels to match. I grabbed the only coat I had in my possession—a green pea coat I’d bought at a sale just because I could—and laid it out with my outfit. I wouldn’t need that shit flying out of Miami, but I sure as hell would need it when my bare ass legs touched down in Helsinki.
Suddenly, a knock came at my door.
“Coming!” I called out. I zipped up my suitcase full of clothes completely inappropriate for my business trip and rushed to get the door. Maybe it was someone hand-delivering me all the outfits I would need to ace this business trip and I could finally relax.
But, when I threw the door open, the only thing that happened was my heart rate skyrocketed.
“Hey there, beautiful,” Rick said.
Rick, my fucking ex-boyfriend from college, was knocking on my damn door. We’d stayed friends since college, especially since we were the only two from our graduating class who had stayed in Miami afterwards, but he still felt the need to come swooping into my life at the most inopportune moments. My stress level was already through the roof and the last thing I wanted to deal with was a man I couldn’t shrug off.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“See, I knew it. I felt this tingling sensation in my gut that something was wrong, and I figured I’d come check on you,” he said, grinning.
“How wonderful,” I said.
“Whatcha up to?” he asked.
“Packing for a business trip. What are you doing here, Rick?”
“Oh, fun. Where ya headed?”
“Finland. What do you want?” I asked again.
“Finland. Fun. Sounds like someone’s coming up in the world,” he said.
“Which makes one of us,” I said.
“Ouch. That hurt, Charlie. You don’t have to be so mean to a guy who just wanted to check up on you.”
“I highly doubt that’s what you’re here for,” I said.
That was the issue with Rick—we were complete opposites. I was a workaholic who knew exactly what I wanted out of life, and he graduated high school with a general education degree because he didn’t have the forethought to declare a major in college or even dream about a career to strive for. He partied every weekend while I studied, and he couldn’t have cared less about his future. I had pushed myself to every limit both through college and with my career, climbing the ladder to where I was now, and meanwhile, he was still coasting on the bottom rung of every single job he fell into, before eventually being fired for his laziness.
It really was pathetic, but he was the only other person in town that I really knew.
“Since you’re going to Finland, who’s keeping an eye on that guy?” he asked. I followed his finger downward and saw Johnson sitting at my feet, and I rolled my eyes before I picked him up in my arms.
“I really need to get you a new crate,” I said.
“Sounds kinky,” Rick said, smirking.
“Not you, you airhead. Johnson. He keeps getting out of it.”
“So, I ask again, who’s watching the little guy while you’re away?”
“I’ll only be gone for a week,” I said, as I backtracked into my apartment. “I was just gonna put out some food and water and change his litter box before I left.”
“For an entire week?” Rick asked. “Nuh-uh. Let me watch him.”
“Not a chance,” I said, giggling.
“Like you said, you’ll only be gone a week, and someone needs to check up on this cat. I don’t have to stay here and housesit, I’ll just come by to see how he’s doing.”
“I wouldn’t let you housesit anyway. You’d probably rifle through my underwear.”
“Probably,” he said, smirking. “But, then again, maybe not.”
“I’m not giving you a
key to this place,” I said.
“Seriously, Charlie. What if something happens to Johnson? For the love of everything holy and good, he can get out of his crate. What makes you think he won’t find a way out of this apartment?
“Opening a crate and opening a door are two very different things,” I said.
“Then, what if Johnson gets sick? You mean to tell me you’re gonna lock up all your candies and snacks and put away all the sharp things he could get into? Someone really needs to come at least once a day and check up on this guy,” he said.
He did have a point. Leaving food and water out, then letting a cat roam freely was simply me asking for trouble. But, was giving Rick a key to my place really a good idea? I knew which one of the two was least trustworthy.
Did I really have a choice though?
Yes. I did have a choice, and that choice was trusting my cat or finding a last-minute kennel.
“I’m good, Rick. But, thanks,” I said.
“I’m really good at stuff like this. I animal-sit all the time for other people in the area.”
“Well, get me your references before tomorrow morning and I’ll consider it,” I said.
“Seriously?” he asked.
“No, now get out. I have to finish packing,” I said.
“We could really make a good team here, Charlie,” he said.
“Rick, don’t start. I let you in my apartment, just leave it at that,” I said.
“But you’re a hardworking woman who needs help! I could watch the cat and keep up with the place while you’re gone, and then you could come home from your business trip and tell me all about it while I massaged your feet after being in those monstrous heels all day.”
“Goodbye, Rick,” I said.
“Just think about it, alright? I’m serious! You really could have it all!”
I shoved him out the door and locked it before I turned around and pressed my back into it. I would just have to take tonight to make sure everything was put away and locked up so Johnson would stay safe. There was no kennel within 15 minutes that would take a cat like him last minute, and I didn’t have the time to call around and figure out if any of the surrounding cities had one.
It would just be easier if I took the time to lockdown my apartment right.
“You’re gonna be alright here by yourself, aren’t ya, little guy?” I asked. I rubbed Johnson behind his ears and he purred so well for me, and as I walked us back into my room my mind began to swirl with the impending travel plans of tomorrow.
And the panic I felt before started churning again in my gut.
