Page 27 of Shes my 1 Try

Checking my phone, I haven’t heard from Wiley in a few hours. I know she said she had a big job to do, but I miss her cute texts. The ones she sends me of her pulling faces telling me about her day. I miss the sexier ones even more. God, but that woman has a dirty fucking mouth on her. I fucking love it.

I shove the phone away and rifle through my backpack in search of the book I bought on a whim. Some sexy romance thing, I heard Wiley and her friend Ines talking about when I called her one day. Wiley can talk footy with me till the cows come home, and I love that she understands the game. I don’t get makeup, at all. The things she mentions, concealer, primer, and fixing spray. I’m not sure I ever will. But I can read a book. In fact, it was something I enjoyed when I was younger. Maybe not a ripping romance as Ines yelled down the line at me, but it’s something I can do to be more a part of Wiley’s world.

Opening the book to chapter four, I settle back and start reading, when an announcement comes over the intercom system.

“Calling Mr Asher Scott. That’s Mr Asher Scott. Please come to the desk for flight UA842.”

As the announcement repeats, I grab my bag and head to the desk, but I have to walk past Tyler to get there.

“Looks like the whole world knows you’re a bastard and they’re gonna kick you off this flight,” he jokes, laughing, pleased with himself.

“More like they want me to confirm how much of a fuckwit you are,” I bite back, and keep walking, reaching the desk. “Ah, hi. I’m Asher Scott. You just called me to come over.”

“Yes, hello,” a woman with the name tag Ursula, smiles at me. “I’ve got some great news for you, Mr Scott. You’ve been upgraded.”

Is it terrible of me that I want to rub that in Tyler’s face? Probably, but then the thought occurs to me that I might be stuck sitting next to him for the next sixteen hours. “Wow, that’s great, thanks. But can I ask one favour? Please don’t sit me next to the asshole in the grey hoodie over there.” Jerking my thumb over my shoulder in his direction, Ursula looks that way, and I swear she smirks.

“Not going to be an issue, Mr Scott. You’re actually being upgraded to first-class.” Ursula’s laugh must mean I’m pulling a face, right? I have to have heard her wrong.

“Can you repeat that?”

“Follow me, Mr Scott.” She waves me across to a door. “Let’s get you settled in your private cabin.”

“That’s it, kick his nasty ass off the plane,” Tyler calls out, the other passengers looking at me like I’m some kind of leper.

“You enjoy your premium economy, Wannek,” I call back, my inner asshole grinning like a fool. “I won’t be thinking about you from my first-class cabin.”

As the door shuts, I can hear Tyler cursing up a storm, and it makes my fucking day. Not that getting upgraded isn’t awesome. But pissing him off is pretty damn good.

“Um…not to complain, but why am I being upgraded to first-class?” I follow behind Ursula as we take a set of stairs and head down the jetway to the plane.

“When you get to your cabin, I’m sure things will make more sense,” she says cryptically, and all I can do is follow her onto the plane. “And here we are. Let me stow your bag for you.”

When she said private cabin, I thought she meant one of those cubicle things where your seat turns into a bed. Holy hell, this is way beyond anything I imagined. Each space is its own self-contained cabin, with the best of everything. Luxury leather seating that I assume turns into a bed. Cushions that feel like a damn cloud, a tablet for work or watching T.V. even my own window.

“I’ll be back later to show you how to convert your seat into a bed, Mr Scott. Please, make yourself comfortable. Champagne is coming around, and we’ll be departing within the next forty minutes.” Before I can ask her how this happened again, she’s gone, down the thin aisle between all the cabins and out of sight.

There is every chance I’ve fallen asleep in the departure lounge, drool dribbling down my chin. I mean, how often do you get upgraded to first-class? However it happened, I step into the cabin and slide the door shut. I’m able to stand to my full height and turn in a complete circle, checking everything out. After a moment, I pick my jaw up off the floor and sit in the extra wide seat and spot a curious thing sitting on the small shelf to the side. A present, perfectly wrapped with a red ribbon on it. Is this what Ursula meant when she said it would make more sense? If so, she was so wrong. This makes it even more confusing.

Reaching for the present, I spot a tag and turn it over to see just the letter A on it. I’m intrigued even more now and carefully undo the ribbon. I prise the lid off and pull back the tissue paper and lose my jaw to the floor again.

Staring up at me is a photograph of Wiley in nothing but the Dingoes jersey she wore to my game. Her hair is over one shoulder, wild and wavy, and she’s kneeling on a bed. I take the photo from the box, and find there’s more than one. Flicking through each one, she’s managed to capture the barest peek of her ass cheeks and the underside of her breasts. Each photo sensual and fucking sexy as hell. My cock is hard as fuck and I want to murder whoever took these photos for seeing her like this. The last one is by far my favourite.

Naked and laying prone on the bed, she’s used the jersey to cover some of her body and I want to be that fucking jersey so bad. Holding the photo in one hand, I grip my cock with the other, rubbing it up and down and wondering if it’s still classed as joining the mile high club when you do it solo, and the plane is still on the ground.

On cue, the pilot announces we’re ready for take-off and the screen in front of me turns on with a safety message and video. Thank god no one comes around to check that I’ve got my seatbelt on, because that would be awkward with the hard-on I’m packing. The sounds of the plane gearing up for take-off echo through the cabin, but all I can think about is Wiley and I pull my phone out, sending off a message.

Asher

You’re fucking naughty

I’m not sure how long it will take her to respond, but as the plane taxis down the runway, her profile pic pops up, and the three dots bounce on the screen.

Wiley

Oh? Why’s that?

Asher

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