Endless Obsession (25 page)

I’m captivated by the scenery for a good ten minutes, then it starts to fade into fog. A smile breaks across my face when I realize we’re flying through the clouds, but it fades seconds later when I feel a bump, followed by several more. My hands fly back to the armrests, and I grip them tight. This has got to be the dreaded turbulence you always hear about. I look around the cabin to see Asher still watching me. He doesn’t seem to be worried about the jerks and bumps of the jet. Seraphina unbuckles her seatbelt and stands. Shouldn’t she stay in her seat? This is my first flight, so I have nothing to compare it to, but neither Asher nor Seraphina seems to be fazed by it, so it can’t be bad, right?

My death grip on the armrests get tighter as my stomach plummets to my feet. Seraphina walks in her tall heels toward us like we’re back on the ground, her gait steady. How is she not freaking out right now? And how can she walk so easily without grabbing the seats as she walks by them?

She stops next to Asher, her sugary smile in place. The look she gives him turns my stomach even more. Why in the hell do I care if she looks at him like she wants to devour him whole? It’s not like I have any say over who he sees or what he does. It’s stupid to feel this dislike toward her, especially when I have Sterling. It’s Sterling that I want.

“Can I get either of you anything?” she asks, not bothering to mask the husky tone in her voice. It grates on my nerves.

What the hell is wrong with me? Am I jealous? That would be idiotic, but at least it’s distracting me from the unsteadiness of the jet.

I’m just about to order a water, when Asher says, “Two Johnny Walkers, neat. Make one a double.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Asher turns his attention back to me, effectively dismissing Seraphina. My eyes flicker up to hers, and I catch her sneer before she walks off.

“She doesn’t like me,” I mutter, watching her retreating back.

“It doesn’t matter. This will be her last trip.” Asher’s words have me looking back at him.

“Why’s that?” I ask, tipping my head curiously.

“Because as soon as we get to Texas, I’m firing her,” he says, not an ounce of remorse in his voice.

“What? But why?”

“Because she deliberately went against my wishes. She wasn’t just informed by an employee on where you sit, I told her myself, not even five minutes before you boarded.”

It still seems kind of harsh to fire her over something so unimportant as not sitting me where he wanted me. I may not care for her, but that doesn’t mean I want her fired.

“Isn’t that a little extreme?”

“No. I’ve had problems with her before. She has a knack for flirting with clients and disregarding rules. She damn near lost me a client when his wife traveled with him on a business trip. She had him cornered in the bathroom when his wife walked up. Luckily, he was able to convince his wife that nothing happened. She was warned that if there were any more issues, she would be let go.”

My mouth opens in shock, but I’m not sure why I’m surprised. I’m normally not one to judge, but the vibe I’ve gotten off her and the looks she’s sent my way proves she’s not against using her body to get what she wants. I like that Asher can see past her fake beauty to the person she is inside. But I’m also sad that she feels like she needs to use herself like that. It will get her nowhere, and will only end up hurting her. Point in fact, she’s being fired because she broke the rules and thought she wouldn’t be reprimanded for it because of her looks.

She walks back to us carrying a small tray with two glasses on it. Leaning forward, Asher unlocks the tray in front of me so it lays flat before reaching for the glasses Seraphina holds out for him. He doesn’t even look her way, and I can see the deflated look on her face when she notices.

Instead of handing me the glass with the smaller portion, he gives me the double. I gawk at it for several seconds before trying to hand it back to him.

“I can’t drink this.”

It’s not that I can’t drink it, it’s that I don’t want to. I don’t drink often, and when I do, it’s only Moscato, or some type of fruity drink.

He doesn’t even look at the glass as I hold it out to him.

“It’ll help calm your nerves,” he replies.

He doesn’t even get the words out of his mouth before there’s a particularly rough patch of turbulence. I’m sure my eyes are as wide as saucers, and I quickly bring the glass to my lips. It burns, but it’s not as harsh as I thought it would. I guess the more expensive the whiskey, the easier it goes down. Before I know it, the glass is tipped all the way back and I’m gulping air. I frown and glance down at it.

Asher chuckles. I shrug and place the empty glass on the tray.

Without looking away from me, Asher calls, “Another double, Seraphina.”

“Asher, I don’t…” I start, but then stop when there’s another bump. I close my eyes and try to block it out. This is freaking ridiculous. I’m an adult. I should be able to take a simple plane ride, for goodness’ sake.

I open my eyes when Asher’s warm hand picks mine up and wraps my fingers around the new glass. There’s a smirk on his face, making him look even hotter. It’s really not fair that he looks so good. His hand lingers longer than necessary, and there’s a knowing look in his eyes, like he knows what he’s doing to me. I’m sure he’s used to it, though. Women must drop at his feet daily and beg for a smidgeon of his attention. Hell, even his flight attendant has starry eyes for him.

I drop my gaze from his and face forward again as I bring the drink to my lips, sipping this one much slower than the last. I lean my head back, close my eyes, and try to bring up an image of Sterling to distract myself from the man beside me, but it’s impossible. First, I have no damn clue what he looks like, so it’s literally impossible. And second, the man beside me demands all attention to be placed on him. It’s always like that when I’m in his proximity. It’s as if everything else is forgotten as soon as I’m in the same room with him.

“Poppy,” Asher urged, sounding entirely too close.

