Page 3 of Coming Home

I shake my head to try and dislodge my thoughts. What am I thinking? I can’t get involved with a man? While things are not as dangerous as they once were, the killers are still out there. Well, in Australia, at least. I have to keep my head and focus on my safety and then my life. This daydreaming will not help me accomplish anything.

Safety first. Then go back to life. I repeat to myself, wanting to ingrain it into my brain. What life entails, I still am not sure, but I have to find a way to live again. Although, it is good to know that my hormones haven’t left me during my 12 months of celibacy.

I quickly pull myself together and feel relief when we touch down. First class passengers disembark the plane first, so I rush off and make my way to the baggage claim. As I wait for my bags, I look around and notice a man holding my name on a sign. It takes me a while to realize it is for me, my new name Scarlett Foster is scribbled in black, harsh handwriting on a white card.

I greet him and he grabs my bags and instructs me to follow him. I don’t look back. I don’t look for the man, I don’t need to. My new life is about to begin, and I don't want to look back anymore, only forward. A small jolt of butterflies dance in my stomach. Can I really get a fresh start after all that has happened?

I hope so.

4

Shaun

What the fuck just happened? The feeling of her in my arms was… words just can’t describe it.

She was exquisite. She felt soft and small in my hands, she smelled like fresh flowers and new beginnings, and her hair was so silky, cascading in waves down her back. It took all my willpower not to wrap my hands in it and pull her head back so I could kiss the ever-loving fuck out of her.

I didn’t even see her face. We didn’t even talk. But the electricity was running through us both, I could feel it, and I had a primal urge to make her mine right there in the middle of the plane. I’m uncomfortably hard, and I try to readjust myself without drawing the attention of fellow passengers. Damn that flight attendant for pulling her away from me—although had I seen her face, I probably wouldn’t have let her go.

To say that she has me intrigued would be an understatement. As I walk from the plane, my phone buzzes with a message from Natalie; she is free tonight and heading over to my place. I’m not sure if it is the fatigue from the flight or the thought of the beautiful woman on the plane, but I have a serious case of blue balls, so seeing Natalie tonight better take the edge off.

Natalie was nice enough. But like every other woman I have been with, she is keen to make me happy and would do anything I ask—which is a wonderful thing but getting a bit boring. There is no challenge with women anymore. I miss the rush of the chase.

I get to the baggage carousel, and Joseph my driver already has my bags ready to go. I see the mystery woman as she glides over to her driver and luckily catch the name on the card he is holding. Scarlett Foster. A name I will not forget in a hurry. I make a mental note to have my team research her this week; I am intrigued, and I want to know more about her.

As Joseph drives me to my penthouse, I am grateful for the lack of traffic and quiet car ride. Business is good, but I am working on a particularly difficult deal at the moment with Heatherstone Enterprises.

We are looking at purchasing a large plot of land and existing businesses to develop it all together. The CEO is an old, tough bastard that hated my dad, and he certainly doesn't want to be in business with me. I’m not sure what happened between the two of them, but I can only think it was an old school rivalry. I am fine with him not liking me; I don’t really care.

From rumors I’ve heard around the city he is retiring soon, anyway. His son, Stephen, is similar in age to me and being groomed to take over, and he and I see eye to eye on most things. We bump into each other at clubs and various other places we both frequent. He is as much of a ladies’ man as I am. He has a soft spot for supermodels, and I am sure that we both know the same women. This deal is going to make both businesses a lot of money, but it is a long game. No quick and fast money with this one; however, if we can get it done, the future dividends will be extremely profitable.

We just have to get his old man across the line. It makes for a frustrating time that keeps me up at night as we fine tune the paperwork and have our advisors revise and tweak every specific detail.

I arrive at my place relieved to finally be home. My penthouse is clean, stark, and modern. No frills, contemporary with sleek glass and grey color tones. Not homely, and you definitely couldn’t say it was warm or inviting. Just the way I like it. Simple. Unrestricted. As I make my way out to the kitchen, my thoughts once again go to the beautiful blonde from the plane—Scarlett Foster. I think about her long hair and how it would feel in my hands, and imagine she has beautiful, luscious lips that I really want to suck on right now.

The sudden ring of the doorbell interrupts my daydream, not a moment too soon as I am already getting hard just thinking about Scarlett—for the second time in the matter of an hour. How the hell am I hard over a woman I haven’t even spoken to? Clearly, I am tired.

Over the intercom, Ronald the doorman announces Natalie’s arrival. While earlier it had seemed like a good idea to fuck my frustrations away, now I just need sleep. The week has caught up to me, and my mind and my body are spent. I tell Ronald to make my excuses and ask her to leave. Not my finest hour to text for a booty call then dismiss her at the lobby, but a necessary one. I don’t want her to get clingy and think this is something it isn’t.

Plenty of girls in this city try to get my attention, and I know it is just for the money and the status. They are easy on the eye and are there whenever I need a date, but there is always something lacking. My phone buzzes in my pocket, retrieving it, I see Natalie’s name on the screen. Shit. Not what I need right now. I ignore the call, letting it go to voicemail and head to bed. Sleep is the only outcome for me tonight. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.

As I lie on my bed in the dark, my body sinking into the clean, silk sheets, my thoughts go back to Scarlett. Beautiful, graceful, and in first class with a chauffeur picking her up. Who is she? Perhaps she is here visiting, maybe a holiday tourist? My mind is reeling with thoughts of who she is. Boston is a big city, so I have a zero percent chance of seeing her again, yet I have never been so captivated by a woman.

I am not sure if it is her honey blonde hair, her bronzed skin, or the way her body felt under my hands. Fuck, I just want to taste her. As I think about her, I grip myself. I am rock hard, all over a woman I haven’t even met. Scarlett is all I can think about. As my hand starts pumping, I chase my release thinking about her underneath me while I wrap her long, blonde tresses around my hand and thrust into her from behind. Before too long, I explode onto myself in a fury of passion, achieving the release I needed, found in my daydreams.

Scarlett Foster, who are you?

5

Scarlett

I step into the backseat of the car, glad to be out of the airport, and I see Stephen sitting in the seat waiting for me.

“Stephen!” I scream, both excited and startled, because I wasn’t expecting to see anyone until I got to the house.

“Scarlett!” He returns my excitement.

I lunge into his arms, both of us laughing, which soon turns into crying, which then turns into me sobbing. Yep, a 24-hour fight can do that to a person. It is so emotional. Seeing and hugging family again is very special. He holds his embrace until we are out of the airport, then we both start catching up on things. It is so good to see him. As he talks about his latest conquest, Amelia, an Italian Supermodel, I realize in this moment that moving to Boston is the right choice for me.

---