Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I’m on vacation, right?
“Spencer, the plane is waiting. You were supposed to wake her up, not keep her in bed for another hour.” Killian’s hard voice interrupts the sleepy, sexy thoughts running through my head.
I look over to see him standing at the door to my room. His pale skin is luminous in the morning light, starkly contrasted by his black-on-black T-shirt and cigarette pants.
“We were cold. I thought I would help her warm up before we got on the jet,” Spencer drawls. “The plane can wait, right?” Spencer goes back to kissing down my neck.
“As much as I would love to watch the lovely Julia fucking this early in the morning, we have an eleven-hour flight, and breakfast is waiting on the plane. Spencer, put your cock back in your shorts and let the lady up.” The word ‘shorts’ practically drips from Killian’s aristocratic lips.
Spencer sighs and slips himself from my grasp.
“You could join us instead,” I say with a pout.
“We don’t have time for what I want to do to you,” Killian growls. He turns and leaves the room, but not before saying, “Get dressed. The car leaves for the air strip in ten minutes.”
Spencer reluctantly follows him out the door, leaving it open. I stretch lazily on the bed.
Seven o’clock in the morning—far too early after the night I just had. I want to sleep again, then I want to wake up to more hands running along my body. And I definitely want to find out what Killian has in store for me.
“Nine minutes, Julia!” Killian exclaims, reappearing at the doorway. “Stop wasting time lounging around, or I will spank you. You don’t want to fly to Amsterdam with a sore ass now, do you? Get dressed.”
He leans against the door and stares at me.
I climb out of bed, letting him watch my naked body while I collect my clothes and start putting myself back together. I’ve just found my shoes and phone when Killian tells me time is up.
He grabs my hand and leads me to a limo parked in front of the resort. I try to object, saying I need to pack. Killian rolls his eyes at me.
“Julia, nothing you have here at this mountain retreat will be suitable for Amsterdam. I have everything you need on the plane. Just do as I say and everything will be fine.”
Then, he smiles at me.
Killian doesn’t smile much, but when he does, his sharp good looks soften with boyish charm and a pleasant glow. My breath catches a little, and I think my heart even skips half a beat.
“I wonder why you even let me get dressed.” I smile back once I regain some of my composure.
“I wonder that, too.” Killian’s smile darkens. He runs a hand up my leg as he stares into my eyes.
I’m wearing black leggings and an oversized sweater. The limo is very warm, and I feel overdressed.
We arrive at the airfield and board the plane. There are two flight attendants. Beautiful girls, both taller than me with pale skin and hair so blonde they’re nearly white.
They’re wearing black leather versions of Sixties stewardess costumes and metal chokers. Killian boards the jet first, followed by me, then Spencer. Neither girl says anything, nor do the men say a word to them as we board.
Killian leads me to a table set out with mimosas and a large plate of fruit. I sit down, and one of the girls fastens my seat belt.
Before I can thank her, she and her counterpart go to secure Killian and Spencer. Then, they both disappear with a pat on the head from Killian.
“Well-trained staff. They make themselves scarce when we are entertaining,” Killian says with a nod.
I raise an eyebrow and take a sip of my mimosa. The plane takes off.
Our fight is uneventful. After Spencer climbed in bed with me this morning, I had expected to join the mile-high club, but Killian orders me to a small bedroom at the back of the plane to sleep after breakfast. Spencer is already napping.
“I want you well-rested for what we have planned this evening. Rest up and change into something suitable. Nobody will bother you on the flight.”
I start pulling my phone out as I turn to walk to the back of the plane.
“Leave the phone, Julia,” Killian orders, not even looking up.
Something in his voice pulls me to obey. I hand him my phone...my constant companion, surrendered to him.
“Good girl,” Killian purrs, and my face flushes as I turn away from him.
I nap and watch trashy TV. At some point, one of the girls brings in a tray of food. I try to thank her, but she smiles and lowers her eyes, backing out of the room.
Eleven hours to myself—no responsibilities, no appointments, nothing. I can’t think of the last time I had eleven minutes of doing nothing, much less eleven hours.