Hooker(11)

I look away from the man, and back to Snickers. She’s peeping at me over the top of the magazine. At least she’s turned it up the right way now. I chuckle when she quickly hides behind it again.

The waitress returns with my drink and credit card sitting on a small black tray. ‘Thank you,’ I say with an appreciative smile as I reach for them.

‘Any time, handsome,’ she replies with a wink as she bends, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage. Pulling a small piece of paper out of her bra, she hands it to me. ‘Look me up next time you’re in town.’

I’m used to women throwing themselves at me. Believe me, it gets old fast. For once I’d like someone to look past my physical appearance, or my bank account, for that matter. There’s a lot more to me than good looks and money.

Settling back into my chair, I savour the burn of the fine malt whisky as it slides down the back of my throat. My eyes are again fixed on Snickers over the brim of my glass. She’s still hiding behind that bloody magazine, so I use this time to check out the rest of her.

I glimpse a hint of red lace underneath her white jacket. It makes my cock stir. She’s got a fine rack on her. By the size of them, I’m guessing they’re fake. My gaze moves down her long, lean legs. Damn she’s sexy. I’d love to see her wearing nothing but those sexy-as-fuck red heels. Christ. Why did I let my mind go there? Adjusting my crotch, I close the laptop. My work can wait. Looking at her is far more entertaining.



‘First call for flight 607 to New York. We are now boarding all first-class passengers travelling on flight 607 to New York. Please make your way to departure gate 39.’

That’s my flight.

As I’m packing my laptop back into the leather case, from the corner of my eye I see Snickers stand. Interesting. I decide to stay seated, so I can watch her leave. My eyes meet hers briefly. When she gives me a shy smile, I reciprocate with a wink. My lips curve up when I see her eyes widen and her face flush red. I love her timidity. The women I’m used to aren’t backwards in coming forwards, that’s for sure. They’re not afraid to go after what they want.

Once she passes me, my gaze moves down her long dark hair before landing on her arse. Fuck me, what an arse. The intoxicating swing of her hips has me hypnotised. And those legs. They go on for days. I’d love nothing more than to have them wrapped around me.

A loud grunt beside me breaks me from my trance. When I look up, I meet the hardened eyes of her gentleman friend as he follows closely behind her. He takes a step to the right, blocking my view as he walks. Prick.

I wait a few more minutes before going to the departure gate. I find myself hoping that she’s seated near me in first class. It will make for an interesting flight. That’s if her shadow doesn’t interfere.

After handing my boarding pass to the flight attendant, I make my way along the corridor. ‘Welcome aboard, Mr Weston,’ another flight attendant says as I enter the plane. Snickers is the first person I see when I round the corner. Her eyes are closed. When I get closer I notice she has earbuds in her ears and her perfectly manicured fingers are tapping on the armrest to the beat of the music.

Her shadow is sitting beside her and gives me a dirty look as I pass. What’s his problem? His attitude is really starting to get under my skin. I’m seated two rows behind Snickers, but on the opposite aisle. After I stow my laptop in the overhead compartment, I take my seat. I can only see part of her shoulder and her hand from here. Such a shame. I could easily spend the next twenty-one hours admiring her beauty.

I watch the leggy blonde flight attendant make her way down the aisle. She’s a real looker. If Snickers wasn’t sitting only a few feet away I’d be all over that. The thought actually surprises me. I’ve never let another woman get in the way of what I’ve wanted in the past. Never.

I listen intently when the attendant approaches Snickers. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Davis … Mr Henderson,’ she says with a pleasant smile. ‘I’m Clara, your attendant, for the duration of the flight. Could I get you something to drink while we wait for the other passengers to board?’

When I hear the word ‘Miss’ I’m smiling again. Fuck, what is this woman doing to me? I’d prefer a first name, but Miss Davis is better than Snickers, I guess.

Clara makes her way down the rest of the aisle before stopping in front of me. ‘Mr Weston,’ she says, and gives me the same spiel she gave the other passengers.

‘I’ll have a scotch on the rocks, please. Do you have any Snickers bars?’

Her face screws up slightly at my question. ‘I can check for you, sir.’