Juice: (An Alpha Male Billionaire Romance - Part 3) (Juice: The Series) (2 page)

Chapter Five

“Here I am right on time!” I beam, standing on the sidewalk,
out of breath after my sprint from the subway.

“You’re always on time,” Everett notes.

Only when it counts.

“I said to pack light,” he says while hoisting my
overstuffed suitcase over his shoulder.

“This
is
light for me!”

“Fair enough,” he says and starts back into the lobby.

“Where are we going? Should I grab an Uber or are we taking
the subway? The roads are really backed up.”

He only smiles and puts his free arm around me. “Roads?
Where we’re going, we don’t need roads,” he says, perfectly quoting my favorite
movie.

“You mean we’re flying a DeLorean to the airport?” I
deadpan.

“Close! But you’re way off. Just wait.”

Off the elevator at the 88th floor, we walk through a few
hallways then up a staircase. Everett pushes open the door revealing a
helicopter idling on the roof. “Watch your head!” he screams over the whir of
the spinning blades.

We strap in and lift off. The island of Manhattan stretches
out in all directions as we fly low over the New York skyline and the Hudson.

“The view from my apartment is just as good,” he yells over
the noise.

“You’re amazing!” I say. He really is.

We land on the runway, just paces from the jet.

“Let’s go!” We jump out and scamper up the steps into the
jet. My heel slips, and I stumble as I’m entering. Oh god, not again. The
pilot, in his crisp white shirt and captain’s hat catches me.

“Welcome aboard!” he says, helping me to my feet. I collect
myself and freeze, seeing all eyes from the plane’s passengers are on me.
Several serious-faced Asian businessmen in suits look up from their preflight
business to inspect the klutz at the front of the plane.

Everett steps in front and takes my hand. “Everyone, this is
Bronwyn,” he announces to the plane. The group smiles and nods as we take a
seat in the large, partitioned rear of the jet. I notice a few of the men have
dates aboard the plane, dressed to the nines and sipping from champagne flutes.

“Remember I share this jet. They’re the businessmen from
Singapore I sold the blogging company.”

“Yes, I remember,” I say and take his arm. “I remember
everything you say,” Everett.

He continues. “It’s hangared in Singapore and the crew is based
there.”

“Why Singapore?”

“The talent. As I built my company, I looked for the best
talent for the best price. I found most domestic programmers were looking for a
six figure income and would leave in a few months for another company. More and
more good coders came to me from this city and eventually I moved there myself.
I thought I was the only American with this crazy idea, but through connections
I met several ex-pat entrepreneurs in Southeast Asia. Then after three years of
living there these gentlemen made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

* * *

We’re cruising over the ocean and luxuriating in the cabin’s
soft leather, dark wood, and yards of space to stretch our legs. A pretty and
diminutive stewardess in a short dark blue outfit serves us champagne raspberry
cocktails.

She leans in, “Is there anything else I can offer you two?”
she says, resting her hand on my leg.

“A blanket would be wonderful,” I ask and she scampers off.

“It’s a bit cold, isn’t it?” I ask.

“I’m always warm,” he says.

The cute girl returns and drapes a blanket over us. I
snuggle against him and squeeze his well-muscled arm. He is always warm.
“You’re my generator,” I say and nuzzle his shoulder.

Afforded some privacy, I playfully nibble him, and he
squeezes my leg under the blanket. He leans in and presses his lips against
mine and gives me a soft, sensual kiss. For such a strong and masculine type,
his lips are so silky and kissable. Our tongues roll over each other and the
kiss becomes more passionate.

“I love kissing you,” he says.

His hands are roaming now, rubbing my sides and along my
inner thighs. I purposely wore a skirt for him.

I feel my heartbeat in my breath and my skin is flushing.

Can anyone see us?
Our seating is partitioned from
the front of the plane and facing the rear. I poke my head above the divider
and see everyone going about their business. The cabin’s lights are dimmed and
I can barely see faces. I’m about to turn back when I catch the eye of the cute
stewardess at the front of the plane with a small smile. Her round face is
framed perfectly by her long black hair cut into hard bangs. Her smoky eyes
turn her look of cuteness into a prowler.

She’s seated and has her short dress pulled up slightly. Her
eyes lock with mine, and I notice she’s gently rubbing her legs up and down. I
quickly turn back to Everett.

