Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“That was almost catastrophic.”
Connor lifts an eyebrow.
“My Kindle.” I wave it in front of him. “I’m going to read to you later.”
“Is that so?”
I laugh and slip the device into my computer bag. “Sure, why not? This one is spicy.”
“Is it the unhinged hockey player?”
“No, I finished that one. And unhinged doesn’t even begin to describe that guy. It was hot as fuck.”
Connor barks out a laugh, and I grin at him.
“You have a great laugh.”
He smiles and lifts my hand to his lips, and we sit in relative silence on the short drive to the airport.
I rode on Connor’s private jet earlier this summer when he took our whole family to London to watch Skyla and Mik dance for the coronation of the new king and queen, so I’m not new to private flying, but it’s still exciting.
This plane is wow. The opulence is incredible, with rich, buttery leather seats, televisions, tables to eat or work on, and a bedroom with a king-sized bed in the back of the plane. The bathroom has a full shower.
I take a seat in the middle of the plane, set my bag on the seat next to me, my sweatshirt on the other side of me, and sigh in happiness.
“Are you comfortable, then?”
I grin at my billionaire. “Hell yes, I am. I’m spreading out. Don’t even think about trying to crowd me.”
“I’ll sit across from you,” he replies with a smirk, watching me. He’s in navy slacks and a white button-down, which is his work-casual look when he doesn’t go with a full suit. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and the muscles and veins in his forearms make me salivate. “What are you looking at, angel?”
“Your arms,” I reply honestly. “They do things to me.”
His eyebrow lifts in surprise. “What kinds of things?”
“Sexy things.” I bite my lip just as Miller climbs on board and walks between us toward the back of the plane, and I grin at Connor.
The flight crew is already here. The pilots are in the cockpit, the door open as the flight attendant prepares us for the flight. I don’t like how she keeps looking at my man. She’s probably thirty-ish, pretty with blond hair tucked back in a low bun, her slim figure showcased in a red uniform.
She glances over at Connor and licks her lower lip, and just like that, I’ve had enough.
“Be right back.” I stand and cross over to her. “Hello, I’m Billie.”
“Oh, hi.” Her smile is as fake as my acrylic fingernails. “How can I help you?”
“What’s your name?”
“Uh.” She frowns and glances over my shoulder, but I block her view of Connor. “I’m Bethany.”
“Are you new, Bethany? Or have you worked on one of Mr. Gallagher’s flights before?”
“This is my first flight with this crew.” Her face has gone to stone. She doesn’t like me.
That’s okay because I now don’t like her either.
“Listen, Bethany, I’m going to need you to stop eye-fucking my man. We have a long flight ahead of us, and I find it incredibly unprofessional that we’ve been on board for roughly six minutes, and you already have him down to his skivvies in your brain. So here’s how it’s going to work. Either you keep it professional or we replace you. What do you think?”
“I … I didn’t … I’m so sorry that you thought—”
“What’s it going to be, Bethany?”
“Of course, I’ll be completely professional.”
“Great.” I give her a toothy smile. “I appreciate it. Whenever you have a moment, I’d love some ginger ale, please. Sometimes my tummy gets a little off from the bumps.”
I wink at her and return to my seat, and Connor is lounged back in his seat, his hand over his mouth, watching me with hot, intense eyes.
“I didn’t like that,” I inform him.
“I heard,” he replies. “Come here, angel.”
Without hesitation, I move across the aisle, and Connor tugs me into his lap, cups my face, and kisses the hell out of me.
When I come up for air, I rest my forehead against his.
“What was that for?”
“I love your backbone,” he growls against my lips.
“She was being rude, and she’s an employee. That doesn’t fly, no pun intended.”
He smiles, then brushes his lips over mine again, gently this time, as if he’s soaking me in.
“I always want you to speak up for yourself.”
“Good.” I kiss his chin. “Because I will.”
“The cabin door is closed, and we’re getting ready to take off,” the pilot says through the speaker. “Should be a smooth five-hour flight to New York City this evening. There might be a few bumps as we climb to our cruising altitude of thirty-six thousand feet, but we’ll be quick getting through them. Enjoy your flight, Mr. Gallagher and Miss Blackwell.”
“I’d better get buckled in.” But instead of moving off his lap, I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him close, bury my nose in his neck and breathe him in. His arms tighten around me, and he whispers in my ear.