Page 7 of Dirty Roxie
Roxie
Ronan gently shakes me awake.
I open my eyes slowly and wipe the drool from my chin.
“We’re about ready to begin our descent. You’ll want to buckle up.”
“Already? I feel like we just took off.” I straighten my tank and run my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t even have time to fully enjoy the private plane.”
Ronan smiles softly. I expect him to remind me it’s a jet. Instead he asks, “What would you have done differently?”
I shrug. “Not sure. Raided the minibar. Played Guitar Hero. Used that cool shower in the back.”
“Perhaps on the way back.”
“Perhaps.” I start to buckle in. “Hey, do you think I can use the restroom really quick? Will I get in trouble?”
He looks at me, and for just a moment, I feel foolish. Because this guy is good at setting me off balance and I kind of hate that about him.
“No, of course not. Duh. You own the plane. Okay, fancy pants, don’t let them land until I’m back.”
It’s the money, it’s got to be. The money intimidates me and being intimidated throws me off balance. But, I mean, it would throw anyone off balance, not just me. And this isn’t just normal rich. This is wealth. Obscene wealth. The man owns a fuckingjet.
I lock myself in the restroom. It’s bigger than the one in my apartment. Nicer too. I splash some cold water on my face, then pee, just because I want to see if the toilet feels any different from a regular one. It doesn’t. I wash my hands with the fancy soap and dry them on the softest towel I’ve ever felt. I take a moment to run it along my cheek. Like kitten fur on the edges of a dandelion.
I wipe the water from the sink’s edge and head back to my seat. Ronan is on the phone arguing with someone in Russian. At least, I think it’s Russian. I wonder what other languages he speaks.
He doesn’t even glance at me as I take the seat across the table from him again and buckle myself in. His expression is fierce and his tone cold. He’s not happy with whomever he is talking to. Ronan disconnects the call with a jerk of his hand and tosses the phone to the table between us. Running his hand through his hair and sighing.
“What?” he barks as he catches me watching him.
I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing what else to (not) say. I’m not about to tell him he’s stunning when he argues, with his eyes heated and his complexion flushed. Maybe if I were on the other end of that conversation I would, just to throw him off guard. But not now, not when there’s no telling how he’d respond.
Ronan closes his eyes and leans his head back against the seat rest, and I watch, fascinated, as he relaxes his muscles one by one. Beginning at his forehead and working his way down his face, neck, and torso, inch by inch visibly relaxing until the obvious tension is gone.
I look away quickly before he catches me staring again. He’s an enigma to me. One I am dying to figure out. Before I can put too much thought into that, we’re on the ground.
* * *
The air outside the plane is pleasant, clear, and sunny with a warm breeze. I was expecting Colombia to be hot and muggy and tell Ronan as much.
“Medellín is known for its temperate climate. Had we gone to Bogota or Cartagena, you would get more of what you are expecting.” He places his hand on the small of my back as he directs me toward a parked SUV with blacked-out windows nearby. A driver gets out to open the back doors for us. I feel awkward, foolish almost, allowing someone to open the door for me when I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.
Ronan, on the other hand, seems totally at ease. And what is odd to me is that it doesn’t even make him seem like a pansy. Which is what I would have thought. Instead, it makes him appear even more powerful. I mean, I give him a hard time, but he is fully in command of himself and his world. Though, maybe a little too much. The guy is wound tight for sure.
It makes me wonder what sex would be like with him. Would he let loose and go a little crazy? Would he remain in complete control? If so, like a prude or like a Dom? I like a little pain with my pleasure. Tie me up, gag me, throw on a blindfold, spank me, bite me, I’m all for it. But I’m not sure I could fully go for the lifestyle if my partner wanted it.
Not saying that Ronan wants it, or that he’ll ever be my partner. I mean, I’d like to fuck him, sure. But just a hit it and quit it. Maybe a few hits before the quit, but nothing beyond that. No relationship. Nothing long term. One, I don’t think I could handle him for long. And two, no way in hell could he handle me.
Ronan makes or takes call after call the entire way to our destination. Leaving me to watch the sights. I’ve never been outside the US other than to Tijuana, Mexico, so the idea of South America is exhilarating. Not just the idea but being in South America. I admit, when I thought about Colombia, my imagination was kind of expecting jungles with dirt roads patrolled by trucks filled with militia carrying AKs. Especially after Ronan told me Medellín is in the mountains.
Which is why I was disappointed when the SUV turned onto a regular looking freeway alongside a bunch of other regular looking cars and people, on our way to what will probably end up being a regular destination. We’re on the road for about ten minutes when the freeway ends in aTand we turn right.
The road turns rough, not quite like a dirt road, more like asphalt in dire need of repair. But as we begin to climb in altitude via switchbacks, the sides of the road look more jungle like. Large palm trees, green flowering plants, and beautiful orchids blanket the hillsides surrounding us. I roll down the window to breathe it in. The air smells green and clean.
It takes another twenty minutes of zigzagging before we get to what I think is the top, if the straight road is any indication. I try to look toward the front so I can see where we are going. Ronan has remained very tightlipped about our destination, only even telling me we were in Medellín, Colombia when we were landing. I know we’re after Andrei. I know Ronan believes he’s here. Not just in Medellín, but wherever our ultimate destination is.
One thing is for sure, this place is remote as fuck. Everywhere I look, I see green hills and lush trees so vibrant it reminds of that scene in theSound of Musicif the hills were alive with mature trees instead of music.
The SUV makes a sharp turn to the right, and I catch my breath as I see what’s in front of us.
