Page 16 of Sex, Lust & Lingerie

CHAPTER 12

Gloria

“Good morning, everyone. This is your captain. We’ll be making our descent into Los Angeles shortly.”

Los Angeles?The City of Angels. Had I died and gone to heaven? I peeled my eyes open, one at a time. Sunlight trickled through two small oval windows and made me squint. In my totally disoriented state, it took me a long second to figure out where I was. I was on Jaime’s Zander’s private plane, half-undressed, in a comfy bed tucked under a duvet with a seatbelt secured around my abdomen. I ached everywhere. My chest felt like it had been sledgehammered; my insides felt torn, and my limbs felt bruised. Spinning, my eyes landed on my black leggings and ballet flats strewn on the carpeted floor. The memories of last night’s extreme turbulence and that turbulent fuck with Jaime came crashing at me like an avalanche. It all felt like a surreal dream.

Jaime Zander’s intoxicating scent engulfed me. My eyes darted to the fluffy pillow next to mine. Scrunched up, it had definitely been slept on. But where the hell was he? Of course… while I was crashed out, the plane dropped him off in New York. Wait! Did I sleep through a landing and takeoff? Was I really almost in LA? Shit! I’d better get up, showered, and dressed.

I undid the seatbelt and pulled my sweater, the one item of clothing still on my body, up over my head. God was I sore, especially my breasts. As I slid it off my arms, the door to the cabin swung open.

“Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well?”

My jaw dropped. It was Jaime! As sinfully sexy as ever. Dressed in a fresh pair of gray sweats that hung dangerously low on his lean hips and his torso bare. My eyes traveled down his perfectly chiseled arms—the arms that had carried me to safety. He was carrying a steaming mug, the tantalizing aroma clearly that of coffee.

I painfully bolted to a sitting position, clutching the duvet to my chest to cover up my now fully naked body. Where I really wanted it was over my head. Mortification raced through my bloodstream. He had seen me at my ultimate worse. A basket case. I was the disaster waiting to happen—not the plane. My sleepy eyes averted the piercing gaze of his beautiful blue eyes. Wearing a cheerful grin, he loped my way.

“I thought you might like some coffee. I had it made just the way you like it—lots of cream.”

I greedily grabbed the mug out of his hand and wasted no time putting the steamy contents to my lips. I was in major need of a caffeine fix.

“Hey, don’t I get a thank you?”

“Thanks.” I flung the word at him with a wrinkle of my nose.

“You’re so cute when you make faces.”

Inside, I was steaming like the coffee. He was so deliberately exasperating. At least, he didn’t want to talk about last night.

After another sip of the delicious brew, it was back to business with this cocky Casanova though my heart was pounding. “What are you still doing here?”

Chewing his bottom lip, he hesitated a bit. “I have a client to see in Los Angeles.”

My insides rattled. The one he called “babe” on the phone? Or one of the buxom flight attendants?

“And then I thought, I could spend some time with you and get more familiar with your product line.”

Shoving my suspicions to the back of my mind, I huffed a breath. Fine. As long as he didn’t want to get more familiar with me, I was okay with a meeting. I was about to say—“I’ll have my assistant Vivien set up something”—but caught myself just in time. I didn’t want his venomous stepsister to have anything to do with him. She’d hurt him enough and on my end, she couldn’t be trusted. “I’ll check my calendar and set up a time. You can come over to our headquarters, and I’ll give you a tour.”

He smiled sheepishly. “That would be perfect. I’m really looking forward to getting my hands on that new BDSM line of lingerie.”

And his hands on me? Stop, it Gloria!I needed to figure out this complicated relationship. The events of last night had set me back. Was I going to let him fuck me as we moved forward? I knew what my mind was thinking and I knew what my body was thinking. For once, couldn’t they both agree?

Mulling the future, I sipped the hot coffee. While each sip re-activated my brain, clarity still eluded me. My eyes stayed fixed on his gorgeousness as he ambled over to a closet. When he reappeared, a white T-shirt was folded over a toned arm. I couldn’t get my eyes off him as he slipped the tee over his head. His pumped-up biceps flexed, and the chiseled muscles of his chest stretched and rippled, that perfect pelvic-V spreading into those washboard abs. I watched, mesmerized, as his sexy as sin face with its layer of dark stubble and crown of mussed chestnut hair emerged through the neck opening. God, why did he have to be so drop dead gorgeous? His gaze met mine as he tucked the shirt into his sweats. My sex was throbbing, and his cockiness knew it.

“I need to take a shower,” I said after I downed the last ounce of my coffee.

“Make yourself at home. It’s over there.” He pointed to a door opposite the closet.

Carefully holding the duvet around me like a toga, I slid out of the bed. Under Jaime’s smug, watchful gaze, I stood up and took my first steps. For the first time, I discovered how really sore I was from that turbulent sex. Every muscle in my body pulsed with pain. I felt like I’d been run over by a bulldozer. Slowly and stiffly, I headed toward the bathroom. The stickiness between my legs didn’t help.

Jaime broke out into a bellow of laughter.

“Stop it!” I hissed without turning to look back at him. He didn’t. My blood was curdling. I was glad he couldn’t see my scrunched up face. It wasn’t a pretty picture. I clutched the duvet tightly as I continued my walk of shame.

The bathroom was, as I expected, state-of-the art, all creamy rich travertine and brass with high-end fixtures and appliances. An abundant pile of fluffy orange and white towels was stacked on a built-in shelf. Letting the duvet fall to the floor, I stepped into the shower stall after first turning on the water and adjusting the temperature; I deliberately made it extra hot, hoping the steaming water would obliterate my aches. I closed the glass door behind me and positioned myself directly under the showerhead. The powerful hot spray pounded on my aching back, massaging the pain away. Grabbing a large sponge, I put it between my sore thighs and washed away the remains of last night. My sensitive folds throbbed beneath my touch. No matter how much I washed, I still felt him inside me. Pulsing, pushing me to the edge. The hum of the plane as it cruised through the air intensified the sensations.

I moved on to the rest of my body. I was shocked by how many bruises were scattered on my torso and my limbs. He had given me fucking, bruising, turbulent sex. Bastard! I hoped he looked all the worse. I was about to find out.

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