I opt to roll my head to the side to look at him instead of lifting it. The alcohol is hitting my bloodstream, and I’m too relaxed to force my head forward. He’s closer than he was before, and another wave of his scent assaults me. It’s intoxicating. I barely catch myself from leaning over and sniffing him.

I didn’t realize I had finished the second drink until he takes the glass from my hand and passes it along with the other empty glass to Seraphina.

He smiles indulgently at me as he says, “Are you okay?”

I smile back at him and nod. “Yes.”

Crap! Did I just slur?
From the mirth in his eyes, I’d say that is a big fat yes. How embarrassing is that?

My arms feel heavy against the armrest and my eyes are starting to droop. This is why I don’t like drinking heavy alcohol. It either makes me sick or extremely tired. This is supposed to be a business trip, and I’m not acting very professional right now. I try to focus my eyes on his to get a glimpse of what he’s thinking, but my vision is starting to blur. My body feels flushed, so I adjust in my seat, trying to get air in places there aren’t any.

Asher reaches up and over me. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but the closeness of his body isn’t helping the heat in mine.
God, he smells sooo good.
Did I already think that?

When I feel a rush of cool air hit me from above, I sigh.

“Thanks,” I manage to say without sounding like I’m drunk.

He sits back in his seat, slightly facing my way, and crosses one leg over his knee. The arm that’s closest to me rests on his raised leg.

“When we land, I’m going to have my driver take you to the hotel. I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner this evening.”

It takes my muddled mind a minute to realize what he’s talking about. When I remember the whole reason we’re on this jet, I try to sit up, then feel a wave of dizziness.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had that last drink,” Asher mumbles, causing my cheeks to heat even more. The cool air from above is no longer helping.

I grab the front of my blouse and fan it out in front of me, trying to cool myself down. His eyes move to my chest. I look down and realize I’m giving him little peek-a-boo shows of my boobs.

“Shit,” I mutter.

This just keeps getting worse. I swear if I’m not embarrassing myself in one way, I’m doing it in another. I should have never agreed to come on this trip.
Damn flight nerves and alcohol
. I press my hand against my blouse to flatten it back down.

When I look back at Asher, he has his elbow resting on the armrest with his with finger against his lips and they twitch, trying to hold back a laugh. I narrow my eyes at him, perturbed he’s finding this interesting.

“I’m taking a nap,” I grumble.

“You do that,” he says with a chuckle.

I roll my eyes and fumble with the little handle thingy that reclines the seat. I huff out a breath when the stupid thing doesn’t work. The next thing I know, Asher has unbuckled his seatbelt, and I now have his chest in my face as he leans over me. Before I can stop myself, I lean forward and sniff him like a dog sniffs another dog’s butt. I should really be locked up somewhere, or never be given whiskey again. I have no idea what’s wrong with me. It’s like I can’t control myself around him. I want to blame it on the alcohol, but a little voice in my head calls me out on it. It’s Asher. He drives me to act stupid, the alcohol is just the accelerant.

It’s not just me, though. Asher is acting strange as well. He’s never been so forward with touching me, or looking at me the way he is now. Well, not until recently anyway.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“You looked like you were having problems,” he answers, right before my seat reclines back.

I give a startled yelp, not expecting the movement, and he goes back to his own seat. My chest pumps up and down with my heavy breathing. I’m not sure if it’s from the surprised backward motion of my seat or Asher’s behavior.

“Go to sleep, Poppy. I’ll wake you when we get there.” His eyes are still laughing at me, but I choose to ignore it.

As I expected, the seat doesn’t go back very far. Just enough so my head won’t fall forward. I ignore the man at my side, who’s eyes I can still feel on me, and relax back against the seat.

I wake up to something warm rubbing up and down my arm. My head is nestled against something firm, but comfortable. I don’t want to move, so I snuggle my face into it. What I smell has me wanting to burrow my nose in deeper, or stuffing whatever it is up my nose so I can smell it all the time.

“Poppy,” a deep, velvety voice calls.

I reluctantly open my eyes and am met with a swirl of color and black lines. I furrow my brow, trying to figure out what I’m looking at, or remember where I am. It doesn’t take long for mortification to set in when I remember getting a little too tipsy off two glasses of whiskey and sniffing Asher like a dog in heat. And what’s worse is that during my nap, I somehow managed to end up with my head against Asher’s shoulder.

I look down to see my hand resting against his thigh, and his hand is lightly rubbing my arm. I stiffen in my seat and slowly lift my head from his shoulder. I move my arm back to my side, dislodging his hand in the process. Embarrassment isn’t a strong enough word to cover what I’m feeling right now. I decided to take a nap to try to avoid any further awkward moments, and now here I am, doing it even before I wake up. The ground, or rather the sky, just needs to open up and swallow me whole to put me out of my misery.

I force my eyes to meet Asher’s. His are soft as he watches me.

“Sorry,” I mumble, sitting upright in my seat.

“No need to apologize,” he says with a devastating smile.

Although I’m sure he shaved this morning, there’s a hint of a dark shadow that’s starting to form on his chin, cheeks, and above his lip. It looks really good on him.

“I would have let you sleep, but we just landed. I figured you wouldn’t like me carrying you to the car.”

I look over at the window and see we’re back on land.

“Oh! I didn’t even feel us land,” I say dumbly.

“You were sleeping pretty hard. Even snored a few times.”

I whip my head around at his remark, horrified. His lips are quirked up at the corners, looking amused.