Mister Weston

She suddenly returned to the bedroom and shut the door.

“What is this?” I held up the pictures before she could say anything.

“Nothing.” She blushed and walked over, trying to snatch them away from me but I moved them away and pulled her down into my lap so she was facing me.

“Next time a warning would be nice,” I said.

“You’d actually pose for pictures with me?”

“No, but I’ll be sure to take your phone away next time we spend the night somewhere.” I ran my hands against her thighs. “Why can’t you come fly with me this morning?”

“My family is coming into town for that proposal I told you about.”

“So? You hate your family.”

“Yeah, well...I need to meet them at the airport in a couple hours and come clean about everything.”

“What’s everything?”

“It’s a long story.

“Give me the Cliff’s Notes.”

She let out a breath. “They still think I have the same fancy job I had years ago and am doing something with my life. They think I still live on Lexington Avenue, and my mom and sisters are expecting to stay in that apartment, but you know.”

“You were going to tell them all that as soon as they arrived here?”

She nodded. “I made them reservations at a Hilton Hotel. They’ll have to pay for the rooms on their own, but I did try to make sure they wouldn’t have to stay here at my apartment.”

“This is not an apartment.” I rolled my eyes, deciding to hold that discussion for later. “Do you really care about seeing your brother’s proposal in person?”

“No.” She scoffed. “I know right after, him and everyone else will spend the rest of the weekend talking down to me after they find out the truth.”

“Then don’t give it to them. Tell them something came up, but you’ve moved to Park Avenue, at The Madison.” I was officially out of my goddamn mind. “We’ll meet them at the airport, say hello, goodbye, and my doorman will let them inside while we’re flying for the weekend.”

She blinked.

“What, Gillian?”

She didn’t say anything. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Where are we flying?”

“London.”

“Which airline are we flying with?” she asked.

“None. This will be a private flight.” I felt my cock stiffen in my pants. “Hurry up and get dressed before I fuck you for the rest of the morning and we never make it there.”

GATE B32

GILLIAN

New York (JFK)—> London (HTW)

HOURS LATER, I BLUSHED as Jake held me against his side after we made it through security. Both dressed in casual clothes, it felt different walking through the airport without the demands of work.

“Will you be flying the private plane alone?”

“No.” He looked down at me. “We’ll have a relief pilot aboard for midway through the flight and one flight attendant.”

“Why do we need both?”

“So you and me can make up properly over a served lunch and fuck in the clouds.”

“What?” My cheeks reddened again.

“You heard me.” He smirked, leading me toward Gate 24A, where my family’s flight from Boston was set to arrive. He kept me close as we waited in our chairs, shocking me by kissing me in public every few minutes.

It was twenty minutes past arrival time when the flight finally arrived at the gate, and as suspected, my family of first-class-only buyers were the first people off the plane.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Jake, standing up and walking over to my mother.

“Well, hello, Gillian,” she said, pulling me close for a hug. “You look lovely this morning.”

“She does?” Amy chimed in immediately. “You live in the city of fashion and you’re wearing ripped jeans and T-shirt? I guess.”

“I was being nice, Amy,” my mother said. “I’m sure when we all go out for the proposal later, Gillian won’t be dressed like this. She’ll be dressed like the rest of us. Right, Gillian?”

Brian shook his head and shot me his usual, “I’m sorry, kid” look. My father hugged me and said he was ready to get some rest, and as I started to pull the keycard for the Madison out of my pocket, Claire began her usual line of questioning.

“Did you and Ben make up yet?” She gave me a fake look of sympathy. “Or did he realize that he was the real catch and you were the one who needed him more?”

“Ha!” Amy laughed. “You’re late. Ben has moved on already—I saw a picture of him on Facebook with, shocking! Someone who looks like she’s actually doing something with her life. She’s an author, I think.”

“Oh, how very wonderful,” my mother said. “Now, that’s impressive. Maybe you can call Ben and ask to be introduced to her, Gillian. Since you edit, maybe you can ask to edit her upcoming books? Maybe she can get you in the doors of a publishing house?”

I gritted my teeth, ready to finally tell them “Fuck off” for good, but I suddenly felt Jake slipping his arm around my waist—suddenly heard him whispering, “Don’t.”