Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
A pretty brunette flight attendant smiles at us. “No luggage?” she asks since we just have our purses.
I shake my head, and she waves for us to come aboard.
Mom walks up ahead of me. I trail behind so I can wave at Dare one last time before I disappear inside the cabin.
The interior has a black, gray, and silver color scheme. The flight attendant shows me and Mom to our seats and says we’ll have to buckle in for takeoff like we would on a regular flight, but once we’re in the air, we’ll be free to roam around. She asks if we’d like anything to drink and tells us we’ll have brunch in a couple of hours.
It feels strange to have the whole plane to ourselves, but I’m so much more comfortable flying with Mom this way. I’m not sure if we have to on a private plane, but I put my phone on airplane mode to prepare for take-off just in case.
Once we’re in the air, the flight attendant comes over to tell us we can unbuckle. Everything is so much more laidback and unofficial than a plane packed full of people with lights overhead that do most of the communicating.
“Since brunch won’t be for a couple of hours, would you like a bowl of fresh fruit for breakfast?” the flight attendant asks.
I glance over at Mom. She nods eagerly and tells her, “Sure.”
She invites us to come with her. We walk past a living room area with a long black leather couch in front of a television. There are cozy looking fur blankets draped over it.
We have some fruit and bottled water, and take a tour of the spacious cabin. There’s a bedroom with its own private bathroom and a plane seat in the other corner. If Mom’s feeling tired after the appointment, she could have a nap in here, and I could sit there and keep an eye on her.
“Would you like your hot stone massages now, or later?” the flight attendant asks.
“Our hot stone massages?”
She smiles and nods. “Mr. Darington thought they would help you both relax before your mom’s appointment.”
I look over at Mom. She looks back. “An angel,” she says emphatically.
I chuckle and tell the flight attendant, “I guess we’ll have those now.”
Chapter thirty-two
Dare
The necklace Anae wants is not exactly what I was expecting.
Typically, Anae likes statement pieces. She likes bold and expensive.
This isn’t cheap, but it’s surprisingly delicate and feminine for her tastes. If I were picking out a gift for her, I would never look twice at this.
Aubrey, however, I could see wearing this. I could see it on her when she wears one of her cute little dresses or short skirts. Something girly and flirty that I could shove up before I drive my cock into her.
I imagine how she’d look lying across my bed with the thin chain wrapped around her delicate throat, my cock jammed in her pussy. I picture grabbing her throat, tempting the delicate chain to break as I squeeze and she cries out.
“Can I help you with something, sir?”
“Yes,” I tell the saleslady, pointing to the necklace with the diamond rose pendant in the jewelry case. “I want this.”
While the saleslady grabs the necklace and walks over to the register, my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket.
“Hey, baby. I was just thinking about you,” I say when I answer.
The saleslady flicks a curious glance my way. I ignore her and draw out my credit card.
“How’d your mom’s appointment go?”
The saleslady quietly reads me the total and I pop my card in the reader.
On the other line, Aubrey talks a million miles a minute about the appointment. She tells me the guy I sent her to is amazing and seems so hooked up. She tells me he thinks her mom is a really good candidate for a clinical trial that’s starting soon and they’re really hopeful about it. There are only 20 spots available, but if her mom wants one—and they can afford it, of course—she’s got it.
That’s how it usually works with this guy, so I’m not surprised. In my world, the best kept secrets are often pay-to-play, and even then, you have to know the right people to open those doors.
“That’s great news,” I tell her.
“Can I tell him she’s in? I know you said you’d pay for whatever, but she’ll have to travel back and forth a few times, we may even have to stay here for some of it, and there’s a ‘referral fee’ that doesn’t feel super ethical, but…”
“Of course. Whatever she needs, tell him I’ll take care of it. He knows my family, he knows we’re good for it.”
“Thank you, Dare. Thank you so, so much.”
I smile faintly and mouth thank you to the saleslady as she hands me the little white Dior bag. “Of course, baby. I’m glad the appointment went the way you wanted.”