Chapter 3
Ellison
I walked up to the woman standing at the traveling kiosk and flashed my best smile. The twinkling in her eyes illuminated her face, which went well with her tiny waist accentuated so nicely by her uniform. I slid my I.D. across the counter while she pulled up my travel plans. I felt more grounded than I did yesterday after talking with Mike, and the packing had become somewhat therapeutic. I had turned my mind over to the financial tasks at hand and memorized all the important numbers before I fell asleep last night, then I recited them back to myself in the shower before I headed for the airport this morning.
Unlike most men in my position, I traveled comfortably. I had on a pair of relaxed jeans and a black shirt, and was carrying a sweater and coat I could pull on once we were dropped into Finland. I checked my main suitcase and told the beautiful woman with the sparkling smile I’d be carrying on my suits, and she obliged happily before she handed me my ticket.
I looked behind me to see if I could see Charlene, and for a split second I thought I’d made a mistake when I didn’t see her. It was two hours before our flight was supposed to take off and the security line was as long as my cock, which meant we’d be fucking standing in line for a while. Even with bypassing most of the crowd after getting pre-checked, it would still take us almost an hour to clear it, then we’d have to book it across the whole fucking airport to get to our plane.
But, I heard a familiar voice ring over at the regular traveling kiosk line, and my eyes fell upon those tits that had taken hours to erase from the recesses of my mind.
Charlene obviously didn’t travel comfortably. I watched her check a suitcase while she carried on her laptop bag, which told me she didn’t travel much. If that suitcase got lost, she’d have nothing to wear except what she had on, which was nowhere near appropriate for Finland weather this time of year. She donned a bright yellow top that pulled against those voluptuous tits of hers and the black pencil skirt she wore teased my cock as it rounded down her thick ass.
And holy fuck, the way her heels flexed her calves practically made me want to drool all over my damn shirt.
“Mr. James?” the woman asked. “Is everything alright with your ticket?”
“Yes, yes it is,” I said, turning back to the kiosk. “But, my flight partner is over there. Does she not have a first class ticket?”
“The woman in the yellow blouse? Do you know her name?” she asked.
“Charlene Simpson,” I said.
“Nope. It looks as if she’s got an economy ticket.”
“Was the ticket first class beforehand?” I asked.
“Mr. Jeffries’ ticket?” she asked. “Yes. Yes, it was. I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what happened. Would you like me to upgrade her back to first class?”
“Yes, and put it on my card, please,” I said. I had half a mind to tell her I wasn’t paying for the re-upgrade to the seat, but Charlene bent over in my vision and it gave me a quick glimpse of her cleavage. She obviously made it a point to keep it covered, which meant two very important things. One, she knew how to keep shit professional, and two, it meant she knew the type of body she was hiding underneath those clothes.
I watched as the woman over in the regular line flagged Charlene down and I pulled out my work phone and slid over so the other people behind me could get to the desk. I watched the woman print off another ticket for her, and the look of confusion on Charlene’s face was priceless. She turned back to the woman and it gave me another glimpse of that beautiful, round ass she carried behind her, and I felt my cock already straining against my jeans.
It was gonna be a long fucking flight.
I went on over and bypassed most people through security, just so I could get ahead of her and get her off my mind. I had more important things to keep at the forefront of my brain than how long her legs looked in those heels. But, when we finally boarded the plane, I realized the mistake I had made.
When I had the agent change the ticket, I didn’t request that she sit my coworker away from me.
“Mr. James,” she said.
I looked up into those piercing green eyes and, for a split second, I lost my breath. They sparkled with her smile and her red hair fell in her face, forcing her to crinkle her nose and wiggle those beautiful freckles. I had to fight the urge to push her hair back from her face, and I was thankful when she ignored my gaze and kept talking.
“I take it you’re the one responsible for my upgrade?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m not sure what happened. Something must have gotten mixed up when I had my secretary switch the name on the ticket,” I said.
“Well, thank you. I’ve never ridden first class before,” she said.
“Welcome to first class, then,” I said, smiling.
As she placed her laptop bag in the overhead compartment, I could’ve sworn I felt her body heat radiate over me. If she bent forward any more, her nipples would graze my ear, and I wasn’t so sure I could keep my hands to myself if that happened. I had only seen her in passing in the office, but holy fuck she was sexy as hell up close.
“I’m so sorry, let me just scoot on into my seat,” she said.
I made no effort to move my legs while hers brushed against mine, and I had to bite back a growl while she was temporarily straddling me. I relaxed my legs and made her step over my knees, and for a split second I thought I could smell her s
cent wafting from between her legs. I smirked at the thought of making her wet, and wondered if she would let me swirl my fingers in her milkiness just to see if I could pull more from her body.
“So sorry,” she said breathlessly.
“Not a problem. Sometimes, even first class doesn’t have enough leg room,” I said. “However, I would like to go over the meeting during the flight since you probably haven’t had time to prep.”
“Oh good, I was actually hoping we would have some prep time,” she said.
“I’ll take the lead, so there isn’t much for you to do directly, except to take notes and volley questions. The old investors won’t be there for the information, but this is the first time in company history that we’ll have as many new investors showing up as we do. That means you’ll need to know our sales numbers dating back ten years, as well as basic information on the newer products you have coming out.”
“Something tells me Mike broke his leg on purpose,” she said, smirking.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“Because Mike doesn’t like numbers, just money,” she said.
“He says he broke his leg falling down the stairs, but I think he broke it trying to keep his balance during a fun little session with his girlfriend.”
