The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

“Yes,” she shrieks. “Oh my God, I’m so excited. I’m Ellie. What do you do?”

“Um.” I shrug, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “I’m Claire. I work for a company.”

“I’m running my own empire,” Ellie says as she widens her eyes in excitement.

“Empire,” I repeat, amused. “In what?” I ask.

“I’m an influencer.”

I stare at her as my brain tries to keep up. Oh God no . . . one of those twits who gets paid for posting fake crap. “Really? Great.”

“I travel the world and model bikinis.” She smiles. “If I post an image of myself, the world goes into meltdown.”

I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. Is she for real? “I . . . bet they do.”

The dark-haired girl in front of her turns toward us and laughs. “Snap, girlfriend.”

“Oh my God . . . you too?” Ellie gasps.

They both burst into laughter. “I’m Angel,” the dark-haired girl introduces herself. “I’m going to be an influencer too.”

“You haven’t started yet?” Ellie asks in a condescending tone.

“Well.” Angel shrugs. “Not technically. I still have a few movies left on my contract, but as soon as I finish those, I’m totally into it—all systems go.”

“Movies?” Ellie gasps. “What kind of movies?”

“I’m a porn actress. You may have seen my latest, Anal Mistress with Johnny Rocket Cock.”

Ellie’s eyes widen, “Oh. My. God.” She gasps. “I totally recognize you.” They begin to laugh and bounce on the spot in excitement.

Oh hell.

I wonder what Johnny Rocket Cock does to her ass.

Or what anyone does to anyone’s ass, actually. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched that I’ve completely forgotten everything, and even when I was, it was never hard-and-fast porn-style sex. It was loving and tender. The kind of sex that married people have.

Safe and real, a world away from being an anal mistress.

What the actual fuck has Marley gotten me into here?

I turn toward the man behind me. Has he heard any of this?

“Hi.” He smiles.

“Hello.”

He’s blond and normal looking. He seems nice. “Are you here for the conference?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Me too.” He holds out his hand to shake mine. “I’m Nelson Barrett.”

“I’m Claire Anderson.” I smile.

“I’m a computer scientist.” He looks around at our surroundings. “I’m so out of my comfort zone here it’s not even funny.”

“Me too.” Relief fills me. Someone normal. “I work in media.”