“I think the flight attendant is flirting with me,” I guess,
smiling.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, pulling me towards him again and
kissing my neck. He nibbles along my collarbone and neck, sending shivers down
my body.

“That feels amazing,” I whisper.

His strong hands begin to push under my skirt.

“We can’t!” I whisper-scream and giggle.

He pauses to crane his neck around and seems to catch the
same girl staring at us, too.

“Sure, we can, Bronwyn. I own this plane,” he says.

His fingers begin to circle around my entrance over my
panties which we can both feel are warm and wet. I want him so badly and feel
my butt tense and reflexively push against his hand. I squeeze my breasts and
find my nipples are hard and extra sensitive.

He kisses me more and nibbles my lips. He’s an excellent
kisser. His fingers continue to move under the blanket, now under my panties.
My clit is throbbing as he inserts a finger inside my wetness. I forgot how
strong his hands are. I’m so turned on it slides in easily.

“Oh, Everett,” I whisper. “I want all of you.”

He rubs me faster and faster as I begin to stroke him over
his pants. He’s already fully aroused. My body is simmering, and I feel my
stomach tense.

“Keep going, keep going…” I say and feel his cock pulsing.

He’s circling my clit over and over. I pull my panties to
the side and let him have better access. I close my eyes a moment and focus on the
sensation. My whole body is humming and feel myself coming to the brink. My
breath is short and tight.

I open my eyes slightly, and I’m surprised by the flight
attendant. She quietly took a seat across from us, also with a blanket. Her
hands are moving underneath.

I feel Everett watching me watch her.

“Come for me,” he says. “Let her see.”

I smile back at her and close my eyes again. I give in. I’ve
held my orgasm for too long, and I don’t care if who knows. I throw back my
head and scream in my hand as I come. Waves upon waves of pleasure hit my body
and my hips buck against his hand. I look back at the attendant and her eyes
are closed as she continues by herself.

I tingle top to bottom and look out through the private
plane’s large circle windows. The Atlantic is now dark and there is crescent
moon hanging low near the water.

Without saying a word, Everett grabs my hand and pulls me
toward the rear of the plane. The girl smiles at us shyly and bites her lip.

We’re barely able to fit in the lavatory. I put the seat
down and sit. He lowers his pants and his massive cock nearly slaps me in the
face.

“Why hello! So nice to see you…” I put a firm grip around
his base and run my tongue all around the tip. I’m so ready to have him inside
me, I don’t spend much time with foreplay. A few quick and hard sucks and he’s
pulling me up and bending me over. He kneels to pull my panties to the floor
and gives my pussy a few licks from behind.

“Give it to me Everett. I need you inside me.”

He wraps up with a condom, and rubs his cock against my
pussy. He loves teasing. It feels amazing, but I need more.

“Just give it to me.” I say.

“Beg for it,” he commands.

“Please,” I beg.

“Louder,” she says and slaps my butt hard.

“Give it to me please!” I shout.

I’m standing, bent over and leaning on the lid and watching
his beautiful rock hard shaft slide into my body.

“Yes….” I moan.

Everett slowly increases his pace and is hitting all the
right spots. He leans over me and squeezes my breasts.

He whispers in my ear, “You’re mine. All mine.” And
continues fucking me hard. His hands are at my hips, pulling my body toward his
with every thrust. I’m at his mercy. He can fuck me all night long if he wants.
I am his and all his. He finishes soon after and we drag ourselves back to our
seats. The stewardess is lying down on the seat covered and passed out. We all
will get a good night’s rest.

Chapter Six

The jolt of tires hitting tarmac jars me awake from a
recurring nightmare of giving a presentation at Dunbar I’m utterly unprepared
for. I’m also completely naked. The sweet reality of warmth and luxury comforts
me as I check my cheek for drool. Everett is doing lunges up and down the main
aisle as we taxi down the small runway.

“Good morning, Ms. Cole,” he says as he settles into a deep
knee bend.

“Good morning, Everett. Don’t tell me there’s another
helicopter ride. I’m growing quite bored of them,” I say with a hint of
sarcasm.

“Hush. No more rotors until we’re back in New York. We’ll
stick to four wheeled transport for now.” The plane has come to a halt and a
cherry red and black sports car which can only belong to Everett is ready to go
alongside the jet.

“Is that the four wheels you speak of?”

