The Entitled (The Entitled Duet #1) - Cassandra Robbins Page 0,106
today, I allow myself to feel something even if it’s a simple longing for a game. Sadness that my hero is gone. But not regret. He wouldn’t allow it, nor will I.
“Good morning.” The flight attendant smiles. She’s petite and pretty in a nerdy girl way. Black-rimmed glasses sit on her face and small purple lips smile at me.
“Mr. Saddington, can I get you something to drink?” Her tight white silk shirt is ironed and tucked into a black pencil skirt. Dishwater-blond hair is twisted up in a bun.
“Yes, coffee black, please.”
“Of course.” She turns and I watch the blatant swing of her ass.
“How much longer until we land?” I say, stopping her before she goes into the kitchen area.
“About two more hours. I hope you brought a jacket. It’s supposed to be raining.” She smiles, causing me to notice a gap between her front teeth. I nod.
Rain. That’s something I’m used to. As I glance out the window, the morning sun peeks through. The moment I land, I need to make sure Michael, my second in command in London, is apprised of the situation. Somehow this trip seems final.
“Sir, your coffee.” The woman sets it on the table along with some pineapple and mango.
“I’m sorry for your loss. If you need anything at all, I’m here for you.” She looks down at my cock, her hand casually brushing my leg. Her attempt to be professional when sending me signals to fuck her is rather humorous.
Unfortunately, I can still smell Victoria’s flowery perfume on me. Poor Victoria. Her disappointed face and desperate need to please make her somewhat pathetic. She should count herself lucky if she never sees me again. I hope I was clear that we are over. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, but I can barely remember.
I smile at the woman. “Thanks. I won’t be needing anything but breakfast.” She looks disappointed.
“And would you like that now?”
I arch an eyebrow at her. Any other time, her aggressive nature would spark at least enough interest to bend her over the table and take her from behind.
Taking a sip of the dark coffee, I swivel the chair around facing her.
“Do you have any hot dogs?” Her look of shock almost rivals mine. The recurring dream I’ve been having lately hits me in the gut. Shit, that’s what woke me up. I was dreaming about eating hot dogs in the rain…
Bringing the coffee to my mouth, I drink deeply, allowing the hot, bitter liquid to slide down my throat. It gives me a moment to compose my thoughts. My hands start to sweat. Since moving to London, I’ve been having this dream. It started one night after I worked for hours. I was tired and cold when I got back to my flat and fell into a restless sleep. I woke in terror, my screams echoing off my empty walls. It soon became recurrent. Sometimes they are good. Most of the time I wake up with my heart racing, my fingers clutched around my scarred-up chest, her scent embedded in my brain. She’s always laughing, kissing me. Then she’s gone, and I can’t find her. I search and search. Usually my brain makes me wake up there. Other times the nightmare goes on until I collapse at different places, crawling in the rain looking for her, the taste of her lips burned into my memory.
I have trained my mind not to think about her. But she haunts me in my dreams and elsewhere.
“Sir?” The flight attendant clears her voice. My eyes snap over to hers.
“We do. In the freezer. Would you like me to heat one up?” Blinking at her, I stand and try to calm my racing heart.
“Yes. Give me twenty minutes. I’m going to take a shower first. I don’t suppose you have chili?”
She cocks her head confused. “No, we have eggs benedict and asparagus with multigrain toast.”
“Hmm. Yes, that’s one of my favorites. Bring me two hot dogs with mustard and ketchup.” I walk away with my cup of coffee.
“My name is Willow,” she calls after me and I turn briefly, “in case you change your mind and need me.” She licks her lips.
I don’t bother responding and keep moving toward the shower. My earlier rejection should have been enough. Shutting the door, I peel off my suit jacket, the need to remove all traces of Victoria and London suddenly strong. My hands move frantically as they jerk off my clothes. I’m not quite certain what I