“Correct. My custom McLaren P1. Only a prick American such
as myself could get away with driving a British super car in Italy. Hop in!”

* * *

It’s a clear, warm degree day without a cloud to be found in
the Mediterranean sky. I’d be in heaven, enjoying the drive and view of
Lago
di Como
on my right, but I’m scared for my life. My feet are reflexively
digging into the carpet and my hand is tired from gripping the door.

“Don’t you just love the tight suspension? I hardly even
need the brakes on these turns!” Everett says, celebrating the fast life.

“I love it!” I scream through clenched teeth as we brake
hard into another turn and accelerate away. The forces push us both to the
right, then back left with the seats and harnesses holding us in.

“I’m going to get sick all over the floormats if we keep
this up much longer,” I warn with a laugh, but I’m not joking.

“We’ve arrived,” he says, downshifting and turning onto the
pea gravel driveway leading to a lakefront villa.

* * *

Mini waves push us up and down as my float aimlessly. I feel
a damp hand reach over and take mine. Half-awake I hold a finger.

“Isn’t this the life?” Everett asks to me, not expecting an
answer. We’ve been floating in the villa’s pool for over an hour looking into a
cloudless sky.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” I say, looking over at
the lake just a stone’s throw away.

“When you said ‘Milan’ I imagined models, museums, and four
hour meals,” I say.

“The food will be here soon,” Everett says and I laugh.

“I like the city, but this is my version of a beach house.”
I never work here, only relax.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you pick me?” I say, not looking over. “Of all the
women you meet, why am I here? It’s been a whirlwind when I’m with you, and I’m
just worried this could easily disappear.”

I count a pause of three seconds.

“I know more about you than you know,” he says. “Like I said
I’m a fan of your company. To be honest, I’ve been following
Namaste
for
months. I’ve read every one of your blog posts. Yours is a good story, and I’ve
become invested in you. To start your own company with no funding or
connections is very brave. Some would say, naïve, but I’ve always more
appreciated the ones who can bootstrap. I know about your father. I’ve read
about your mother in St. Louis and your relationship with your sister.”

He pulls closer.

“I’ve always had a love of storytelling, and it’s why I
started the blogging company. It became a large business, but it started as way
to allow people to share their stories, no matter where they lived or what
struggles they had.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “But I don’t know much
about you, and I want to know more. Everything.”

My eyes follow a plane drawing a long thin contrail across
the sky as I hold his hand.

“Well,” he starts, “I’m an only child. My family raised me
in a strict but loving house in Connecticut. My dad took the train into the
city every day, about an hour and a half each way, but he loved the quieter
life.”

“That sounds great,” I say and smile at him.

“It was, but….” he pauses, “They died. It’s not something I
like to talk about.”

After a moment he continues, “I was at a friend’s sleepover
when I was ten. The investigators told me it was caused by a faulty extension
cord in the basement. They didn’t even have to tell me. I knew it was the one I
used to sneak and watch TV. I’ve never forgiven myself for it.”

I hold his hand tighter.

“After they were gone, my uncle took custody of me. He gave
me a home, but I always felt I was a burden. I don’t think he ever wanted to have
kids, and he left me home alone often. All of middle school and most of high
school I was caught in a deep depression. Food tasted bland. I couldn’t laugh
without crying. I was put on anti-depressants, but they did nothing but make me
more numb.”

“I only had one friend, Eric. Around the age of 14, he began
going to the gym and working out. For months I refused to join him. But one day
he basically dragged me out of my uncle’s basement and we began lifting. Once a
week became three times a week. Then every day. Little by little I began to see
value in myself again, and forgive myself.”

“Is that what the tattoo means?” I ask.

“Yes. Though I can move on in my life, I want to remember my
parents every day. Every time I look in a mirror, this tattoo reminds me of
them rising from the fire.”

“Thank you for listening. I’ve wanted to be more open with
you, since I feel like I know everything about you already from reading behind
my computer.”

“Well, not everything,” I say and squeeze his hand. “But
thank you for opening up to me. I know how hard it can be to lose a parent.”

We float for hours. After a long stretch of silence he says,
“I want to invest. I meant everything I said the first time we met.”

“Good, I think we’re really close to a big breakthrough in
the health foods market. I know Piper is really excited, too.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m not sure she fits with the plan,” he says.